Circe stood before the glowing crystal orb in her chamber in the North. The morning light filtered through the tall, arched windows, but the air remained cold and heavy. Her fingers hovered over the orb’s smooth surface, and with a whispered chant, it shimmered to life.
Inside the orb, the image of Solomon slowly formed. He stood tall, but his silver hair and tired eyes showed the weight he carried. As Kieran’s father and the one currently watching over the Shadow Claw pack, he had taken on many responsibilities in his son’s absence. His brow furrowed as he leaned forward.
“Grand Witch Circe?”
Renee stood beside Circe, her arms crossed. She was silent at first, letting Circe take the lead.
“Yes,” Circe said. “We need to talk. Urgently.”
Solomon straightened. “Is it about Kieran?”
Cir
