SERAPHINA
The ancient grove pulsed with its own heartbeat. I could feel it through my feet, an unsettling rhythm that made my skin crawl. The Dark Priestess stood before me, her form shifting like smoke against the purple glow of those unnatural flowers.
"So," she said, her voice echoing from everywhere and nowhere. "The little wolf returns to my domain."
I squared my shoulders, trying to ignore the trembling in my hands. "I need your power again."
"Indeed." She circled me slowly, her tattered robes barely disturbing the dirt beneath her feet. "The forest remembers you, Seraphina Sinclair. It remembers what you asked for last time."
The amber lights within her hood seemed to brighten with amusement. I forced myself not to step back when she leaned close, the scent of decay and something older, something wrong, wafting from her.
"Did your first spell not satisfy you?" she asked. "The West girl forgot everything you wanted her to forget. Roman suffered, as you wished."
