The ancient halls of the council chamber still carried the heavy scent of herbs and magic from the last meeting. No one had suspected a thing. The witches had been careful—subtle. The spell had already begun to take effect.
A silent storm was brewing, one that even the most powerful Alphas could not sense yet.
The Viona witches had worked in secret, ensuring every unmated Alpha who attended the council meeting had been spiked. A mixture of moon-activated herbs and a powerful tracking spell had been infused into the ceremonial wine served that night.
The purpose? Force every Alpha to mark their fated mate on the first full moon.
For centuries, finding a single human among billions had been an impossible task. But if a human bore an Alpha’s mark—if a human carried their blood—they could
