Chapter 25
drecken
. . .
The Supernatural Headquarters’ chamber was as extravagant as ever.
The marble with gold veins spiraled upward into vaulted arches where fae orbs floated, shining with their perfect soft-white glow.
They illuminated every inch of the grand table where the Council gathered.
Each chair was carved from a different supernatural’s native resource.
It was symbolic, performative, and easily overlooked by those who didn’t know.
Even after so long on the council, the air still felt thick with stress every meeting.
The treaty with the humans had been shaken badly with the recent developments, and the Human Council wouldn’t acknowledge it.
I took my seat, lab coat whispering against the chair.
My magic moved through the room like a second aura, tasting every spell woven into the meeting room.
There were fae enchantments, regular enchantments, and wards all over this chamber.
Not only that, but there were spells to keep the representatives from killing each other in rare cases that happened at least once every other decade.
“Let’s begin,” Rowan growled. Steam rolled from his nostrils. Draconic species couldn’t hide when they were irritated, and Rowan was no exception to that.
Kaelith, our cultural liaison, leaned forward. “The peace treaty has failed to maintain its purpose,” she said regrettably. “Human incursions are up sixty-three percent. They are testing boundaries they once signed a treaty to respect.”
“They’re not just testing them,” muttered Maeve, our banshee representative. “They’re crossing them.” Her eyes glowed faintly blue. “We can’t ignore the abductions. This isn’t curiosity or ignorance on the humans’ end. It’s strategy.”
“Strategy,” Ted asked Maeve, lips bloodless as he flickered in and out of form. “Then, let us treat them as strategists, not children. Our council has been too indulgent to the humans as of late.” His form flickered at the end of the table, his body warping between solid and incorporeal.
“Indulgent?” Aurelia, our communication specialist, asked. “You call restraint indulgence? The supernaturals are targets. If the treaty is revoked, blood will run in all territories.”
Rowan’s fingers drummed the table. “Who said anything about revoking it?”
Gideon, the werewolf rep, exhaled sharply through his teeth. “I suggest we do it,” he said, not quite meeting anyone’s gaze. “Maybe it’s what they need to remember why they feared us in the first place.”
That silenced everyone for a moment.
Revoking the treaty was a dangerous sentiment, especially coming from Gideon. The werewolf representative was also the security advisor, and he should’ve known it wasn’t a good plan. Yet, to hear him say that told me he was tired of the humans as much as I was.
The chamber fractured into voices after everyone mulled his suggestion over. Half the room argued for subtlety, and half argued for retaliation. Wards vibrated faintly in the air as the tempers of the representatives spiked.
I stayed silent, watching them make a mess of the already-intense political climate in our territories.
Every argument circled the same fear that the humans had learned too much about us, too quickly. The humans had spies in our territories, but we had spies in theirs.
I felt Rune’s bond stir faintly in my chest, a small, soft pulse amid the chaos in the chamber of the meeting room. She was calm somewhere, studying with Dimitri, perhaps.
Dimitri was a serious stickler for knowledge, and I respected that.
The faint brush of Rune’s magical energy steadied me. It reminded me of my new purpose, which was to make sure my mate lived in a world that didn’t burn itself to ash.
When the shouting began to fade, Sabine rose from her seat.
“We have verified evidence of at least one human infiltration within Apex Elite Academy,” she said, her voice slicing through, silencing the others.
“They’re posing as a supernatural in one of the eight houses at the academy.
There was another, but we only found out after his death.
The remaining infiltrator has been identified and remains under observation. ”
The word ‘academy’ twisted in my chest since that was where my mate was right now.
I forced my jaw still, but magic sparked all over my form.
“The academy?” Norman, the icedrake rep and our scientific researcher head, asked, rubbing his jaw. “That’s where you have the next generation of agents trained. How in the Fates did a human get past the screening wards?”
Sabine sighed. “Human technology infused with supernatural DNA so they can pass off as supernaturals, and my guess would be help from within, too.”
The ripples of alarm were immediate, but Norman’s eyes twinkled.
“The science of supernatural DNA being passed off on a human is a breakthrough I was unaware of. Injecting our DNA into a human usually kills them immediately.”
“That’s because it’s a device they’re putting inside their bodies,” I told him. “I dissected the human, and he had a device full of a gargoyle’s magical essence and blood fused to his sternum. Even our magic and blood can’t save a human from a simple allergy, though.”
Norman’s gaze widened in shock. “You must show me.”
“The human’s still in HQ’s lab now, if you—”
Norman stood abruptly and looked to Rowan. “May I?”
Rowan motioned for his dismissal, and he bolted out of the room.
“Why are we keeping a human spy alive?” Gideon asked.
Sabine sat back down composed, her green hair sticking up in many directions.
Her voice was measured, but her aura radiated her anger.
“She’sss only alive because she may lead us to the othersss.
If we eliminate her too soon, the humansss will simply replace her with another agent that we cannot track.
I have our agentsss watching her every move. ”
Murmurs broke out across the table.
Rowan’s massive form leaned forward. “And what of the phoenix?”
“What phoenix?” Gideon asked.
“Need to know,” Sabine hissed.
“We’re council members,” he stated, oblivious to the insanity that already happened behind his back.
“Drecken?” Sabine’s dull green eyes met mine.
I snapped my fingers, my magic settling into everyone as a hex to not speak about what we discuss here. There was already a ward over the room that did that, but Sabine liked covering the bases. And since she was now my mother-by-mating, gross, I figured I’d oblige.
“Koa Ashbourne is operating as a double agent for us. The humansss believe him to be their spy. He is oursss. His cover remains intact for now. His intelligence has revealed details I hadn’t anticipated.
Objectives, names, methods of data transfer.
His position isss…delicate. But his loyalty is not in question. ”
“Ashbourne? His father’s locked up in Apex Penitentiary because of colluding with humans,” muttered Gideon. “Are you sure we can trust him?”
“Yesss.” Sabine’s tone was final. “He believes his father was framed by the humans, whether we believe it or not. That belief keeps him loyal to usss.”
I let the smallest thread of magic unwind in my palm, rolling it like smoke between my fingers.
The discussion turned to the glaringly obvious decline of matebonds.
“They decline by twenty percent year after year,” I said at last. My voice was calm and measured, but the weight of my research into this matter pressed on every word. “Across every territory. Fated bonds are failing to manifest for months, sometimes years.”
“It reeks of fae tampering,” snarled Dante, the vampire representative. His fangs flashed.
Aurelia sighed. “The fae are not to blame because they cannot meddle in the threads of the soul. The Fates weave as they will. If the bonds do not snap, perhaps the threads have been cut by the Fates themselves.”
A silence fell over us. No one wanted to admit what it would mean if the Fates themselves had decided to starve us of mates. What would that mean for our future if the Fates decided not to just delay matebonds but to do away with them? Was that even possible?
“Keep record of the statistics,” Rowan ordered, breaking the silence. “Patterns emerge over centuries, not decades. Our duty is to track the trends, and, Drecken.” His gaze shifted toward me. “Congratulations on your matebond.”
A ripple of amusement threaded through the grim tension.
I inclined my head at my old friend. “Thank you.”
Dante smirked faintly. “To think, you’ve lived through two centuries and still managed to land a fated. Impressive.”
“I prefer the word miracle,” I replied dryly.
That earned a few chuckles, aside from Sabine.
The agenda wound down, and the resolutions were as shallow as ever. It always ended this way. With nothing solved, only cataloged for the next meeting.
Rowan hesitated by the wayfaer crystal before sighing. “Good luck.”
“Luck?” I frowned as he stepped on it and disappeared, then, I felt the weight of a gaze.
Sabine.
She had sat at the far end of the chamber, arms crossed, green hair wild as ever, and her aura sharp enough to taste. Her emotions switched so fast I couldn’t get a read on her.
We were alone in the meeting room, and the silence settled like dust.
“You’re not here to attempt to kill me, right?”
“I would never hurt my daughter that way. Besides, I know I’m no match for you.
” Her lips tightened, then curved in a humorless smile.
“You ever notice how this room never changes? We’ve remodeled three times, replaced half the Council, fought battles and a war, but this chamber—” she lifted a hand “—always looks the same to me.”
I followed her gaze to the marble arch. It was the same one I’d seen a century ago when Rowan brought me in.
“The room remembers everything,” I said. “Stone keeps the echoes better than our brains do.”
She hummed. “You sound like a poet, not a warlock.”
“Hardly,” I chuckled dryly.
That earned me a faint smile, which…made me uneasy.