Lysander paced around the room, his heart though cold and unfeeling, was racing with anxiety. Mia was gone and every moment felt painful.
"Why didn't I leave? Why didn't I stay when she asked me to? I promised to protect her but I failed." He cursed himself.
Across the room, Morg sat on the couch with a crystal ball in front of her, her brow furrowed in concentration. The ball shimmered with a swirling mist. Her fingers moved on the surface.
"I can't feel her presence," she said, frustration creeping in her voice as she dropped her hands to her side. "It's like another spell is countering mine."
"What do you mean another spell is countering yours? What type of spell?"
Lysander stopped pacing, a wave of dread washed over him.
Before Morg could say anything, Alaric run into the house.
"Lysander, there's a full moon outside." He said, panic in his voice.
