In the end, they decided to run.

Michael was still worried about Nagy, and staying to make a fuss would do them no good.

Nagy, somewhat recovered from the blood she had just drunk, turned into mist and flowed through the dark night.

An owl followed her silently.

Michael knew some magic, as did Lucian, they had learned it from old grimoires kept in the pack and from their wanderings around the world.

In fact, Michael was more versatile and knew many more spells because he had to rely on them all the time, without his inner wolf to help him.

Only the Ancient of the werewolves could learn some of the witches' magic.

So they wandered through the mountains and came to Michael's hidden castle.

- At least it was not in vain, I have the date and time of the next auction-she said, brushing the cold dew from her clothes.

The night's journey had brought her temperature down a little.

- Do you always go to places like this? - Michael asked as if he didn't want to sound jealous as he poured himsel