The witches' sacred hall, once a place of serene power and silent wisdom, now throbbed with unrest.
The massive doors burst open, slamming against the walls as Elira stormed in, her once-pristine robe torn, her face etched with fury—and shame.
Gasps echoed through the room.
She was bleeding.
Elira—the feared High Priestess. The witch who had stood unshaken for a century—had been wounded. Defeated.
Sabrina stood from her elevated seat, her golden eyes narrowing. "What happened?"
Elira didn't speak. Her breathing was ragged, magic flickering off her skin like unstable lightning.
Another witch stepped forward, one of the inner circle. "She failed. Against Callista."
"Silence!" Elira snapped, her voice breaking the torches' flames for a moment.
But the room had already shifted.
A murmur began. Low. Disbelieving.
"How could she—?"
"Callista's power..."
"She's stronger than we thought…"
Elira turned on them with a hiss, "She is not stronger! She is confused! Tainted by the wolves!"
Sabrina raised her hand. The hall fell silent again.
"Elira," Sabrina said calmly, "you underestimated her."
"She has the mate bond," Elira hissed. "She awakened the wolf fully. Her power is unstable. She used both witch and wolf energy—reckless, chaotic magic. If we wait too long, she'll become unstoppable."
"Then we don't wait," Sabrina said. "We adapt."
One of the younger witches stepped forward boldly. "Adapt how? Are we now bowing to a half-blood?"
A dangerous silence followed.
"No," Sabrina said coldly. "But we're not killing her either. Not yet. She is still one of us by blood—and we will use that."
Elira's eyes narrowed. "You want to manipulate her."
"I want to bring her home," Sabrina replied, though there was a glint of something darker in her smile. "One way or another."
A second witch entered the chamber hurriedly, bowing low. "High Priestess… Sabrina… we've received word. The werewolves have begun to gather allies. Packs from the South are moving toward the Blue Moon territory."
"And Callista is the reason," Elira growled.
Sabrina looked thoughtful for a moment. Then she turned to the coven. "We cannot let the wolves become stronger. If Callista chooses them fully, we lose the balance. The prophecy crumbles—and with it, our power."
She raised her voice, echoing through the sacred hall.
"Prepare the enchantment circle. In seven days, we strike again. But this time, we do not aim to capture or kill…"
She looked directly at Elira.
"We aim to break her."