Chapter 1
Season 1 - Season 1 - Persephone Today marked the dreaded day that I had been anxiously anticipating all year. As I gazed upon the row of shops and bars lining the street across from me, a sense of unease settled in my stomach. The club situated in the middle of the row blared music, while a formidable bouncer stood guard at the entrance. In an attempt to calm my nerves, I reached into my pocket and retrieved a miniature chocolate bar. Although chocolate couldn't solve my problems, it provided some comfort. Whenever I felt nervous, I consumed chocolate with the intensity of a frantic hamster, my cheeks full and my eyes focused. It wasn't exactly an admirable quality, but I couldn't be blamed. After all, today was the day I had to pay off the blackmailer who had tormented me for years. The problem lay in the location of our meeting: Pandemonium, an underground fight club controlled by the shifters of Guild City. I hadn't ventured into their territory since I left secretly in the dead of night a decade ago. Staying away was the only way to remain hidden. My secret? I was destined to be the Alpha's mate, but I wanted to keep that information concealed from everyone. "Pull yourself together," I muttered, attempting to shake off my nerves. I steeled myself and approached the club, reminding myself that I was unrecognizable as the girl I once was. The passage of time had been kind to me, transforming me from an unattractive duckling into... well, not quite a swan, but certainly unrecognizable. Moreover, I wore a charm that concealed my failed shifter identity, giving me the appearance of a fae with pointed ears. No one would suspect who I truly was. Nevertheless, every inch of me quivered as I stood before the bouncer. His disdainful gaze roved over my form, prompting me to reach for another candy bar. However, I refrained from pulling it out, realizing it would be absurd to eat it while maintaining eye contact with him. "Hey, weirdo," he sneered. "I saw you standing across the street, staring at this place and stuffing chocolate into your mouth. Trying to satisfy some unfulfilled need, are you?" Just my luck. I had to engage in conversation with this man. Towering over me, his pale skin and crooked nose, likely broken multiple times, gave him an intimidating presence. The words "Lost Warior Soul" were tattooed on his neck, misspelled and all. I wondered if he even realized the mistake. "If you have any unfulfilled needs, you might as well admit it," he taunted, sticking out his tongue and waggling it. "You're not exactly my type. I prefer classy ladies, but I occasionally take on a pity case." "Well, that sounds delightful. Must've worn my lucky socks today. Unfortunately, I need to get inside. Will you let me pass?" I retorted. His lip curled in contempt. "Apologies, but this is a rather upscale establishment. Where did you acquire those clothes? A clearance sale at Primark?" Humiliation washed over me as memories of being bullied for my poverty and ugliness as a child flooded my mind. To make matters worse, the Alpha - the one who was meant to be my mate - had been the cruelest of them all. "I can change my clothes," I replied. "However, you'll forever be stuck looking like an idiot with a misspelled word permanently inked on your neck. Was it cheaper to omit the second 'R' in 'Warrior'? Tut, tut. You really ought to take better care of yourself. Now, are you going to grant me entry or not? I know this place isn't actually as classy as you pretend it to be." "You still look like something from a charity shop," he sneered, opening the door for me. Rolling my eyes, I stepped forward. The top floor of the establishment resembled any other bar - patrons perched on stools, sipping their drinks while the bartender served them. It had a slightly darker and more dangerous atmosphere than my usual haunt, but I could handle it. Only two people occupied the bar, both hunched over their glasses of amber liquid. The bartender, a tall woman with sharp eyes and a mop of purple hair, glanced up at me with disinterest. Since it was fight night, most customers were there for the action rather than the drinks. Memories of my younger years flooded back, reminding me of where to find the real excitement. I nodded once and turned my attention to the stairs on my left. The noise from the room below reverberated upwards. Before descending into the crowd, I ensured that the envelope containing the cash I had scrimped and saved for over a year was securely tucked away in my pocket. Determined to get this ordeal over with, I bounded down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Step one of hiding in plain sight: never show fear. My necklace aided in concealing my true identity, but attitude was just as crucial. And I possessed it. Gritting my teeth and squaring my shoulders, I descended the final few steps and entered the throng of people. Almost immediately, panic gripped me. Dozens of individuals crowded around the raised fighting ring at the center of the room. Sounds, scents, and heat overwhelmed my senses. For ten years, I had hidden from my pack, my family. And now, I found myself surrounded by them. My pack. Memories of my past flooded my mind, leaving me disoriented. Get a grip. I hastily retrieved a chocolate from my pocket and chewed on it, seeking solace in its taste. Calmed, I maneuvered through the crowd, making my way towards the bar. Ordering a drink would provide me with a logical place to stand while surveying the crowd. Although the bar was packed, I managed to squeeze between two men and find a spot. One of them turned to face me, curiosity glimmering in his pale eyes. I simply activated my Resting Bitch Face, causing him to flinch and turn away. In encounters like these, RBF was essential. Leaning over the bar, I caught the attention of the bartender. She stood tall and slender, her purple hair a wild mess atop her head. A sense of fear stabbed at my stomach. Clara. A bully from my school days. My heart rate quickened as I forced a smile, inhaling slowly through my teeth in an attempt to appear composed without seeming deranged. She stopped in front of me, a polite smile on her face. "What can I get you, love?" "Just a pint of lager. The cheapest kind," I replied. Nodding, she turned to the taps. Cold sweat trickled down my back as I maintained my composure. She hadn't recognized me. And she wouldn't. I was right. As she handed me the beer, I exchanged the money and averted my gaze, scanning the crowd. Was Leo among them? No, he couldn't be. He was the Alpha, for crying out loud - too busy and important to frequent an underground fight club. The fight in the ring had concluded, eliciting jeers or cheers from the spectators based on their allegiances. Bets were being placed left and right, heightening the emotional atmosphere. A sense of familiarity washed over me, evoking a longing for the camaraderie I had left behind. Despite their flaws, shifters possessed an innate goodness. They were loyal, passionate, and warm. Fierce when necessary and protective of those they cared about. I had abandoned it all, but that didn't mean I didn't mourn for what I had lost. Damn it, I needed to gather myself. Luckily, my gaze fell upon the despicable man himself: Levi Powell, the one who had discovered my secret. I had pleaded with him to meet elsewhere, but his fear of leaving their territory had been insurmountable. He stood in the shadows halfway to the ring, his face pale and gaunt. He looked terrible, as if he hadn't slept in months. Levi had never been attractive, but now he appeared utterly disheveled. Regardless, it didn't matter. I would pay off the blackmailer and resume my normal life - scraping by, but content and ultimately free. Determined, I maneuvered through the crowd, ready to put an end to this ordeal. As I approached him, a new figure ascended into the ring. Tall and broad, his muscles glinted under the light, appearing as if they had been sculpted by the gods themselves. When he turned towards me, I caught sight of his face - beautiful, yet fierce. Harsh angles combined with full lips and piercing dark eyes, presenting a poet's countenance atop a warrior's body. The sight of him struck me like a blow to the gut. Leo Harris. My head spun. Oh, God, why did I agree to meet here? The entire point of paying off the blackmailer was to avoid catching the attention of Leo Harris, the Alpha of the pack and my fated mate. The one I had fled from as a teenager. Back then, I barely knew him, but his words still cut deep. When I was fifteen, our most revered seer prophesied that I would become Leo's mate, and that the bond between us would somehow lead to my demise due to my abomination status. She wasn't mistaken about the abomination part. I lacked the shifter essence that resided within others. The Alpha's mate was meant to be a pure wolf, but I couldn't even shift. Even then, I knew I had to run. If I stayed, the best-case scenario involved being forced into a mating with the guy who had tormented me. The worst-case scenario, as predicted by our most powerful seer? My death. So, yes, I ran. Leo's gaze landed on me, igniting a surge of heat throughout my body, followed closely by fear. A connection seemed to tighten the air between us, something I hadn't felt in years. Before I could discern if recognition flickered across his face, four other figures entered the ring, their knuckles wrapped tightly. Leo turned to face them. Four against one. I wasn't surprised. He had been just a kid when I last saw him - eighteen to my fifteen - but even then, he exuded strength. But it didn't matter. Only one thing held any significance now: paying off Levi and escaping this place. Turning away, I pushed through the crowd, determined to get this over with. As I neared Levi, he noticed me, his eyes flashing. He appeared more twitchy than usual, clutching a tumbler of whisky in his hands. "About time," he muttered, thrusting the glass towards me. "Here, hold this. I need a smoke." "You can't smoke here." I accepted the glass, fearing he might drop it, and watched as he rummaged through his pockets. "Don't care." "Do it after I'm gone. I don't want to attract attention." I thrust the glass back at him, and he took it with a scowl. "Fine." He took a long sip. I unbuttoned the pocket of my jacket and retrieved the envelope containing the cash. Levi's eyes widened, and I furrowed my brow in confusion. Suddenly, he grimaced, his face contorting, before he collapsed on top of me like a sack of rocks. I hit the ground hard, trapped beneath his lifeless weight. "Levi!" I hissed, pushing at his shoulders in an attempt to free myself. "What's wrong?" "The bastard got..." He gasped for breath, then fell silent. Completely still. A wave of coldness washed over me, leaving me frozen in place. Levi was dead, and I was trapped.
Chapter 2
2 Persephone's mind went blank with shock for a brief second before the reality of her situation hit her. She found herself lying on her back in Pandemonium with a dead shifter on top of her. The terror that surged through her gave her the strength to push him off, but it was too late. A ring of shifters surrounded them, their faces filled with surprise which quickly turned to horror as they noticed the foam spilling from the dead shifter's lips. Dread coiled in Persephone's stomach as she realized he had been poisoned. As the shifters stared at her, Persephone's heart pounded in her ears. She knew she had to escape, but the shifters closed ranks, forming a tight circle around her. She was an outsider, and they were a pack. Accusations began to fly as one of the shifters pointed at her, accusing her of killing the dead shifter. Panic surged within her as she searched for a way out, but there seemed to be no escape. The shifters continued to berate her, claiming she had slipped something into the dead shifter's glass. Persephone desperately looked for a way to escape through the crowd, but her attempts were futile. Suddenly, a commanding voice bellowed over the crowd, capturing everyone's attention. It was him. The Alpha. Leo. Persephone's head spun as she turned towards the Alpha, unable to tear her gaze away. He stood at the edge of the ring, his presence exuding power that shook her to her core. Fear and panic coursed through her veins as the accusations against her grew louder. The Alpha's gaze landed on the dead shifter, his expression darkening with anger. Desperate to defend herself, Persephone gestured towards Levi's lifeless body, insisting that she had done nothing to harm him. But the shifters remained unconvinced, with one woman claiming that she had seen Persephone slip something into Levi's glass. The situation escalated as the shifters closed in on her, pushing her to the ground. Persephone's heart raced with fear as she wondered if they would tear her apart right there. But before anything more could unfold, the guards suddenly intervened. A man, presumably the Alpha, ordered them to take her to the tower. Panic surged through Persephone as she realized the dire consequences of being taken to the shifters' tower. The guards, two burly men, dragged Persephone through the crowd towards the tower. She desperately tried to break free, but their grip only tightened, causing her pain. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she fought to hold them back. The Alpha's authoritative voice sent a chill down her spine as he commanded them to take her away. As they reached the tower, Persephone's mind raced with escape plans. However, she knew that the odds were stacked against her. She was outnumbered and trapped. With a heavy heart, she accepted her fate and allowed the guards to drag her inside. Once inside the tower, Persephone's surroundings felt eerily familiar. The vaulted entry room with trestle tables and an old castle-like atmosphere had not changed. But there was no time to dwell on nostalgia. The guards quickly led her towards the back of the room, and Persephone's mind raced, wondering if they would take her to the living quarters or the dungeons. To her dismay, they took her left, towards the dungeons. Panic surged through Persephone as she realized the gravity of her situation. Alone in a cold and damp cell, she knew she had to act quickly. The guards stripped her of her belongings, including her enchanted necklace, which served as her disguise. Trapped and alone, Persephone's mind raced with thoughts of escape and the looming fate that awaited her at the hands of the Alpha. Alone in her cell, Persephone clung to the hope that her friends from the Shadow Guild could help her. However, she knew she couldn't drag them into this dangerous situation. The weight of her lies and the fear of facing Leo, the Alpha, consumed her thoughts. With a heavy heart, she realized that she might have to leave Guild City, the only place she truly felt at home. Fear and desperation coursed through Persephone as she contemplated her next move. Trapped in her cell, she knew she had to come up with a plan to escape her dire fate.
Chapter 3
3 Persephone After some time, the door swung open, jolting me awake from a restless sleep against the wall. I quickly got to my feet as a stocky guard stood at the entrance, scowling. "He'll see you now," he grumbled. A wave of cold washed over me. Damn. The guard stepped forward, reaching out to grab my arm. His touch made my skin crawl, and I instinctively pulled away. "I can walk," I snapped. He growled, his magical signature revealing itself to me. The scent of grass and the sound of birds screeching. He was a moderate strength shifter, probably some kind of bird of prey. I could probably take him. But then I noticed four more guards in the hall. Double damn. "Don't even think about trying anything," the guard warned. Yeah, no shit. "I'm aware that I'm going to meet the Alpha," I retorted. "I know," the guard frowned. "I wasn't talking to you," I replied, striding past him. I refused to cower, even if I didn't like my fate. As the guards led me up the wide stone stairs, fear gripped me. Years of hiding had made me cautious, and my survival instincts were on high alert. What if he recognized me? I surreptitiously touched my pointed ears. He wouldn't suspect a thing. As far as he knew, it was impossible to fake your species. And besides, I looked completely different now. Still, terror followed me every step of the way. As we ascended to the main level, the sounds of conversation and music grew louder. Shifters loved to party. Normally, I would've enjoyed it. But now, it felt like an unwanted audience. Entering the main room, I squared my shoulders and stiffened my spine. I refused to let them see how scared I truly was. "Go on," the guard nudged me, and I walked forward. The room that had been empty before was now filled with people, food, and a band playing in the corner. It seemed like the party had been going on for hours, with cups and plates scattered everywhere. A pang of homesickness struck me. Sure, I still lived in Guild City, and I had no intention of leaving. But this part of the city—the shifters' domain—had once been my home, and I missed it. Anger surged through me, fueling my resolve. Thankfully, I caught sight of Leo amidst the crowd. I had seen him a few times on the street, always avoiding eye contact. But seeing him now felt entirely different. He sat in a massive wooden chair by the fire, exuding both relaxation and danger. His muscular form was draped elegantly, giving off the air of a warrior king. Sweaty and bruised from battle, he was undeniably attractive, albeit in a brutal way. The golden firelight danced over his dark hair, making his green eyes resemble shadowed emeralds as he observed me. There was an eerie stillness about him, the kind that marked true predators. As the Alpha Wolf, he was the ultimate predator. He hadn't inherited this position—it was earned. I swallowed hard and approached him, stopping ten feet away from his throne, or rather, his massive chair. From this distance, his magical signatures hit me like a wave. The scent of evergreen, the growl of a predator, the taste of whiskey, and the sensation of a protective embrace. Or a destructive one. He was a man of contradictions, especially in his aura. Only the strongest supernaturals possessed auras, and his was wild. A core of fire encased in ice. His power was tightly controlled, yet there was a part of him that yearned to be set free. His wolf, perhaps? There was something... broken about him. But he had also managed to piece himself back together, becoming stronger in the process. Flawed, yet resilient. Finally, our gazes met, and a connection sparked between us. It felt like an electric current running through the air. Almost as if my soul recognized him, which terrified me to no end. He raised an eyebrow. "Had enough?" Like many shifters in this pack, he had a Scottish accent. Our ancestral grounds lay in Scotland, and he had spent his childhood there. I fought back a blush. "Not much to look at." The words had been pent up inside me for years, and it felt good to let them out. Even if they were a lie. A slight twitch appeared at the corner of his mouth, almost like he was about to smile. I found myself captivated by his lips, far more interested than I should have been. But instead of a smile, he frowned and rose from his seat. He was massive, like a redwood built of muscle. The threadbare T-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders seemed to struggle to contain him. If he hadn't been such an asshole to me all those years ago, I might have wanted to hold onto him. But he had been cruel, and I despised him. The fact that he looked nothing like the boy I once knew didn't matter. It didn't matter that the weight of the world now rested on his shoulders. Fear coursed through me as he approached. Tension crackled in the air between us, sending heat pulsing through my veins. I took shallow breaths, trying to regain my composure. The connection between us felt like an invisible thread, drawing us closer with forces I couldn't comprehend. My entire body buzzed with energy, like I had swallowed a handful of fairy lights. What was this feeling? His gaze roamed over me. Did he feel it too? Did he recognize me? He frowned again, his eyes lingering on my magically enhanced pointed ears. Go ahead and look. They're not going anywhere. Unless he removed my necklace. Then he glanced over my head at the party behind me and nodded. The music abruptly stopped, and I didn't need to turn around to know that people were quickly clearing out. His word was law here. "You're Persephone. No last name," he stated. "I don't have one." "Hmm. You're the potion maker from town." He circled me, inspecting me like a predator assessing its prey. Every inch of me coiled tightly, ready to snap. "Do you really not recognize me?" I wondered aloud. His voice rumbled low from behind me. "You killed Levi." "Are you fucking serious?" I spun around to face him, disregarding the fact that one did not curse at the Alpha. I didn't care, especially if he didn't recognize me. "We were in the middle of Pandemonium, for fuck's sake. Do you really think I decided to murder him right then and there with a fast-acting potion?" "You're skilled with potions, aren't you?" he questioned. My temper flared. "Skilled enough to know the difference between fast-acting and slow-acting, and not mess it up. By the way, you have some of my things. I'd like them back." "Maybe," he replied, giving me a long, searching look. His gaze sent a surge of nervous heat through me, as if my body didn't know how to react to him. I despised it. He stepped closer, his scent of evergreen enveloping me. I breathed through my mouth, determined to dislike everything about him. He stopped two feet away, and every hair on my body stood on end. "Why are you hiding your signature?" he murmured. "Your scent is off." Shit. Powerful supernaturals could repress parts of their magical signature, and he was right—I was doing just that. My natural signature was so unique that it risked exposing me. I shrugged. "I'm just not that powerful. That's why I focus on potions. It's a way to compensate for my shortcomings." "I highly doubt that," his voice purred, threatening yet strangely seductive. I fucking hated him. And I fucking hated myself for being attracted to him. "Well, it's the truth," I retorted, crossing my arms. "It's all very suspicious, don't you think?" he questioned. "You're hiding something about your magic, and you came here with a bracelet full of potions and an envelope full of cash. You used one of those potions to knock out my guards." I swallowed hard. "I always wear the bracelet. It's not like I put it on just to use it against your pack." He chuckled darkly. "And what about the money?" "Just a coincidence." "Was it for Levi?" "No." "I'm not sure I believe you. Why shouldn't I toss you back in that dungeon right now?" My heart raced. "That's not fair. I deserve a trial. Guild City has rules." "Not rules that apply to us." Damn it, he was right. The Council of Guilds governed Guild City, and although shifters were technically part of the council, they operated under their own set of rules. The pack—and its Alpha—would never submit to outside governance. They had their own laws, and things were different here. You could feel it in the air when you stepped onto their territory. We are not like the others. It might as well have been their motto. Instead, it was Urram, Misneachd, Dìlseachd—Scottish Gaelic for Honor, Courage, Loyalty. Which meant I was on my own. My heart raced, fear pushing me forward. "I didn't do it. Let me prove my innocence because locking me up won't help if the killer plans to strike again." He regarded me for a long moment, as if he could peer into my very soul. My mind raced, searching for reasons why he should let me go. If I could prove my innocence, maybe I could even retrieve my money. "The potion that killed Levi is a crucial clue, and I can help identify it and possibly lead us to the killer. You need me." "Maybe," he mused, circling back towards his throne. I turned to watch him, my eyes fixated on the golden metal circle I hadn't noticed before, slung over the arm of the chair. His stride was purposeful, and within seconds, he stood directly in front of me, so close I could smell him. Earthy and dark, the scent of sweat from battle wasn't unpleasant. No, I found it strangely enticing. "You can prove your innocence," he said, "but you'll wear this." He moved with such speed that I didn't see it coming. One moment, I stood there, completely normal, and the next, a golden collar encircled my neck. "What the hell?" I reached up to grab it, trying to yank it off. The damn thing wouldn't budge. Anger surged within me. A collar. That bastard had put a collar on me, like a dog. Old anger and hurt resurfaced. I had never wanted to hex someone so badly in my entire life, even though I wasn't even a witch. Once this was all over, I would go straight to the Witches' Guild and learn how to hex his balls off. "It's just a tracking collar," he explained. "Nothing dangerous." Not dangerous until he decided to come find me and kill me if I didn't solve the murder quickly enough. I grimaced and lowered my hand. "You're a bastard." He nodded, his gaze flashing with the same heat and ice I had seen in his aura. "As long as we're clear on that, we're good. Don't try to run because I will find you. Don't try to remove it because you can't. Until you prove your innocence, you're mine." You're mine.
Chapter 4
4 Leo's gaze was fixated on the woman before him, captivated by her beauty and radiance. She seemed to shine like the moon, awakening the primal desires within him. He clenched his fist, attempting to suppress the overwhelming sensation. This feeling had only consumed him once before, when he encountered the girl destined for him by fate. Back then, he had let his emotions take control, resulting in disastrous consequences. He couldn't afford to repeat that mistake, not for anyone. Yet, her scent enveloped him like a silky embrace, drawing him closer. It took every ounce of strength to maintain his distance and restrain his wolf, the most feral part of him driven by instinct and desire. Leo reached into his pocket and retrieved a steel flask, taking a sip of the whisky that failed to intoxicate him due to his fast metabolism. The burn of the alcohol mixed with the potion designed to suppress stronger emotions provided some solace. Emotions were a curse for his kind, especially for his lineage, as they led to the madness of the Dark Moon curse. The woman glanced at Leo's flask, raising an eyebrow. "Isn't it a little early for that?" she questioned. "No," Leo replied firmly. "It's almost morning." "Then it's still late at night." Her collar gleamed around her neck, and Leo wondered if allowing her assistance was a foolish decision. No, he needed to uncover what she was up to. Despite his attempts to provoke her with threats of imprisonment, she remained composed. Leo was almost certain she hadn't murdered Levi. Witness statements from trusted sources supported her innocence, and the potions found in her cuff showed no signs of poison. However, there was something about her presence and hidden motives that intrigued him. He craved answers. "I need to see the body," she declared. Leo nodded. "I'll show you." "And I need my things back." Again, he nodded. "Come on, then." She hurried to keep up with him as they walked through the main room. Leo couldn't help but steal glances at her, mesmerized by her silver and pink hair that shimmered under the light. Strangely, she felt almost familiar, reminiscent of the girl he had briefly known in the past. However, this woman was a fae, and her appearance was entirely different. That girl from his past was gone, and he was grateful for it. She had disappeared without a trace, driven away by his cruel words. The guilt still lingered, but it was necessary to protect himself. She had been a wolf, and this woman was a fae. They were separate entities, and he couldn't allow himself to dwell on the past. Leo forced himself to push aside thoughts of her and focus on the task at hand. Levi may have been a troublesome member of the pack, but he had been a friend to his brother. He needed to find justice for him. Suppressing his emotions once more, Leo quickened his pace. She kept up with him effortlessly as they made their way through the labyrinthine hallways of the guild tower towards his quarters. Finally, they arrived at the door. "You'll wait here," Leo instructed. "Fine." Leo entered his spartan quarters and approached the table near the hearth. There sat her wallet, cuff, mobile, and envelope of cash. He picked up everything except the money and returned to her, handing them over. She frowned. "Where's the money? And my potions are gone from my cuff. And my chocolates are missing." "We had to analyze the potions and chocolates. They're gone. You'll get the money back when this is all over." Leo's eyes narrowed. "And once I've figured out what you're hiding." She scowled at him but didn't argue. "Just take me to the body." "This way." Leading her down to the main level of the tower, Leo guided her towards the back of the building. "The body is in the meat freezer," he explained, pushing open the door to the massive kitchen. "What the hell?" she exclaimed. "We don't usually have murder victims in our pack. We lack the necessary facilities." "You could have taken him to the morgue." "Outside our territory? Never." "So you put him where you store the food." Leo nodded. "Aye." He opened the huge metal door, relishing the blast of icy air that greeted them. "And he's not contaminating any of the food." "Still, it's gross," she remarked as she slipped past him. Her scent invaded his senses, and Leo couldn't help but inhale deeply, struggling to maintain control. It was acceptable to desire her, considering the years of loneliness he had endured. However, acting on those desires was not an option. Leo resisted the urge to reach for his flask, knowing that self-control was a game he had to play. She stopped beside Levi's body, which lay on a massive table at the center of the room. "Did you search the corpse?" she asked. "Aye." Leo pulled out a business card from his pocket. "Besides his wallet and cigarettes, this was all we found on him." He handed her the card, and she examined it, a flicker of worry crossing her eyes. "Clarence Tomes. I don't recognize the name." "How did you know Levi?" Leo inquired, studying her carefully. "I've never seen you with him before." "I didn't really know him. He approached me and asked me to hold his drink while he went to get a cigarette." "No smoking in Pandemonium." "That's what I told him." She turned her attention back to the body, closely inspecting Levi's face. Leo moved closer to get a better look, trying to ignore the effect being in her presence had on him. It was as if his heart beat faster, his mind more engaged. She was merely a curiosity, nothing more. He had been alone for too long, and she was nothing but a distraction. Yet, the inexplicable pull he felt towards her was undeniable. She leaned in closer to the body, her gaze fixed on his face. Dark veins marred Levi's skin, and his eyes were swollen shut. "Do you recognize what happened to him?" Leo asked. She furrowed her brow. "There are a few possibilities. Do you have the glass he was drinking from?" "It's still at the scene, which is currently locked down." "I need to retrieve that glass. Can I also speak to the bartender who was working last night?" Leo nodded. "Aye. Follow me." Together, they walked through the tower, and Leo couldn't help but notice the fae's watchful gaze upon him. She remained silent, and he appreciated it. Leading her out of the tower, they crossed the courtyard towards Pandemonium. The sun began to rise over the city walls as they approached Persephone, the fae woman. "Clara, the bartender, resides above the establishment," Leo informed her. She nodded. "She won't be pleased with me knocking at this hour." "She will do as her Alpha commands," Leo replied. Persephone grimaced. "Do you have a problem with our way of life?" "I know nothing about it," she admitted. They reached the front of Pandemonium, and Leo pointed to the small windows on the third story. "She lives up there. We can go around the side." Persephone nodded. "I've got it from here. You don't need to accompany me, Alpha." "I'm coming," Leo insisted. She glared at him. "Suit yourself." Leading her to an alley between Pandemonium and the adjacent shop, Leo opened a narrow green door and climbed the steps to the third floor. Persephone followed closely behind, stopping just behind him as he knocked on the door. A thump sounded from inside, as if someone had fallen out of bed. Footsteps approached, and Leo caught a whiff of Clara's distinct scent, a mixture of cloves and orange. The door swung open, and Clara peered out at them with drowsy eyes. Her purple hair stuck out in all directions, mirroring the shadows beneath her eyes. The annoyance on her face transformed into respect when she noticed Leo, and she straightened, lowering her gaze. "Alpha, how can I assist you?" "Clara, you can answer her questions," Leo said, gesturing towards Persephone. Clara looked at Persephone, her confusion evident. "Okay." "Yes," Persephone spoke up. "I have a few questions about Levi." "Really? I thought you were here to inquire about my hairstylist," Clara remarked sarcastically, patting her disheveled hair. "Clara," Leo warned. She perked up, sensing the authority in his voice. "Apologies. What can I do?" "Did you serve Levi last night?" Persephone asked. "He didn't get the drink from us," Clara responded. "Really?" "Really. Someone else must have ordered it for him." "And you didn't see who?" Persephone pressed. "No. But Levi liked whisky, and he wouldn't turn down a free drink." "He would have been an easy target." Clara nodded. "Most likely, but I didn't see who did it. I thought it was you." "But you served me a beer." Clara frowned. "You're right. But that doesn't mean you couldn't have brought whisky in a flask and poured it into an empty glass. Or perhaps you slipped a bit of potion into the glass he handed you." Clara was astute, but Leo knew there was no flask on Persephone, and she hadn't held the glass long enough to tamper with it. At least, not that he knew of. "Well, I didn't," Persephone asserted. "Have you been back down to the bar since the incident?" "No, it's under lockdown as per the Alpha's orders." "Thank you." Persephone turned to Leo. "We need to retrieve that broken glass." "I have the key." "Good." Persephone faced Clara once more. "Were there any unfamiliar faces in the bar last night?" Leo scrutinized Persephone, trying to decipher her motives. She was determined to solve this mystery, but why had she been present at the scene in the first place? "I didn't recognize you," Clara replied. "And a few others." "Can you describe them?" Persephone inquired. "An artist will be working with you later to create sketches," Leo informed Clara. She nodded. "I'll cooperate." "Great." Persephone seemed satisfied. "Thank you for your assistance," Leo said. "We're going to check the bar now." "Let me know if there's anything else I can do to help," Clara offered. Her expression softened. "I didn't like Levi, but he was pack. What happened to him was wrong." "It would be wrong even if he wasn't pack," Persephone interjected. "True. But it hits closer to home." Persephone ignored the comment and began to leave. Leo followed her down the stairs, his gaze fixed on her vibrant hair. He needed to divert his attention elsewhere, away from her enticing figure. He had avoided romantic entanglements for years, ever since his father fell victim to the Dark Moon curse. And Persephone, well, she had abandoned him. All shifters were susceptible to the curse, but his lineage was at an even greater risk. Strong emotions could trigger the madness that would consume their loyalty and sanity, leaving only their feral wolves behind. It had claimed his father, but Leo was determined not to succumb to its influence. He wouldn't allow it. Taking another swig from his flask, he relied on the potion to suppress any emotions that dared to emerge. He needed to remain the cunning and level-headed Alpha he always had been. The fae woman posed a challenge, but perhaps she wasn't Levi's killer after all. She was concealing something, though, and Leo was determined to uncover the truth.
Chapter 5
5 With a sense of urgency, I fled the bar and ascended the stairs, emerging into the crisp morning air. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a faint glow over the horizon. Using the dim light as my guide, I swiftly made my way out of the shifters' territory and into the heart of Guild City. As I walked away from the towering structure, I stole one last glance at the grassy courtyard. Leo was nowhere in sight, but the imposing tower pierced the sky, a constant reminder of the danger I had narrowly escaped. The fact that I had been inside the shifters' tower was almost unfathomable. It sent shivers down my spine, and I quickly turned away, determined to put distance between myself and that place. As I stepped onto neutral ground, I reached up to tug at the collar around my neck, but it refused to budge. To make matters worse, I could feel the pulsating magic emanating from it. Leo could track me down at any moment. The thought sent another chill through me. Had he truly not recognized me? I couldn't help but wonder if he had noticed my pointed ears and felt a mix of curiosity and anger. But somehow, he hadn't made the connection. Thankfully, my complete transformation into a different species seemed to have convinced him. Most supernaturals believed it was impossible to change species, so the fact that I could fake the magic was a well-kept secret. Not only did my magical signature resemble that of a fae, but I possessed abilities such as lightning manipulation, plant growth, and even flight. I would have to find a way to subtly reveal my wings to throw him off the scent. Lost in my thoughts, I accidentally bumped into a man, who glared at me and snapped, "Hey! Watch where you're going!" "Sorry!" I apologized hastily, realizing that I had lost track of my surroundings in the bustling city streets. This was not good. The encounter with Leo had left me reeling, and his newfound power and enigmatic connection to me were still fresh in my mind. As I hurried along the pavement, weaving through the crowds of motorbikes that filled the narrow streets, I couldn't help but marvel at the quaint charm of Guild City. The Tudor buildings, with their dark wood and white plaster exteriors, stood as a testament to the city's rich history. Only the shops deviated from this traditional aesthetic, boasting large glass fronts that showcased their various wares. The glittering displays within the shop windows beckoned me, offering everything from clothing and electronics to weapons and spells. In the past, my finances had been strained due to Levi, but now, if I could solve this mystery and reclaim what was rightfully mine, perhaps I would finally have some breathing room. I was free, or at least, almost free. However, guilt tugged at my conscience as I remembered Levi's untimely demise. He may have been a despicable person, but he didn't deserve to die like that. My thoughts then drifted back to Leo, who seemed so different now—powerful yet restrained, like an immovable island amidst a raging storm. And the inexplicable connection between us continued to puzzle me. I continued my brisk walk across town until I reached the Shadow Guild tower, my home and workplace. The relatively small tower, compared to the shifters' towering edifice, served as the headquarters for a handful of misfits in Guild City. Despite its size, our tower exuded a unique beauty. Its pale gray stone gleamed under the sunlight, while the diamond-shaped panes of glass on the windows sparkled like precious gems. Climbing roses adorned the walls, courtesy of my faux fae earth magic. Guilt pricked at me once more as I realized that my friends knew me as an accomplished potion maker, but they were unaware of my ability to fake my true species. Shaking off the guilt, I hurried inside the tower, calling out, "Hello? Anyone here?" Thankfully, no one answered, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I leaned against the door. The cozy living room greeted me, filled with plush furniture and artwork I had collected over the years. Everything looked just as I had left it. "Thank the fates," I whispered to myself, feeling a sense of comfort wash over me. Although I had recently moved into the Shadow Guild tower while my friends still resided in their own flats, they often gathered here for meetings and parties. It was a place that felt like home, a fairytale tower nestled within the bustling city I loved. Setting down the bundle of towels and glass on the table by the entrance, I knew there were pressing matters at hand. But before I could address them, I desperately needed a shower and some chocolate to ease my tension. My nerves were on edge, and a million chocolate bars wouldn't be enough to calm me, but it was worth a try. I made my way to the tiny kitchen, only to find my stash of chocolate bars completely empty. Frowning, I stared at the drawer that had been brimming with treats just the day before. How had it emptied so quickly? A mischievous raccoon came to mind. Raccoons weren't even supposed to live in London, yet one had somehow found its way to me and made it a personal mission to pilfer my beloved chocolate bars. Isabella had a raccoon familiar named Cordelia, but this one was different—an outright thief. Guild City seemed to be infested with them. "I will catch you one day," I muttered under my breath, addressing the furry little bandit. Frustrated, I turned my attention to the Lion bar that I had stashed under a lampshade. It wasn't the freshest, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I tore into it, trying to ignore the fact that I had resorted to hiding chocolate like a madwoman. After a quick shower to wash away the tension, I returned to my bedroom. My closet was in disarray, but I quickly dismissed the idea of wearing one of my usual flowy dresses. The situation demanded jeans and leather—something practical and ready for whatever dangers lay ahead. Swiftly changing into my chosen attire, I gathered the broken glass and towels, knowing that there was important work to be done. My workshop awaited me just across the hall, a place where I found solace and control. Stepping inside, I regarded the bundle of glass with determination. "I will find out who made you." First things first, I needed one of Liora's books. Liora, a friend who had gifted me with invaluable knowledge and supplies, had turned me into one of the most skilled potion masters in the world. It was this skill that had granted me the freedom to continue living in Guild City, a city that held my heart and dreams. Focusing on the task at hand, I gathered the necessary ingredients and lit a small fire beneath a silver cauldron. This was precision work, not a matter of quantity. My mind cleared as I meticulously measured out the ingredients, creating a bubbling and fragrant concoction. Taking one of the broken pieces of glass, I ensured it had an oily sheen on the inside. "You're mine," I whispered, dropping the shard into the potion. With book in hand, I waited for the liquid to emit its telltale smoke. Within minutes, a sparkling green mist spiraled from the potion, shimmering with an almost oily texture. Hastily, I flipped through the pages of Liora's book, searching for a match. "The Ageratina potion?" I murmured to myself. "The Agerawhat?" Mac's voice startled me, and I jerked my head up from the book. MacBeth O'Connell, my dear friend, stood in the doorway. Her rugged yet stylish attire suited her perfectly—jeans worn at the knees, tucked into black leather motorcycle boots, a plaid shirt revealing a tank top, and short blond hair framing her face. She was tall and slender, a female hipster lumberjack with an undeniable allure. "It's not much," I replied, attempting to regain my composure. "I'll explain." As I shared the details of my predicament with Mac, her expression grew paler with each passing word. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on us both. The fact that the shifters were pursuing me for murder was no small matter. They operated with impunity, beyond the reach of the Council of Guilds or any form of regulation. "I know," I admitted, shivering at the thought of the shifters' unchecked power. "But don't worry," Mac reassured me, determination shining in her eyes. "We won't let them get away with this. We'll find a way to prove your innocence." A surge of gratitude swelled within me. "You guys are the best," I said sincerely. "Well, I won't argue with that," Mac quipped, her lips quirking into a grin. "But seriously, what's with the smoke?" I explained my intention to uncover the identity of the potion maker responsible for Levi's death. Mac's expertise lay in reading people, but perhaps she could help narrow down the list of suspects. "I can try," she offered, holding out her hand. I placed a piece of the broken glass in her palm, and she closed her eyes, focusing her magic. The air tingled with an otherworldly energy as she delved into the essence of the glass. After a few moments, she opened her eyes. "I'm not getting anything," Mac admitted, disappointment etched on her face. "We should try Isabella." Nodding in agreement, I realized that our friend's unique ability to glean information from objects could prove invaluable. "Where is she?" "The Haunted Hound. She had something to drop off with Quinn," Mac informed me. The Haunted Hound, a pub and one of the portals to human London, was where Mac and Quinn worked. It seemed like the perfect place to regroup and seek Isabella's assistance. "There's just one thing I need to do," I said, grabbing a vial from my stash and filling it with various potions. "Alright, let's go." Together, Mac and I made our way through town, eventually reaching the gate that led to the Haunted Hound. Stepping into the ether, the ethereal substance that connected all things, we emerged in the back hallway of the pub. My head spun momentarily as I acclimated to the transition. The lively sounds of conversation and clinking glasses welcomed us as we stepped into the main area of the pub. As we approached the bar, where Quinn stood serving customers, Isabella and Seraphia, two of my closest friends, turned to face us. Their smiles faded when they caught sight of the collar around my neck, instantly recognizing it for what it was. "What on earth is that?" Isabella asked, her voice laced with concern. Taking a deep breath, I recounted the harrowing tale, just as I had done with Mac. As I spoke, the color drained from my friends' faces, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. I had lied to them, concealing my past and true species. Now, as the truth unraveled, I couldn't help but wonder how they would react. When I finished speaking, Isabella extended her hand. "Give it to me." Grateful for her support, I handed her the glass shard. She closed her eyes and held it gently, allowing her magic to connect with the object. Time seemed to stand still as we waited anxiously for any revelations. Finally, Isabella opened her eyes. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't find anything," she confessed. Disappointment washed over me, but Isabella's suggestion brought a glimmer of hope. "We can try Isabella," I suggested. As a skilled practitioner of object reading, she might be able to uncover valuable information. Nodding in agreement, Isabella confirmed that Isabella was at The Haunted Hound, dropping something off with Quinn. It was the perfect opportunity to regroup and seek her assistance. Before leaving my workshop, I quickly prepared a vial of potions and gathered the broken glass, leaving the rest behind. With Mac by my side, we made our way through town, finally reaching the gate that led to The Haunted Hound. Stepping into the ether, we emerged in the back hallway of the pub, greeted by the sounds of conversation and clinking glasses. As we approached the bar, Quinn greeted us with a wide grin. "What can I get you ladies? Beer? Tea?" "Tea, please," I requested with a smile, grateful for his friendly presence. Quinn was a broad-shouldered man with auburn hair and a warm smile. He exuded a sense of reassurance, and I was thankful for his support during this tumultuous time. Isabella and Seraphia, sitting at the bar, turned to face us. Their expressions shifted from curiosity to concern as they noticed the collar around my neck. "What's that?" Isabella asked, her voice filled with worry. With a deep breath, I recounted the events that had led me to this point. The weight of my secret lifted as I shared the truth with my friends. Their faces paled as they absorbed the gravity of the situation, and guilt gnawed at me for keeping them in the dark for so long. Isabella extended her hand, and I passed her the glass shard. She closed her eyes, her magic intertwining with the object as she sought answers. We waited in anticipation, hoping for a breakthrough. When Isabella opened her eyes, disappointment flickered across her face. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't find anything," she confessed. My heart sank, but Mac's suggestion gave us a glimmer of hope. Isabella might be able to help us further by using her object reading abilities. The realization that we needed to delve deeper into this mystery weighed heavily on us. "Where is she?" I asked, eager to seek Isabella's guidance. "She's at The Haunted Hound, dropping something off with Quinn," Mac replied. The Haunted Hound served as a pub and one of the portals to human London. It was the perfect place to regroup and seek Isabella's assistance. Before we left, I quickly prepared a vial of potions and gathered the broken glass, leaving the rest behind. With determination in our hearts, Mac and I ventured through town, eventually reaching the gate that led to The Haunted Hound. Stepping into the ether, we emerged in the back hallway of the pub, the lively sounds of conversation and clinking glasses enveloping us. As we made our way toward the bar, Quinn greeted us with a warm smile. "What can I get you ladies? Beer? Tea?" "Tea, please," I requested, feeling a sense of comfort in familiar surroundings. Quinn's presence was reassuring, and I knew that we were not alone in this journey. Isabella and Seraphia turned their attention toward us, curiosity evident in their eyes. But as their gazes fell upon the collar around my neck, concern etched across their faces. "What's going on?" Isabella asked, her voice filled with worry. Taking a deep breath, I shared the truth, recounting the events that had unfolded. The weight of my secret lifted as I revealed the full extent of my predicament. My friends listened intently, their expressions growing increasingly somber. When I finished speaking, Isabella held out her hand, and I placed the glass shard into her palm. She closed her eyes, allowing her magic to connect with the object. We waited in anticipation, hoping for a breakthrough. Isabella opened her eyes, disappointment clouding her features. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't find anything," she admitted. A wave of frustration washed over me, but Mac's suggestion offered a glimmer of hope. Isabella possessed unique skills as an object reader, and her insights could prove invaluable in our quest for answers. Determination burned within me as I considered our next move. "Where is she?" I inquired, eager to seek Isabella's guidance. "She's at The Haunted Hound, dropping something off with Quinn," Mac replied. The Haunted Hound, a pub and one of the portals to human London, seemed like the perfect place to regroup and enlist Isabella's help. Before we departed, I gathered a vial of potions and secured the broken glass, leaving the rest behind. With newfound resolve, Mac and I embarked on our journey through town, ultimately arriving at the gate that led to The Haunted Hound. Stepping into the ether, we emerged in the back hallway of the pub, greeted by the familiar sounds of conversation and clinking glasses. As we made our way toward the bar, Quinn's warm smile welcomed us. "What can I get you ladies? Beer? Tea?" "Tea, please," I requested, grateful for his friendly presence. Quinn's broad shoulders and auburn hair exuded a sense of ease and reassurance. He was a constant source of support throughout this tumultuous journey. Isabella and Seraphia, seated at the bar, turned their attention to us. Their expressions shifted from curiosity to concern as they laid eyes on the collar around my neck. "What's that?" Isabella asked, her voice tinged with worry. Taking a deep breath, I shared the truth with my friends, laying bare the events that had led me to this point. The weight of my secret lifted as I revealed the full extent of my predicament. My friends listened intently, their expressions growing increasingly somber. When I finished speaking, Isabella extended her hand, and I gingerly handed her the glass shard. She closed her eyes, her magic enveloping the object as she delved into its essence. We waited with bated breath, hoping for a breakthrough. Finally, Isabella opened her eyes, disappointment etching her features. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't find anything," she confessed. A tinge of frustration washed over me, but Mac's suggestion offered a glimmer of hope. Isabella possessed a unique talent for reading objects, and her insights could prove invaluable in our quest for answers. Determination coursed through me as I considered our next steps. "Where is she?" I inquired, eager to seek Isabella's guidance. "The Haunted Hound. She had something to drop off with Quinn," Mac replied. The Haunted Hound, a pub and one of the portals to human London, seemed like the perfect place to regroup and seek Isabella's help. Before we departed, I carefully stowed the broken glass and gathered a vial of potions. With renewed determination, Mac and I embarked on our journey through town, ultimately reaching the gate that led to The Haunted Hound. Stepping into the ether, we emerged in the back hallway of the pub, greeted by the familiar sounds of conversation and clinking glasses. Making our way toward the bar, Quinn's warm smile welcomed us. "What can I get you ladies? Beer? Tea?" "Tea, please," I requested, grateful for his presence. Quinn's broad shoulders and auburn hair exuded a sense of ease and reassurance. He had been a pillar of support throughout this tumultuous journey. Isabella and Seraphia, seated at the bar, turned their attention toward us. Their expressions shifted from curiosity to concern as they noticed the collar around my neck. "What's that?" Isabella asked, her voice tinged with worry. Taking a deep breath, I shared the truth with my friends, revealing the full extent of my predicament. The weight of my secret lifted as I laid bare the events that had led me to this point. My friends listened intently, their expressions growing increasingly somber. When I finished speaking, Isabella extended her hand, and I handed her the glass shard. She closed her eyes, her magic intertwining with the object as she sought answers. We waited in anticipation, hoping for a breakthrough. Finally, Isabella opened her eyes, disappointment flickering across her face. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't find anything," she confessed. My heart sank, but Mac's suggestion offered a glimmer of hope. Isabella possessed a unique ability to glean information from objects, and her insights could prove invaluable in our quest for answers. Determination surged through me as I considered our next move. "Where is she?" I asked, eager to seek Isabella's guidance. "The Haunted Hound. She had something to drop off with Quinn," Mac replied. The Haunted Hound, a pub and one of the portals to human London, seemed like the perfect place to regroup and enlist Isabella's help. Before we left, I gathered a vial of potions and secured the broken glass, leaving the rest behind. With renewed determination, Mac and I embarked on our journey through town, ultimately reaching the gate that led to The Haunted Hound. Stepping into the ether, we emerged in the back hallway of the pub, greeted by the familiar sounds of conversation and clinking glasses. Making our way toward the bar, Quinn's warm smile welcomed us. "What can I get you ladies? Beer? Tea?" "Tea, please," I requested, grateful for his presence. Quinn's broad shoulders and auburn hair exuded a sense of ease and reassurance. He had been a pillar of support throughout this tumultuous journey. Isabella and Seraphia, seated at the bar, turned their attention toward us. Their expressions shifted from curiosity to concern as they noticed the collar around my neck. "What's that?" Isabella asked, her voice tinged with worry. Taking a deep breath, I shared the truth with my friends, revealing the full extent of my predicament. The weight of my secret lifted as I laid bare the events that had led me to this point. My friends listened intently, their expressions growing increasingly somber. When I finished speaking, Isabella extended her hand, and I handed her the glass shard. She closed her eyes, her magic intertwining with the object as she sought answers. We waited in anticipation, hoping for a breakthrough. Finally, Isabella opened her eyes, disappointment flickering across her face. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't find anything," she confessed. My heart sank, but Mac's suggestion offered a glimmer of hope. Isabella possessed a unique ability to glean information from objects, and her insights could prove invaluable in our quest for answers. Determination surged through me as I considered our next move. "Where is she?" I asked, eager to seek Isabella's guidance. "The Haunted Hound. She had something to drop off with Quinn," Mac replied. The Haunted Hound, a pub and one of the portals to human London, seemed like the perfect place to regroup and enlist Isabella's help. Before we left, I gathered a vial of potions and secured the broken glass, leaving the rest behind. With renewed determination, Mac and I embarked on our journey through town, ultimately reaching the gate that led to The Haunted Hound. Stepping into the ether, we emerged in the back hallway of the pub, greeted by the familiar sounds of conversation and clinking glasses. Making our way toward the bar, Quinn's warm smile welcomed us. "What can I get you ladies? Beer? Tea?" "Tea, please," I requested, grateful for his presence. Quinn's broad shoulders and auburn hair exuded a sense of ease and reassurance. He had been a pillar of support throughout this tumultuous journey. Isabella and Seraphia, seated at the bar, turned their attention toward us. Their expressions shifted from curiosity to concern as they noticed the collar around my neck. "What's that?" Isabella asked, her voice tinged with worry. Taking a deep breath, I shared the truth with my friends, revealing the full extent of my predicament. The weight of my secret lifted as I laid bare the events that had led me to this point. My friends listened intently, their expressions growing increasingly somber. When I finished speaking, Isabella extended her hand, and I handed her the glass shard. She closed her eyes, her magic intertwining with the object as she sought answers. We waited in anticipation, hoping for a breakthrough. Finally, Isabella opened her eyes, disappointment flickering across her face. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't find anything," she confessed. My heart sank, but Mac's suggestion offered a glimmer of hope. Isabella possessed a unique ability to glean information from objects, and her insights could prove invaluable in our quest for answers. Determination surged through me as I considered our next move. "Where is she?" I asked, eager to seek Isabella's guidance. "The Haunted Hound. She had something to drop off with Quinn," Mac replied. The Haunted Hound, a pub and one of the portals to human London, seemed like the perfect place to regroup and enlist Isabella's help. Before we left, I gathered a vial of potions and secured the broken glass, leaving the rest behind. With renewed determination, Mac and I embarked on our journey through town, ultimately reaching the gate that led to The Haunted Hound. Stepping into the ether, we emerged in the back hallway of the pub, greeted by the familiar sounds of conversation and clinking glasses. Making our way toward the bar, Quinn's warm smile welcomed us. "What can I get you ladies? Beer? Tea?" "Tea, please," I requested, grateful for his presence. Quinn's broad shoulders and auburn hair exuded a sense of ease and reassurance. He had been a pillar of support throughout this tumultuous journey. Isabella and Seraphia, seated at the bar, turned their attention toward us. Their expressions shifted from curiosity to concern as they noticed the collar around my neck. "What's that?" Isabella asked, her voice tinged with worry. Taking a deep breath, I shared the truth with my friends, revealing the full extent of my predicament. The weight of my secret lifted as I laid bare the events that had led me to this point. My friends listened intently, their expressions growing increasingly somber. When I finished speaking, Isabella extended her hand, and I handed her the glass shard. She closed her eyes, her magic intertwining with the object as she sought answers. We waited in anticipation, hoping for a breakthrough. Finally, Isabella opened her eyes, disappointment flickering across her face. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't find anything," she confessed. My heart sank, but Mac's suggestion offered a glimmer of hope. Isabella possessed a unique ability to glean information from objects, and her insights could prove invaluable in our quest for answers. Determination surged through me as I considered our next move. "Where is she?" I asked, eager to seek Isabella's guidance. "The Haunted Hound. She had something to drop off with Quinn," Mac replied. The Haunted Hound, a pub and one of the portals to human London, seemed like the perfect place to regroup and enlist Isabella's help. Before we left, I gathered a vial of potions and secured the broken glass, leaving the rest behind. With renewed determination, Mac and I embarked on our journey through town, ultimately reaching the gate that led to The Haunted Hound. Stepping into the ether, we emerged in the back hallway of the pub, greeted by the familiar sounds of conversation and clinking glasses. Making our way toward the bar, Quinn's warm smile welcomed us. "What can I get you ladies? Beer? Tea?" "Tea, please," I requested, grateful for his presence. Quinn's broad shoulders and auburn hair exuded a sense of ease and reassurance. He had been a pillar of support throughout this tumultuous journey. Isabella and Seraphia, seated at the bar, turned their attention toward us. Their expressions shifted from curiosity to concern as they noticed the collar around my neck. "What's that?" Isabella asked, her voice tinged with worry. Taking a deep breath, I shared the truth with my friends, revealing the full extent of my predicament. The weight of my secret lifted as I laid bare the events that had led me to this point. My friends listened intently, their expressions growing increasingly somber. When I finished speaking, Isabella extended her hand, and I handed her the glass shard. She closed her eyes, her magic intertwining with the object as she sought answers. We waited in anticipation, hoping for a breakthrough. Finally, Isabella opened her eyes, disappointment flickering across her face. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't find anything," she confessed. My heart sank, but Mac's suggestion offered a glimmer of hope. Isabella possessed a unique ability to glean information from objects, and her insights could prove invaluable in our quest for answers. Determination surged through me as I considered our next move. "Where is she?" I asked, eager to seek Isabella's guidance. "The Haunted Hound. She had something to drop off with Quinn," Mac replied. The Haunted Hound, a pub and one of the portals to human London, seemed like the perfect place to regroup and enlist Isabella's help. Before we left, I gathered a vial of potions and secured the broken glass, leaving the rest behind. With renewed determination, Mac and I embarked on our journey through town, ultimately reaching the gate that led to The Haunted Hound. Stepping into the ether, we emerged in the back hallway of the pub, greeted by the familiar sounds of conversation and clinking glasses. Making our way toward the bar, Quinn's warm smile welcomed us. "What can I get you ladies? Beer? Tea?" "Tea, please," I requested, grateful for his presence. Quinn's broad shoulders and auburn hair exuded a sense of ease and reassurance. He had been a pillar of support throughout this tumultuous journey. Isabella and Seraphia, seated at the bar, turned their attention toward us. Their expressions shifted from curiosity to concern as they noticed the collar around my neck. "What's that?" Isabella asked, her voice tinged with worry. Taking a deep breath, I shared the truth with my friends, revealing the full extent of my predicament. The weight of my secret lifted as I laid bare the events that had led me to this point. My friends listened intently, their expressions growing increasingly somber. When I finished speaking, Isabella extended her hand, and I handed her the glass shard. She closed her eyes, her magic intertwining with the object as she sought answers. We waited in anticipation, hoping for a breakthrough. Finally, Isabella opened her eyes, disappointment flickering across her face. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't find anything," she confessed. My heart sank, but Mac's suggestion offered a glimmer of hope. Isabella possessed a unique ability to glean information from objects, and her insights could prove invaluable in our quest for answers. Determination surged through me as I considered our next move. "Where is she?" I asked, eager to seek Isabella's guidance. "The Haunted Hound. She had something to drop off with Quinn," Mac replied. The Haunted Hound, a pub and one of the portals to human London, seemed like the perfect place to regroup and enlist Isabella's help. Before we left, I gathered a vial of potions and secured the broken glass, leaving the rest behind. With renewed determination, Mac and I embarked on our journey through town, ultimately reaching the gate that led to The Haunted Hound. Stepping into the ether, we emerged in the back hallway of the pub, greeted by the familiar sounds of conversation and clinking glasses. Making our way toward the bar, Quinn's warm smile welcomed us. "What can I get you ladies? Beer? Tea?" "Tea, please," I requested, grateful for his presence. Quinn's broad shoulders and auburn hair exuded a sense of ease and reassurance. He had been a pillar of support throughout this tumultuous journey. Isabella and Seraphia, seated at the bar, turned their attention toward us. Their expressions shifted from curiosity to concern as they noticed the collar around my neck. "What's that?" Isabella asked, her voice tinged with worry. Taking a deep breath, I shared the truth with my friends, revealing the full extent of my predicament. The weight of my secret lifted as I laid bare the events that had led me to this point. My friends listened intently, their expressions growing increasingly somber. When I finished speaking, Isabella extended her hand, and I handed her the glass shard. She closed her eyes, her magic intertwining with the object as she sought answers. We waited in anticipation, hoping for a breakthrough. Finally, Isabella opened her eyes, disappointment flickering across her face. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't find anything," she confessed. My heart sank, but Mac's suggestion offered a glimmer of hope. Isabella possessed a unique ability to glean information from objects, and her insights could prove invaluable in our quest for answers. Determination surged through me as I considered our next move. "Where is she?" I asked, eager to seek Isabella's guidance. "The Haunted Hound. She had something to drop off with Quinn," Mac replied. The Haunted Hound, a pub and one of the portals to human London, seemed like the perfect place to regroup and enlist Isabella's help. Before we left, I gathered a vial of potions and secured the broken glass
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