The Midnight Queen's POV
The moon hung like a silver eye in the night sky, watching as I placed twelve crystal vials in a perfect circle. Each held the fresh blood of a werewolf—Alpha blood, Beta blood, Omega blood. Power in every drop.
But not Ruby Wolf blood. Not yet.
"Is everything prepared?" I asked, not turning to look at the masked figures standing quietly behind me.
"Yes, my Queen," Isolde, my Black Moon Witch, answered. "The stars are aligned. The boundary between places thins."
I smiled, feeling the weight of ages in the curve of my lips. How long had I waited for this moment? How many failures and false starts?
The chamber deep beneath the Syndicate offices hummed with ancient energy. Black candles cast dancing shadows on walls covered in patterns older than human language. At the middle stood an archway made of stone that seemed to drink in light rather than reflect it—the Echo Gate, a small replica of the Celestial Gate I sought to open.
