One hour and forty-seven minutes later
Victoria stood at the gates of the Blackwood estate with twelve witches and warlocks at her back.
It was not the full strength of what the Morvaine coven used to be, that was lost forever, burned to ash fifteen years ago. But it was enough.
Magdalene stood to her right, ancient and powerful, her white hair braided with crystals that hummed with stored magic. Henrik was to her left, carrying the ritual tools needed to sever bonds. The other ten were younger witches and warlocks who had served the coven or owed Victoria their lives or their power.
Together they represented a force strong enough to break through whatever defenses the Blackwoods could muster.
Victoria looked at the estate and felt her rage crystallize.
The grounds were destroyed. Scorch marks everywhere. Bodies of dark creatures dissolving into black smoke. The front doors completely gone.
Evidence of the attack.
