Moira
The witch covens spread through the forest in perfect formation, each practitioner taking their designated position in the ancient protective pattern. Moira Shadowmere felt the familiar resonance as three hundred witches linked their consciousness across miles of woodland, their combined will focusing on a single purpose: shield the innocent from those who would destroy them for being different.
“Circle complete,” came Lydia’s voice through the magical communication network. “All covens in position.”
Moira raised her hands skyward, feeling the power of centuries-old magic flowing through her bloodline. Around her, the other Speakers began the incantation that would hide the pack compound from every form of detection the human military possessed.
“*Ancient protectors, shield the b
