As Tarah watched the sun dip below the horizon, she felt a sense of determination wash over her. With the first quarter moon of the month ascending into the sky, she knew that the time had come to begin the ritual. Tarah had been eagerly awaiting the arrival of the first quarter moon, and she was relieved when it appeared just in time.
"It is time," Tarah murmured, her voice steady as she began to chant the spell. Before her, the vial containing an angel's blood, Dana's blood, began to shimmer, forming a thread that slowly wound its way toward Tarah's forehead.
As the thread of Dana's blood made contact with her forehead, Tarah felt a sharp, burning pain shoot through her veins. But she held firm, understanding that this discomfort was a necessary part of her journey towards temporary freedom from Devon's spell.
