The idea came to me during one of Adalind's magical training sessions.
I'd been helping her practice combat applications—testing her telekinesis against my Iron Flesh, pushing her to develop techniques that could work in real fights. The exercises were useful, but they also highlighted her limitations.
"I can feel what I should be able to do." Adalind lowered her hands, frustration visible. "The potential is there. But my magic won't... reach it."
"Hexenbiest power levels are supposed to be fixed." I recalled the Bestiary entries I'd studied. "Determined by bloodline, training, and natural talent."
"Supposed to be." She moved to the window, staring at Portland's lights. "But you've proven abilities can be enhanced. Synthesized. Made into something more than their original form."
The connection clicked.
"You want to try enhancing your Hexenbiest abilities. Using principles from my hybrid synthesis."
"I want to try something." She turned to face me. "Your synthesis combined two abilities into something greater. What if similar principles could strengthen existing Wesen powers?"
[QUERY: HEXENBIEST ABILITY ENHANCEMENT]
[RELEVANT DATA: HYBRID SYNTHESIS PRINCIPLES]
[THEORETICAL COMPATIBILITY: MODERATE]
[WARNING: PROCESS WOULD REQUIRE WESEN-SPECIFIC METHODOLOGY]
[RECOMMENDATION: SEEK SPECIALIZED KNOWLEDGE]
"The principles might transfer. But Wesen biology is different from what I've developed." I considered the problem. "We'd need information I don't have. Hexenbiest-specific enhancement techniques."
"I know someone who might." Adalind's voice was carefully neutral. "My mother."
Catherine Schade was alive. We'd confirmed that during the Kimura crisis, when she'd provided information through channels that shouldn't have existed. Since then, Adalind had maintained minimal contact—necessary exchanges about research questions, nothing personal.
"You think she'll help?"
"She'll help if it benefits her somehow." Adalind moved to her phone. "Catherine doesn't do anything for free. But enhanced Hexenbiest power might interest her enough to share what she knows."
The call lasted three hours.
I couldn't hear Catherine's side of the conversation, but I could read Adalind's reactions—tension, frustration, the careful negotiation of someone navigating a relationship more toxic than any enemy threat.
When she finally hung up, her expression was complex.
"She knows something. An old technique called blood enhancement." Adalind retrieved a notepad, transcribing the conversation from memory. "Hexenbiest power can be augmented by grafting Zauberbiest genetics onto the existing magical foundation."
"Zauberbiest. Male Hexenbiests."
"More or less. Different power signature, different capabilities, but compatible enough for the graft to work." She continued writing. "Catherine tried it herself, years ago. Said it nearly killed her."
"Nearly. But not completely."
"She survived. The enhancement took." Adalind set down the pen. "She's been stronger than most Hexenbiests since then. It's one of the reasons the Royals valued her so highly."
"And you want to try the same process."
"I want to stop being the weakest player at the table." Her voice hardened. "I've spent my entire life being used because I wasn't strong enough to refuse. My mother used me. The Royals used me. Viktor tried to use me." She met my eyes. "This changes that. Makes me strong enough to say no and make it stick."
I understood the motivation—understood it better than she probably realized. The drive to become something more, to acquire capabilities that placed you beyond the reach of those who wanted to control you.
"The risks?"
"Significant. The grafting process puts enormous strain on the body. Catherine's heart stopped twice during her enhancement." Adalind's voice was steady, accepting. "But she survived. And so will I."
"You're sure about this."
"I'm sure." She stood, moving to me. "But I want you to understand—I'm not doing this for you. Not for the Pack. For myself. For the woman I want to become instead of the weapon everyone else has made me."
I could have tried to talk her out of it. Could have cited the dangers, the uncertainties, the possibility of losing her.
Instead, I respected her choice.
"What do you need?"
The research phase consumed the following days. Catherine provided ancient Hexenbiest texts—reluctantly, demanding future considerations that Adalind agreed to without telling me the details. The documents described blood enhancement rituals in terms that mixed biology with magic, practical instruction with symbolic meaning.
"Zauberbiest essence forms the core of the graft." Adalind translated as we worked through the material. "Blood from a male practitioner, willingly given, prepared with specific compounds."
"Renard." The name came immediately. "He's the only Zauberbiest we have access to."
"He doesn't have to know what it's being used for. A blood sample, taken for 'medical purposes.' He's donated before for Pack-related research."
The deception felt wrong, but Adalind was right—Renard's blood was necessary, and explaining the full purpose would create complications we couldn't afford.
"What else?"
"Hexenbiest power focus. That's me—channeling my existing abilities into a form the ritual can reshape." She moved to the next page. "And Grimm blood to bind them."
I'd given her blood before. During the Kimura crisis, when she'd created the poison that had saved my life. That contribution had established something between us—a connection that transcended normal alliance.
"Willingly given."
"It has to be genuine." Her eyes found mine. "No coercion, no obligation. You choosing to share this because you believe in what I'm trying to become."
I took her hand. "I believe in you. Whatever you need."
The ingredient gathering took three days. Renard's blood sample was acquired during a routine medical check—he never questioned why Pack resources included standard health monitoring. The compounds required for preparation came from Rosalee's supplies, some rare enough that they depleted reserves we'd been building for months.
By day fifty-two, everything was ready.
"The ritual requires isolation." Adalind reviewed the final preparations. "Somewhere secure, protected, where the magical energies won't be interrupted."
"I know a place. Mountain property the Pack acquired during the expansion." I'd been holding it for emergencies, but this qualified. "Remote, defensible, completely private."
"And medical support?"
"Rosalee. She's been studying Hexenbiest physiology since you joined us." I met her eyes. "This is dangerous. I want someone there who can intervene if things go wrong."
"You expect things to go wrong."
"I expect you to survive whatever happens. But I'm not leaving anything to chance."
The drive to the mountain took four hours. By the time we arrived, evening was falling, the wilderness location isolated enough that even my enhanced senses detected nothing but wildlife for miles.
Adalind stood at the edge of the ritual space we'd prepared, watching the sunset paint the mountains gold and red.
"Thank you." Her voice was quiet. "For supporting this. For not trying to talk me out of it."
"It's your choice. Your power. Your life." I moved to stand beside her. "All I can do is help you survive the becoming."
"And if I don't survive?"
"Then I'll mourn you. And remember that you died trying to become something more." I took her hand. "But you're going to survive. Because I need you to."
She turned, kissing me with an intensity that carried everything unspoken between us.
Tomorrow, the ritual would begin. Tomorrow, everything would change.
Tonight, we had each other.
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