[ Blackmoon Territories - The day after the Ritual Binding ]
Lyla sat perfectly still in the center of a glowing circle of salt and powdered silver.
Her back was straight, lips slightly parted, eyelids lowered in a serene composure. Her hands rested gently on her knees, her hair pinned back tightly so not even a strand dared to stir.
A dozen witches and seers in Blackmoon hoodies stood all around her, chanting. Their hands swayed in fluid motions as soft smoke curled from bowls of crushed moonroot and firepetal.
A small crimson flame flickered in front of Lyla's chest…measuring aura…strength…vitality…life.
And possible…conception.
Standing in the shadows, leaning against an obsidian pillar, was Roanoke ...clasping his hands in front of him tightly. His gaze didn't shift once from Lyla, though his fingers twitched from time to time, betraying his tension.
