Sabrina's POV
The dim light of the library seemed to press in around me as I sat in silence, the heavy tome on the Shadow Mark still resting on the table. Victor's parting words echoed in my mind, and for a fleeting moment, doubt crept into my thoughts.
You can't afford doubt, Sabrina.
Shaking off the momentary weakness, I flipped the book open once more, my fingers trailing over the faded ink of the ancient text. The Shadow Mark wasn't just a curse—it was a weapon. A weapon capable of turning the tide in my favor.
Fiona's strength was rooted in her wolf, Snow. Take that away, and she was nothing but a mortal woman—a leader without her teeth, a Luna without her bond. The thought brought a smirk to my lips.
I traced the arcane runes drawn across the page, their intricate shapes twisting like vines. The ritual was complex, requiring rare ingredients and an unshakable will. But the rewards? They were worth the cost.
