I exchanged a look with Kieran. Zyphora had always kept to itself, a realm of shifters who rarely involved themselves in our conflicts. Many years ago, certain shifters were hunted for various reasons. Humans, in their desperation, sought to use them as weapons against magical creatures and others like the demons and vampires. Some even captured them for cruel experiments, attempting to harness their abilities whilst still clinging to their own humanity. Something similar to theVampire King, but he wanted to create something stronger than any of us, and he did it in the sickest way.
Darian sat stone-faced; his fists clenched so tightly as he listened to her.
“What do you suggest?” Circe spoke up. “We can’t afford another war like last time.”
Circe, despite her small frame, carried an unmistakable presence. As the head of the Emberthorn Order, she trained the high-level witches and warlocks for battle, and she wore that authority well. Her fiery red hair—half shaved, the other side falling in tight curls—was a striking contrast to the colourful tattoos decorating her skin.
Her phoenix familiar, perched high in the corner of the room, let out a low, rumbling trill, its golden feathers flickering with embers.
Vespera now sat and leaned back in her chair; her eyes were on Darian, who was still as a statue. “Tomorrow night, we strengthen the wards and with any luck, that will keep them out. We are doubling the patrols—more hunters at the borders. I think the King is looking for someone, and I want eyes on anyone new to the realm. I want checks on everyone who lives here, in case somebody is living here unregistered. If you find anyone, bring them to me straight away, and if they refuse,” She smiled cruelly.
“Kill them.”
No one dared argue with her. This was war, and mercy was a luxury we couldn’t afford if the King was starting his experiments again.
My mind wasn’t on any of this; it was on Cherry, my Cherry.
Well, technically not mine. Not yet, anyway. But I was going to change that.
“We keep seeing a woman in our dreams,” Birch spoke up, drawing all eyes to him.
As the head of the Astral Sanctum, he and his seers were tasked with unravelling visions of the future. They are only able to see bits and pieces, never a full picture; no seer has the kind of power to see visions fully, or even change them.
His dark skin gleamed under the lights, and his rounded stomach was evidence of his well-known indulgence in the doughnuts served after these meetings and God knows what else. His white, unseeing eyes also unsettled me. And his snake, Hydra, has skin a bright white with shimmering black stripes and matching eyes.
Vespera studied him. “Anything else?”
Birch shook his head. “No, it’s a blur, can’t tell what she looks like apart from white hair or who she is, just she has a lot of power.” That gained Vesperas' attention.
My foot tapped restlessly against the floor.
White hair.
Cherry has white hair. We need to change that so she can stay with me. I don’t care what the others say; she shouldn’t be out alone in the whispering woods. If they question who she is, I’ll tattoo her myself on the wrist with the branding every witch gets that’s registered.
The dragon, on the other hand, we will cross that bridge when we come to it.
A cold knot of unease twisted in my gut.
“Okay,” Vesperas' tone was cold, maybe a little shaken. “If you or any of your seers see anything else, I want to know immediately.”
Birch gave her a solemn nod.
Then she looked at Kali. The leader of the Deathveil Covenant, the necromancer witches. She had almond-shaped eyes which were a dark grey that swirled, long inky black hair, and lips painted a deep purple colour. Her familiar was a large crow withthe same colour eyes, named Cyrus, and it was perched on her shoulder.
“Kali, if any vampires are killed and require questioning, I want you there. We will need your necromancing magic.”
Shit, she’s mad.
Yes, they can bring people back from the dead, but they never come back normal; they are always a little more crazed, nothing like what they were before dying.
Then her sights were set on us three. “You will patrol the Whispering Woods; Darian will join you once he comes back from our travels. If you have to camp out there, do it. Everyone else, I want house-to-house visits. I don’t care how long it takes—if King Draevens' target is here, we will find them before him.”
I cleared my throat and looked around. The other hunters looked on edge, some a little bored.
“Darian, stay. The rest of you can go.” Chairs scraped against the floor as everyone stood, moving towards the exit. Darian remained seated, glancing up at us as we passed by him.
“Can you keep an eye on the twins for me? Looks like I will be gone for a bit.”
