Enzos pov
The witch hesitated, magic simmering at her fingertips like a snake coiled to strike. Then, as if deciding against some silent conversation within herself, she relaxed her stance, her eyes softening with a hint of pity.
“She journeys through the Breath of Elders,” she confessed quietly, her attention shifting to the horizon. “A place no mortal or werewolf dare enter without consequence. It’s not a path one takes lightly.”
My heart plummeted. The Breath of Elders was a place of legends—a place where worlds converged and the very essence of souls was tested. It was a place where magic twisted into something both beautiful and treacherous.
“Why would she go there?” I asked, my voice demanding urgency over my disbelief.
“For a goddess-forsaken love,” the witch replied, a note o
