The Midnight Queen's POV
The moon hung like a silver eye in the night sky, watching as I placed twelve crystal vials in a perfect circle. Each held the fresh blood of a werewolf—Alpha blood, Beta blood, Omega blood. Power in every drop.
But not Ruby Wolf blood. Not yet.
"Is everything prepared?" I asked, not turning to look at the masked figures standing quietly behind me.
"Yes, my Queen," Isolde, my Black Moon Witch, answered. "The stars are aligned. The boundary between places thins."
I smiled, feeling the weight of ages in the curve of my lips. How long had I waited for this moment? How many failures and false starts?