Lance Stormhold stared at the dilapidated building in the middle of the human holdings. Even without following Emira's scent here, he would have known this was no ordinary human dwelling. The air itself was thick with powerful and strong, dark magic that hummed through the walls.
Witches living among humans was nothing new. After The War, some had fled the packs and hidden among humans, giving up their magic to survive. Over time, their descendants retained only traces of power, faint sparks that barely counted as magic. But this place… this was different. This was black magic.
He thought back to the talk about the Ruins with the Great Witch and the powerful dark energy there. History claimed that witches who practised black magic had all perished long ago, but history wasn't always right. There were always cracks in it, small slips where truth was lost. The Ruins were one such example, and now this building was another.
