The Witch's Game

Isolde's POV

The moon hung heavy outside my window as I arranged my tools. Five black candles made a star on the floor. In the middle lay three precious items: a strand of fiery red hair, a scrap of bloodstained cloth, and a small vial of ash. All taken from Sienna during the last attack.

"Little wolf, you can't hide from me," I whispered, striking a match.

As the candles flickered to life, I closed my eyes and let power flow through my fingers. Magic wasn't just something I did—it was who I was. The Black Moon Witch. Once guardian of the Ruby Wolves, now their best hunter.

I sprinkled dried herbs over the things and began to chant in a language older than time. The candles' flames stretched toward the sky, turning blood red. On the wall, shadows danced like dogs running through a forest.

"Show me the bloodline. Show me the Ruby Wolves."