Potions mixed slowly, thick purple liquid swirling in the glass bowl as the scent of burnt sage and iron filled the room. The sorcerer’s hand was steady, his dark skin glistening under the glow of hanging candles, the sleeves of his black robe soaked with herb stains as he crushed another bloodroot into the mix.
Behind him, a gun clicked sharply, pressing cold against the back of his head.
Mia’s finger was steady on the trigger, her nails painted blood red, the muzzle trembling only slightly as she pressed it harder against him. “Move and I’ll blow your f*****g head off,” she hissed, her lips curling.
The sorcerer—Alpha Orion—let out a low, amused chuckle, his dreadlocks falling into his face as he tilted his head, not even flinching. “Do you know you don’t have to put me at gunpoint to
