Brock's perspective:
I had been attending to the women we had rescued from Yadiel's grasp, many of whom were terrified and struggling to believe in their freedom.
Morgana reeked of death, a scent Stephanie revealed was emanating from Marcella's body, now her unwilling host. But why? Why had she abandoned Yadiel's form? These thoughts raced through my mind just as my mate, my Luna, pierced the silence with a desperate mind-link. The urgency was clear—I had to reach Morgana quickly.
I bolted from my chair, my heart throbbing against my ribcage like an imprisoned bird desperate for escape. The image of Morgana—a spectral witch whose legend wound through our pack's history like a dark, unending thread—imprisoned in Marcella, my best tracker, set my pulse racing with dread.
It was imperati
