I kiss her once more, quick this time, before picking up. “Silas Thorn.”
“Where are you?” My sister’s voice is clipped—her version of polite.
“Out.”
“Of course you are. There’s an emergency at the Council.”
“Define emergency.”
“Come here, Silas. Now.”
The line clicks dead before I can answer.
Kayla stares at me over the rim of her glass. “That sounded fun.”
“Family dinner,” I lie easily, standing. “Helena’s not one for small talk.”
She watches me grab my coat, dark brows knitting. “You promised you’d stay tonight.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“You always say that.”
I pause long enough to press a kiss to her temple. “Because it’s always true. I promise I will put you through the fucking mattress, babe.I just need to handle this. I’ll be right back.”
Her sigh follows me out the door.
The Alpha Council building looms over the river like a temple—glass, steel, and arrogance. The runes etched into the foundation glow faintly under the rain, channeling energy from the city’s ley lines. Inside, the marble floors gleam. No one makes noise here unless they’re supposed to.
Helena’s office is at the top, all black stone and polished chrome. She’s standing by the window when I walk in, the skyline reflected in the glass behind her. She doesn’t turn.
“You took your time,” she says.
“I was on a date.” I close the door, unbutton my coat, and step closer. “This had better be worth it.”
“It is.” She faces me then, immaculate as ever—sharp suit, platinum hair pinned back, smile like a blade.
There’s another man seated by her desk, one of the Council’s bureaucratic lapdogs—Marcus Devereaux, head of logistics and owner of TrueBond, the Council’s matchmaking app. His cufflinks glint as he adjusts his tie.
“Silas,” he greets, rising. “Good to see you.”
“Marcus.” I nod once. “You’re looking… well-funded.”
Helena doesn’t bother hiding her eye roll. “Enough. Sit.”
I don’t. “Tell me what this is about.”
She crosses her arms. “The Rift.”
That gets my attention. “What about it?”
“There was a surge tonight in Willowbrook. The ley lines destabilized. Several wards collapsed. Damon Wilder’s beentrying to contain the fallout, but he’s barely keeping the barriers intact.”
I exhale slowly. “The sheriff? He’s Circle class, isn’t he?”
“Alpha circle warlock,” Marcus confirms. “Mostly protective wards, ritual work, community anchors. He’s competent, but this is beyond him.”
“And you want me to fix it.”
