"Gonzalo, please stop this madness," Nyssa's voice cracked through the night, echoing against the cold walls of the temple chamber. Her fingers trembled as she gripped the edge of the altar, watching the Alpha trace the ancient sigils with blood and ash.
The air was thick, charged with something unholy. The torches flickered as though the wind itself recoiled from what he was doing. The ritual circle glowed faintly with silver, then blue, then red. The forbidden colors of rebellion against the Moon Goddess.
"I will not stop," Gonzalo said quietly, his voice strained. "If the gods won't save her, I will. I've lost enough, Nyssa."
He didn't look up. His broad shoulders were tense, glistening with sweat, the veins on his arms pulsing as he poured his energy into the markings. Each symbol burned brighter with his words.
"By the moon and the night, by the bond of wolf and mate, I call upon the ancient spirit…"
