Page 12 of The Immortal’s Mark

Her eyes drift toward him. “A request?”

“I’d like to request a meeting with your strongest descendants.”

Her brows lift. “Why?”

“To ask if they will assist in our rescue efforts.”

Thane’s growl fills the room again.

Charmian doesn’t react. Her gaze remains locked on Des. “You heard your brother. It’s likely some of my descendants’ loyalties have been compromised.”

“Then call only the ones you trust without question,” he replies. “I’ve already enlisted half-breed trackers, but they’ll need magical support. A witch or warlock can extend a were-beast’s natural senses while they search for Bella.”

Charmian’s lips press into a line. “Most of my offspring want nothing to do with this conflict.”

“Good,” Thane cuts in. “I don’t trust them anyway. Tell them to stay far away from my home.”

Des’s glare cuts to his brother. “You can keep your mistrust, but I won’t let it limit us. Bella is my family, too.”

“She’s my wife.” Thane shoves back his chair so hard it screeches against the floor.

He stands, braced on his hands, towering over the table like he could break it in half.

“She’s our sister.” Lome rises as well. “We all want her back. Don’t be an idiot.”

“I will not sit by⁠—”

“Enough,” Eshe’s voice cuts through the chaos, calm but commanding. She stands, spine straight, eyes steady. “All of you. That’s enough.”

She turns to Charmian, her voice respectful but firm. “Please ask your most trustworthy offspring to meet with us. If they decline, fine. But at least give them the choice.”

Charmian studies her, her features shifting into an expression that might be approving. Then she nods. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The air shifts, as if everyone in the room lets out a collective sigh.

Thane falls back into his chair, staring at the tabletop with unfocused, pained eyes.

Lome exhales, rubbing his temples.

Eshe sits back down, graceful but drained.

Des remains motionless, unreadable. The weight of leadership sits heavily on his shoulders, but he bears it quietly, like always.

My heart aches for all of them.

And for Bella… wherever she is.

My gut twists, and I taste bile.

I hate that I can’t do more to help.

My magic is weak and difficult to control.

The only thing I’m good at is visions, but they come and go when they want, never when I need them most.

If I could control my visions, maybe I could find Bella. Maybe I could discover where Adir is hiding or what his next move is.

Maybe I could actually have a say in my future and the role I play in this Immortal conflict…