“We’ll make sure he’s locked away in the High Crown Pack’s silver prison, Luna Barbara,” one of the pack leaders muttered to me.
I nodded in agreement. “By the Moon Goddess and the angels, that’s for the best, sir.”
“Well, of course. Our work here is done, gentlemen. Let’s enjoy the feast before us.” Timothee strode towards the dining table, attempting to savor the remaining food.
“But it’s poisoned, Lycan,” Dave warned, his voice laced with concern.
“Have you forgotten something, pup?” Timothee chuckled, raising a piece of muffin to his lips.
A chuckle escaped my lips as I conjured a spell, infusing the food with an irresistible flavor, transforming it into a culinary masterpiece. Just moments ago, I had sworn off ever setting foot in this mansion, a monument to betrayal and deceit.
