Camille's POV
I remembered when Rowan was three. Because of a genetic defect from his premature birth, he collapsed during his first attempt to awaken his wolf spirit. His vitals were fading fast.
The witch doctors told Lucian and me to prepare for the worst.
I was the one who ran to the altar in the f*******n zone. I knelt in the pouring rain for a day and a night, slicing my palm open with a dagger and dripping my blood onto the Moonstone to earn that wolf tooth.
The moment I hung it around Rowan's neck, his fever broke. His wolf spirit miraculously stabilized.
Back then, Rowan would cling to my neck and say in his tiny voice.
"Mommy used her blood to get this treasure for me. I'll wear it forever. It's the armor Mommy gave me."
And now, he had handed that "armor" over to the woma
