Chapter Six #2
Brielle blinked hard, her fingers tightening on the mug. “That sounds ... like me. Angry when I need to be. Protective when I shouldn’t be. I guess some things carry over.”
“More than you think,” Willow said softly. “Your soul remembers, even if your mind doesn’t.”
The silence stretched, full of past lives and unspoken vows.
Isaac cleared his throat, dragging them back to the present.
“We need to talk about the Council. Marcus wasn’t alone.
Five men swore themselves to this cause—wiping shifters out, binding them forever.
He’s gone, but the others aren’t. And somewhere out there is the Druid Stone. ”
“That is a weird name,” Brielle murmured. “What exactly is it?”
Saffron answered. “An ancient talisman. It was created to bind or unbind curses of great weight. In the wrong hands, it can amplify or reverse the curse. In the wrong hands, it would mean the end of us. We were able to put a stop in Marcus’s curse, but it is still there.
We need all four of us to end it. In ours, it would be a weapon we could wield against our enemies, a way to end that curse and turn their own power back on them.
But it only holds so much strength, and none of us know how long it would last. That uncertainty makes it as dangerous as it is valuable.
” She glanced around the table, her voice dropping.
“But the real problem is finding it. None of us know where it’s hidden, or who might already be hunting for it.
For all we know, it could be buried in a vault, lost in ruins, or already passed through too many hands. ”
Willow frowned. “So, we don’t just have to fight men who’ve lived a dozen lives—we have to find a stone that may not even want to be found.”
Isaac’s jaw tightened. The weight of her words settled over them like a shroud, and for a long moment no one spoke. Then Jacob leaned forward, breaking the silence. “So how do we track down men who have lived countless lives and a stone that’s been hidden for centuries?”
“Carefully,” Isaac said. “We start with what we know. The Council members will have anchored themselves close to power. Wealth. Influence. Somewhere they can pull strings. If we can find their modern identities, we’ll find the Stone.”
Nolan’s mouth twisted into a grin. “And when we do, we end them. All of them.”
Brielle sat back, eyes wide but resolute. “So, that’s my new life? Tea, toast, and plotting to take down ancient warlocks?”
Jacob barked a laugh. “You get used to it. We all did.”
Willow grinned. “You’ll fit right in.”
Isaac watched Brielle closely. She still buzzed with nervous energy, her foot tapping against the leg of her chair. “You’ve got more questions,” he said gently. “Spit them out.”
She hesitated, then asked, “What happens if we don’t find the stone? What if the Council gets to it first?”
The question made everyone stiffen. Saffron’s voice was steady when she answered. “If they find it, they could bring Marcus’s curse back in full force. Every shifter alive could burn. The line would end. The only thing that would stand in their way would be us.”
Brielle paled. “So, it really is on us.”
“On us,” Ursula confirmed. “But you’re not alone. None of us are.”
Brielle nodded slowly, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite the fear in her eyes. “Then I guess I’d better learn fast.”
Plans began forming. They spoke of reaching out to old coven contacts, tracing bloodlines of influential families, and using Ursula’s library to find references to the Stone’s last known location.
Willow suggested divination, while Nolan pushed for hitting the financial and political world hard to flush out Council members hiding in plain sight.
The ideas tangled, overlapping, but slowly a picture formed—fragile, tentative, but a plan, nonetheless.
Brielle finally pushed her mug aside, leaning forward. “What happens to me in this plan? Do I just—train? Wait to be useful?”
Isaac shook his head. “You’re already useful. The Council will sense your awakening. That makes you both a target and a weapon. We need to train you, so you don’t set the curtains on fire every time you sneeze.”
Nolan smirked. “Or burn your ex’s name into the carpet.”
Brielle shot him a glare, but a grin tugged at her lips. “Tempting.”
Ursula squeezed her hand. “We’ll build your control. Your power is raw, but strong. It will grow fast.”
The conversation deepened. They mapped out possibilities—watching political players, infiltrating corporations with shifter ties, setting wards to detect dark magic.
Jacob offered to reach out to his old contacts in the packs.
Even Liam, usually the quietest, swore that they would fight shoulder to shoulder, whatever it took.
As strategies stacked, Brielle interrupted again, her voice softer. “And what if I fail?”
Isaac leaned forward, his voice firm. “You won’t. And even if you stumble, we’ll be there to catch you. That’s what it means to be part of this circle.”
The reassurance steadied her. Her shoulders relaxed, and for the first time, Isaac saw a spark in her eyes that wasn’t fear but resolve.
By the time the candles burned low, and the tea had gone cold, they had a plan.
Fragile, perhaps, but a beginning. Isaac looked around the table at the faces of his family—old and new—and felt the weight of two centuries shift.
For the first time in lifetimes, they weren’t scattered pieces of a broken bond.
They were together and they would hunt the Council, track the Stone, and end this war.
Together.
****
The study smelled of old leather and smoke. Maps were spread across the oak desk, pins marking half a dozen sites. His hand hovered over one, the Druid Stone drawing closer with each report. He could feel it—the hum of old power stirring like a heartbeat beneath the ground.
The phone buzzed. He answered with a single word. “Report.”
A low, male voice crackled back. “The woman I had been watching—she’s gone to them. Reconnected with the witches. As you suspected, she is reincarnated from the brat who defied you and I two hundred years ago.”
The antagonist’s jaw tightened. His eyes narrowed on the pin. “You should have ended her when you had the chance.”
The caller gave a cruel laugh. “I’ll bathe in her blood yet. She won’t escape me this time.”
His lips curved into something darker than a smile. “See that you do. The Stone is nearly within reach. Once it’s ours, their little circle won’t stand a chance.”
He ended the call, leaning back in his chair, the maps and pins like a game board beneath his hands. “What would those four witches think,” he murmured, “if they knew how close they were to it already?”