"You said there was no other way," he growled.
"There isn't," Nyssa replied, her voice quiet, almost soothing. "Power requires balance. You've taken what wasn't meant for mortal hands, command over a god, a queen, the heart of a pack, the womb of destiny. Now you must give something back."
Gonzalo's fists clenched. "You're a witch, not a healer."
"However," she said, smiling faintly, "you still come to me when gods ignore you."
The silence stretched between them, thick and vile. He wanted to kill her. To end the sick, wrinkled smile that mocked him every time she spoke. But she held the key, to Liora, to the child, to everything he'd built. Ad she knew it.
Nyssa extended a bony hand, her fingers pale and trembling, though her voice was steady as stone. "Come here, Gonzalo. Pay your dues and everything you've worked for remains yours."
