Chapter 138. The Ritual

Magnus

The room was prepared meticulously. In the center, a large pentagon was drawn on the floor with white chalk and intricate symbols etched at each point. Five black candles stood at the vertices, their flames flickering eerily. The air was thick with the scent of burning incense, a mix of sage and rosemary that filled the room with a heady, calming aroma.

Meredith stood at the center of the pentagon, her presence commanding and serene. She wore a long, dark cloak; the hood pulled back to reveal her sharp, focused eyes. She gave me another nod, her eyes conveying both reassurance and urgency. We had no time to waste.

The first time I saw Meredith, she seemed out of place amidst the crowd of werewolves. Her hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and her eyes—an ageless blue—seemed to see straight through me. Despite her delicate appearance, she emanated a quiet power that made even the most formidable members of our pack take notice.

Meredith, a wit