Villeneuve turns a page in one of the reference books. "This passage, for instance. You've interpreted it as referring to a siphon, but the original Greek actually translates to 'vessel of channeled power.' Similar, but not identical. The distinction matters for the incantation."
I lean forward, examining the text he indicates. And damn it, he's right. The subtle difference in terminology would completely change the energy flow of the spell.
"And here," he continues, pointing to my ritual diagram. "Rowan branches for the binding circle are correct in principle, but you've specified the common European rowan. For a ritual of this magnitude involving wolf shifters, you would need the American mountain ash variant to stabilize the disparate energies."
"Shit," I mutter.
"Most critically," Villeneuve continues, turning to my grimoire, "your approach assumes a simple energy transfer, but what you're attempting is more complex. You're not just creating a bond from scratch. You're trying to simultaneously break your existing coven bond while establishing a new pack bond. That requires a bridging agent to stabilize the transition."
"What kind of bridging agent?" Rowan asks, his academic interest seemingly overriding his distrust momentarily.
Villeneuve smiles, and something about the expression makes my skin tingle. "Dragon's blood."
The words are a sucker punch. "Dragon's blood," I repeat flatly. "As in, blood from anactualdragon."
"Precisely."
"But that's impossible," I say, sitting up straighter. "Dragons are extinct. No one has seen one in hundreds of years."
"Yeah," Rowan agrees. "My history prof thinks they're a myth and never existed at all."
Villeneuve's eyes darken. "Your history prof is a blowhard," he says under his breath. That's a surprise. He's usually so… buttoned up.
Rowan's eyes narrow. "You're sayingyoucan get dragon's blood."
It's not a question, and Villeneuve doesn't treat it as one. "I can help," he says instead. "I can make the necessary adjustments to your ritual to ensure it's performed safely, and I can provide the final ingredient."
"How?" I ask, not bothering to hide my skepticism.
"I have my sources," he replies, his tone making it clear that's all the explanation we're getting. "But I do have one condition."
Of course he does. Nothing comes without strings attached. "What condition?"
"I need to be present for the ritual," Villeneuve says, setting my grimoire aside. "To ensure it's performed correctly."
Rowan stiffens beside me. "No. No way."
"Then I'm afraid I can't help you." Villeneuve's voice is mild, but there's steel beneath it. "The ritual you're attempting is complex and dangerous. Without proper guidance, the consequences could be severe."
I don't miss his emphasis on the last word, or the calculating look in his eyes. He knows exactly how desperate we are, how close the new moon is. That this is the only option we have if we want to break my bond with Kyle and create a new one with the pack.
"We'll find another way," Rowan says, already rising to his feet.
"Will you?" Villeneuve asks, his gaze fixed on me rather than Rowan. "In the next twelve hours? Before the new moon passes and you're forced to wait another month?" He pauses, then adds, "A month during which your former coven will undoubtedly redouble their efforts to reclaim you?"
He's right, and we all know it. We're out of timeandoptions.
"Fine," I say, ignoring Rowan's groan of protest. "You can attend the ritual."
"Regina—" Rowan begins.
"It's tonight," I continue, cutting him off. "At the Lupe Tau pack house."
Villeneuve's smile widens slightly. "I look forward to it." He fans his hands out over the books I brought. "If you don't mind,I'll keep these while I make the necessary amendments to the ritual."
I feel a twinge of reservation at the thought of being separated from my grimoire, even for a few hours, but I know it's necessary.
"Of course," I say, standing. "Thank you for your help."
