“I never thought I’d hear you equate yourself to a warlock, Logan. I’m humbled, really,” he said playfully, knowing all to well what the wolf’s opinions were on his species. But Dominic was one to break the stereotype, and was too free spirited to be tied down by expectation. The two had similarly wild instincts, though the younger man had no animal spirit to speak of. Watching as the Alpha disappeared for a moment, the warlock could sense that the magic of his pouches was no longer in the man’s possession when he returned. “I hope you trust whoever that was, because magic in the wrong hands can be made into the greatest weapon. I should know.” Lifting the silver blade into the air, he dragged it against the tanned flesh of Logan’s wrist, the blood spilling out over the leaves and the stone. The flame of each candle rose higher as the blood pooled around the stone, sealing his spell. “That’s true, but I can still do things with your blood that will have you back on my doorstep every night for more,” he said with a laugh. The blood and the herbs caught flame, smoke rising from the copper dish with an explosion. Dominic loved flashy magic. When the smoke had cleared, the only thing left on the dish was the stone, black as night with swirls of crimson. “Like this, for instance,” he said, holding it out to the man. “This is a bloodstone. Unlike regular obsidian, it has been cursed to bind to you the souls of any who enter the four corners of the protective space I’ve cast for you. With this stone, you can enact your vengeance on intruders with bodily decomposition and mental torture as you see fit. But I’ve also added a failsafe should someone sneaks through the boundaries, giving you complete control over everyone on your territory to ensure your safety. Now, thank me?”