The moon was high when Sienna slipped into Sage's hut.
She had to know. The map, the herbs, the almost-kiss — it all pointed to something bigger than her.
Sage looked up from her cluttered workbench, her eyes wise and tired.
"I thought you might come," she said softly.
Sienna held out the torn map. "Is this yours?"
Sage shook her head. "No. But it's time you learn the truth. Sit."
⸻
On the table, Sage spread out an old, cracked book — its leather cover brittle with age.
She flipped to a page marked with a black feather.
There, inked in red, was a drawing of a jagged black stone with ancient symbols carved into it. At the bottom, a name was scratched: Stone of False Fate.
Sienna leaned closer.
"This stone," Sage whispered, "is cursed by dark witches long ago. It doesn't curse people — it curses destinies."
Sienna frowned. "I don't understand."
Sage pointed. "They used it to plant fake prophecies. False mate bonds. Curses that divide, confuse, and weaken powerful lines."
Her voice grew heavy.
"I believe your bloodline was targeted. And Daemon's prophecy — it didn't come from the Moon Goddess. It came from whoever used that stone."
Sienna's breath caught. "You mean… my bond with Daemon… it's real?"
Sage met her eyes. "That's what you have to find out. But you're not poison, child. You were marked."
The door slammed open.
Both women jumped.
It was Daemon — furious.
"You left the training field alone," he growled. "Anything could've happened."
"I was safe," Sienna replied, lifting her chin.
His eyes darted to the open book. "What is that?"
Sage closed it gently. "The truth you were never meant to see."
Daemon didn't speak.
But in his silence, Sienna saw it — the doubt in his eyes was cracking.
The curse wasn't hers.
It had been fed to them.
Outside, hidden in the dark, Victor stood with the black bottle.
He poured it into the training water barrels — the herbs designed to numb the wolf, cloud the mind, weaken the bond.
"This time," he whispered, "she won't survive the truth."