Morwen's eyes flashed. "You think you're better than us? You're criminals. Murderers. Monsters wearing civilized masks."
"We're honest about what we are." Selene stepped forward, her emerald eyes blazing. "You hide behind your coven's respectability while poisoning everything you touch. You're not better. You're just better at lying."
Detective Webb snorted. "Enough posturing. You have something I want. Information. Shipping routes. The names of your suppliers." He pulled a badge from his pocket—a prop, I realized, a symbol of authority he'd long since corrupted. "Cooperate, and maybe I'll forget I ever heard about your little operation."
Lucien's growl filled the warehouse. "You'll forget everything when I'm done with you."
"Threats." Webb's smile was oily. "How original."
I stepped forward before I could stop myself. Every eye in the warehouse fixed on me—the human, the stray, the woman who had no business being here. But I was done hiding. Done letting others fight my battles.
"You want to know about our operation?" I met Webb's gaze squarely. "Here's what you need to know: we're legitimate. Every shipment documented, every transaction reported, every tax paid. You can dig through our records for years and you won't find anything illegal." I smiled, sweet and sharp. "Because we're very, very good at what we do."
Webb's expression flickered—uncertainty, quickly masked. "We'll see what a forensic accountant has to say about that."
"Oh, they won't find anything either." Azrael's voice was soft, almost gentle. "But they will find quite a lot when they look intoyourfinances, Detective. The offshore accounts. The payments from the Blackburn Coven. The evidence of evidence tampering in three ongoing investigations." His golden eyes glittered. "By morning, you'll be facing charges. By next week, you'll be in prison. And by next month, no one will remember your name."
Webb's face went pale. "You're bluffing."
"Am I?"
The detective's hand twitched toward his weapon—a standard-issue pistol, useless against most of us—but before he could draw, Lucien moved. One moment he was at my side; the next, he had Webb pinned against the wall, his claws extended and pressed to the detective's throat.
"Go ahead," Lucien growled. "Give me a reason."
"Lucien." Darius's voice cut through the tension. "Not yet."
Lucien snarled but stepped back, leaving Webb trembling and pale against the wall. The detective's bravado hadevaporated, replaced by the dawning realization that he was in over his head—surrounded by creatures who could kill him without breaking a sweat, and who were only restrained by their own code of conduct.
Morwen watched the exchange with cold calculation. "You think you've won? This is just one battle. The coven has resources you can't imagine. Allies you don't know exist. We'll destroy your little shop, your reputation, everything you've built. And when we're done, we'll destroyyou."
"No." I stepped forward, my own magic surging beneath my skin—fire and growth, destruction and creation, the dual affinities Selene had helped me nurture. "You won't."
I raised my hand, and flames erupted from my palm—not the wild, uncontrolled fire of my early attempts, but something precise. Somethingmine. The flames danced across my fingers, casting dancing shadows across Morwen's face.
"You tried to destroy my family," I said, my voice steady. "You hexed our shipments. Threatened our suppliers. Conspired with a corrupt human to tear down everything we've built." I stepped closer, and Morwen flinched—just slightly, but I saw it. "You made a mistake. You thought we were weak because we built something beautiful. Somethinggood. But we're not weak. We're the strongest we've ever been. Because we have something you don't."
"And what's that?" Morwen sneered, but her voice wavered.
"Each other."
I released the flames. They didn't consume her—didn't burn her alive, though part of me wanted them to. Instead, they surrounded her, a cage of fire that trapped her without touching. She screamed—not in pain, but in fury—and her enforcers surged forward.
They never reached her.
Lucien tore through them like a force of nature, his claws and fangs rending flesh and bone. Azrael's shadows coiled around two more, lifting them off their feet and slamming them into the concrete floor. Selene's magic flared—vines erupting from the cracks in the floor, wrapping around limbs and throats, squeezing until the struggling stopped. And Darius moved through the chaos like a ghost, his blade finding hearts and throats with surgical precision.
Within minutes, the enforcers were dead or incapacitated. Webb had fled—but Azrael's network would find him, and the evidence of his corruption would destroy him more thoroughly than any physical violence.
Only Morwen remained, trapped in my cage of fire.
"Please," she gasped, her composure finally cracking. "Please, I'll do anything. I'll tell you everything about the coven—their plans, their allies, their weaknesses. Just let me live."
Darius stepped forward, his silver eyes cold. "You threatened our family. Our home. There's no mercy for that."
"Wait." I held up my hand, and he paused. "She has information we need. Let her talk. Let her give us everything. And then—" I met Morwen's terrified gaze. "—she leaves. Goes far away. Never comes back. If she does, we kill her."
Darius studied me for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Agreed."
