THE VISION of the ancient pleasure witch, her own face twisted into a mask of seductive power and chilling control, slammed into Selene with the force of a physical blow. She reeled back from the altar, gasping, the phantom scent of heady perfumes and enthralled wolf-lust clinging to her senses. Waldemar's arms, strong and immediate, caught her as she stumbled, his grip tight and grounding. His golden eyes, filled with concern, searched hers, radiating a desperate need to understand what had so profoundly shaken her.
"Selene! What did you see? What happened?" Waldemar’s voice was rough with urgency, his fear a sharp, distinct pang through the Moonbind. His touch, usually a source of contention, was now a lifeline in the swirling chaos of her mind.
But Selene couldn't articulate the horro
