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Rosalie

The doorknob gave way, creaking with disuse. Just when I thought I had hit success, the door refused to swing open.

“Do you really think it would be that easy, White Wolf?” A voice spoke from behind me.

Dropping the brass handle, I spin around on my heels coming face to face with the shrouded figure of one of the priestess’, my heart reaching the top of my throat in surprise.

The Grand Priestess, or at least I presumed that is who was stood there. It was the same other-worldly voice as the one I spoke to outside of the tower. The same monotone, that seem to echo through the space around you and talk to you from a faraway place.

“I had to try.” I gulped back my surprise.

“I would have been more surprised if you had not have tried.” She confessed, understanding clawing through her words. But that didn’t help the unease that I felt around these wiccans.

“This place is built on pure magic. You cannot fool it so easily.” She made no mention of my stupidity, or even try to at
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