Brock’s Perspective:
Janice was dragged to the center of the captives, and my heart twisted in agony. The woman, once my best friend, now stood before me as an adversary—entwined with hunters, complicit in their pursuits. A burning curiosity ignited within me. I decided that upon our return to the packhouse, one of my female captains would pry the secrets from her.
"But why, Janice?" The words tumbled out of me; an anguished whisper lost among the growling whispers wafting through the assembly of my kind.
Janice—her hair once a brilliant amber, now dulled and matted with betrayal—turned her gaze to mine, a flicker of something like sorrow passing through her steel-blue eyes before they hardened into icy resolve.
The seeds of betrayal she sowed had long ago eroded her sanity—our bond was reduced to ashes. Now, she stands not as my comrade but as my enemy, and she, along with the hunters who stand with her, will taste the bitte
Brock's Perspective: Sapphire's endurance had always seemed impenetrable until now. Crumpled on the sofa in my office, she was a storm of despair, her head buried in her hands as she surrendered to her grief. It was all too clear that the burdens of the world, which she'd been shouldering in solitude, had finally crushed her spirit. Torn between indignation and sympathy, I grappled with the enormity of her secret. The thought of her being forced into such a harrowing predicament—it was unthinkable. To have taken her own mother's life, all in the defense of Shifter kind—and possibly humanity itself—was a sacrifice that defied any simple response of mine. I could sense the turmoil within Stephanie, the mate bond churning with conflict. Despite it all, she crumbled, sinking down beside Sapphire to offer comfort in her time of need. Stephanie's Perspective: The revelation thundered in my chest, its sheer magnitude a weight on every breath I drew.
Brock's Perspective:I had intended for the meeting to take place tonight, but frustratingly, I couldn't reach Sapphire, prompting me to postpone it to the next evening. As summer's end neared, so did Stephanie's impending return to school. Simultaneously, we faced our imminent move into my apartment in the corporate office complex. What she didn't know was my plan to name her head of Technical Security for all of my worldwide companies. There was more to the surprise, and I was bursting with anticipation at her reaction when she discovered I was also her professor.I've grown increasingly worried about Stephanie's morning sickness. It's unusual for wolves to get sick, which is why this is particularly alarming. Could it be that, in addition to meddling with Stephanie’s memory, Sapphire's mother had induced an illness in her? After watching Stephanie suffer over the toilet for thirty minutes this morning, we decided it was time to see the pack docto
Brocks Perspective: With Vincent's message heavy on my mind, I retreated to my office, intent on reaching out to Sapphire again. Upon entering, I gently settled Stephanie onto the couch, noticing her quietly exhaling in relief. But moments later, she sprang to her feet. My voice took on an edge. "Stephanie, where do you think you're going?" I demanded. Stephanie faced me, unflinching. "Brock, no offense, but I'm escaping your smothering watch. I'm off to the office you had set up for me—I need sanctuary, and I need it now!" With a brisk wave, she darted through the door. I attempted one last time to contact Sapphire through the communication stone. Her form flickered sporadically, materializing and dematerializing in the room, before she collapsed onto the floor in agonizing pain. "Sapphire, what's wrong? How can I help?" Sapphire could only manage a weak shake of her head, unable to speak. In a rush, I initiated a mind-link with Dr. M
Sapphire's memories of her mother: I am piecing together the events that led to my mother's demise at my very own hands, as I attempt to shift for the first time. Linda's voice coaxes me, advising me to think of something else, anything to distract me from the pain of transforming into a werewolf. I am not certain why Selene is gifting me a wolf, but I need to remind myself to discuss this with her. I worry about Crystal, who is with Morgana. Morgana is actually Selena, our mother, and until my birth, she was the most powerful witch to have ever lived. Fables differ on the source of her immense powers: some say she was born imbued with darkness, while others believe that darkness consumed her after the death of her best friend and then her true mate. Rumors whisper that Morgana, betrayed by a lover, succumbed to darkness, which then planted the darkness in Selena’s heart. The truth, however, is shrouded by time, known only to the gods, who understand
Stephanie’s Perspective:As I grasped the truth in Brock's words, my jaw fell open in disbelief—it was unlike him to jest. Brock, always seemingly mature beyond his years, paralleled the serious nature others often attributed to me. Yet, unlike him, I had submitted to youthful antics, nudged into mischief by my best friend Linda's playful spirit. A soft giggle escaped me as I indulged in those fond memories.Leaping from my chair, I sprang away from my desk when Brock advanced toward me with clear intentions of picking me up, which I vehemently rejected. A swift kick to his shin gave me my chance to escape. I dashed for the elevator, desperately jabbing at the call button until impatience took over. Concluding it would be too slow, I charged toward the stairwell and tore down the flights of stairs to the level of Brock's office, my feet barely keeping pace with my urgency.Brock's sinister laughter chased me down the hallway, his taunting voice slici
Brock's Perspective:Since Sapphire had arrived, I instructed Rylan to summon all our allies for an urgent meeting tonight. Our priority was to devise a plan to rescue Crystal from the void. However, we had to keep it secret from Agatha; if she discovered that the true witch in the void was her mother, not Morgana, she might align with her mother and unleash chaos. While this could potentially free Crystal, it would likely spell disaster for the rest of the world. Rylan's voice hummed through the phone, low and urgent. "It's done. They'll be at your place by sunset."I tucked the phone into my jeans pocket, pacing the floorboards of my sparsely furnished living room. I could sense Sapphire's eyes on me, her presence grounded with a strength unlike any other. She leaned against the door frame, her arms folded, a silent sentinel."We'll need a plan, Brock," she said.I ran a hand through my hair, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. "Yeah, we're
A gust of cool night air brushed into the room, bringing with it a figure shrouded in a dark hood. The newcomer stepped into the warm glow of the overhead lights, lowering the hood to reveal a familiar face marred with scars and eyes that had seen centuries.It was Marcellus, the ancient, nomadic oracle type of werewolf, a pariah among our kind known for his wisdom and his voluntary exile. His arrival was as much a surprise as it could be a boon—or a bane."Marcellus," I greeted cautiously. "What brings you here?"He met my gaze with a steady one of his own. "I heard the whispers of the wind, the murmurs of the earth —they speak of a balance disturbed, a peril that threatens to unravel the seams between realms," Marcellus said, his deep voice resonating with an urgency that seemed to echo the rustling leaves outside. "I come to aid, though my path is mine alone.""You know of our dilemma?" Sapphire inquired, her guarded stance easing slightly.
There was an unsettling edge to the preparations. We loaded up with silver, iron, and various talismans that had been offered as tokens to anchor us to this world. Everyone wore their determination like a second skin, but underneath, the weight of the unknown pressed heavily against our chests. We each understood the volatile nature of the void: a dimension of twisting realities that could easily ensnare the unwary.The night moved on, and it was almost time to leave. We went to our rooms to get ready for the journey. I knelt at my small altar, where moonstone and obsidian patterns promised protection and strength. My quiet prayers mingled with the magical air, brightening the talismans on the stone.Sleep was out of reach, as thoughts of our mission troubled us. We memorized our plan with great care.At dawn, we regrouped in the common room. The early light revealed the serious expressions of my companions.Vincent spoke first, packing the last items for