BATISTA'S POV
We spent six long days in the territory of the Enchanted Glades.
The witches told us the next full moon would rise on the seventh night, and that was when the ritual could be done. Tonight was that night.
Preparations had been going on since morning. I could hear the witches chanting from outside the room, their strange songs mixing with the rustling of leaves and the calls of birds. Sometimes the sound gave me comfort. Sometimes it made my chest tighter with fear.
Eric and I had been kept in a small room, one of the guest chambers in their temple. For six days we slept, woke, and thought in that same space. Six days of silence broken only by whispered conversations, six days of questions with no answers.
We tried to process everything we had been told—about our pack, about this new foe who had already taken everything from us.
