17. Anouk #3
“Worth it.” His arms wrap around me. I let myself lean into him, just for a moment. Just long enough to feel his heartbeat against my chest, to remember that we survived, that we won.
“Your wolf has excellent timing.”
“My wolf has been wanting to defend you for a very long time. He’s pleased with himself.” Caius’s smile is warm against my temple. “So am I.”
“Ridiculous wolf.”
“Your wolf.”
Across the chamber, Cordelia is being bound with magical restraints, her power suppressed by whatever ancient magic Grandmother Peach wielded. She’s still talking—ranting, really—about the dangers of claimed pairs and the necessity of the Severing.
“You’ll see.” Her voice is ragged but still certain. “When the magic fails. When the pairings destroy everything you’ve built. You’ll understand why we did what we did.”
“She really believes it.” Vera appears beside us, her expression grim. “She thinks she’s the hero of this story.”
“Most villains do.” I straighten, pulling myself back into coven leader mode. “What’s the council’s position?”
“Formally? Horrified shock that one of our own was a murderer and traitor.” Vera’s lips twitch. “Informally? Jasper fainted. Twice. The second time might have been performative. I think he’s hoping it excuses him from making any decisions.”
“Has he chosen a side?”
“The winning one. Same concept, in his mind.” She pauses. “Your allies are solid, Anouk. Even the fence-sitters are leaning your direction now. Attempted murder during a council session tends to clarify positions.”
“How convenient of Cordelia to provide such clarity.”
“She’s always been helpful that way.”
I watch as Cordelia is led away, still protesting, still certain she’s right. Decades of careful planning, of patient manipulation, of absolute conviction—undone in a single morning.
It doesn’t feel like victory. It feels like the beginning of a larger battle, one that won’t end with one Preserver agent in custody.
“There are more of them.” Grandmother Peach materializes at my elbow, because apparently that’s just how she moves now. “Cells throughout the magical world. Cordelia was just one node in a very old network.”
“How many?”
“Difficult to say. They’re careful. Patient. They’ve had centuries to embed themselves in positions of power.” She studies me with those ancient eyes. “But they’re desperate now. More so than I’ve seen in centuries.”
“How do we find them?”
“Carefully. Patiently. With the help of claimed pairs who are willing to risk everything for the truth.” Her gaze softens slightly. “You’ve done well, dear. You and your wolf. Better than I hoped.”
“You hoped we’d expose a Preserver agent and nearly die in the process?”
“I hoped you’d trust each other enough to face what needed facing.
The near-death part was unfortunately necessary.
” She pats my arm with grandmotherly affection that now seems slightly ominous.
“The ritual site beneath the Registry has been dormant for centuries. But the magic is stirring now. The Severing won’t hold much longer—not with pairs like you and your wolf, like Leire and her tiger, like Sakura and her bear. ”
“What happens when it breaks?”
“The world changes.” She gazes toward the damaged enchanted windows, which are now showing what might be actual weather for the first time in centuries. Storm clouds gathering. Lightning in the distance. “For the better, I hope. That’s rather up to you.”
“No pressure.”
“Considerable pressure, actually. But you’ve proven you can handle it.” Her smile is enigmatic. “I’ve been guarding that site for longer than anyone in this room has been alive. Watching. Preparing. Hoping that someone would be stubborn enough to ask the right questions.”
“And we asked the right questions?”
“You asked enough of them. The rest will come.” She pats my arm again. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should probably comfort poor Jasper. The man looks like he’s about to have his third fainting episode.”
She wanders off, pausing to offer comfort to a still-trembling Jasper with all the appearance of a kindly old witch who definitely hasn’t just revealed herself as an immortal guardian of ancient magic.
“She’s terrifying,” Caius observes, having reclaimed his position at my side.
“She brought me cobbler last week.”
“Terrifying in a comforting way, then.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders. “What now?”
I look around the damaged Elder Council Chamber. At the scorch marks on the walls and the cracked stone floor. At my allies and friends picking up the pieces of a confrontation decades in the making. At the future that suddenly looks nothing like I expected.
“Now we figure out what comes next.” I lean into him, letting myself take comfort in his solid presence. “As a team.”
He goes still. “You’re using different words now?”
“What words?”
“‘As a team.’ You’ve spent our entire relationship avoiding phrases like that.”
“We’ve spent three days in an actual relationship.”
“We’ve spent years in denial. Same concept.” His grin is warm, knowing. “But you’re right. As a team.”