Shadow of the Wolf

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Christopher stared down at his preparations, mentally checking and rechecking each and every one. All of the runes were aligned properly within the circle, spelling out his intent. The incense was burning sweetly, its cinnamon scent filling the air and making him think of home. The small fire he’d created in his cauldron burned merrily. Colored candles were lit and placed in the proper alignment. A rose for love and an iris for wisdom, stems braided through an emerald ring sacred to Venus and used for this purpose for generations, waited for him to begin the chant. Every item held a piece of the spell. The words would merely cement it, bringing the pieces of his magical puzzle together into one cohesive picture that would send his call out into the world.

Everything was as it should be. Not one single thing was out of place, or forgotten.

He took a deep breath, mentally placing himself in the frame of mind necessary to cast the spell. This was it, one of the defining moments of his life. His ancestor’s spell would determine the course of the rest of his life. He closed his eyes, concentrating on his perfect mate. She should be of an older lineage, someone born from power, with magic to complement his own. She should be petite. Christopher had a fondness for women who were smaller than he was. Hair and eye color didn’t matter to him, though he had a preference for blondes. And she needed to be able to accept the one thing that set him apart from most other wizards. That, more than anything else, was important.

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