The library became a war room.
Ancient texts covered every surface—scrolls from Marcus's personal collection, journals from long-dead vampires, fragments of wolf histories that mentioned hybrids in hushed, fearful tones. Caspian oversaw the research, his centuries of knowledge guiding us through the chaos. Kael organized the searchers, sending wolves and love seekers to track down every lead.
And me? I sat in the middle of it all, trying to hold thirty hybrids together while we raced against time.
"Theo's line goes back to Eastern Europe," Aria reported, dropping another stack of papers on the already overflowing table. "His mother's family were nomads, no written records. But oral tradition says they served someone—a powerful being, a woman they called the Moon Witch."
"Moon Witch?" I
