Chapter 1 #2
Inside, Rene sat at the head of the long table.
He looked paler than usual, even for him—his skin stretched thinner across his high cheekbones, shadows smudged beneath his pale-blue eyes.
There was a fragile tension in his posture, as though he were holding himself upright through sheer will.
Raven was beside him, her hand resting gently on his arm, her dark-violet gaze full of quiet concern and a stubborn kind of defiance on his behalf.
Across from them, Ursula and Lazar sat side by side, her posture regal and as cold as carved marble, his expression unreadable save for the gleam of amusement that never seemed to leave him. His fingers tapped once, twice, against the table, as if all of this bored him more than it worried him.
William occupied the seat next to them, his broad shoulders stiff beneath his jacket, his piercing green eyes flicking to us the moment we entered. Culgan a couple seats to his right.
“Welcome home,” Rene said, his voice low but steady. Despite the fatigue, there was authority in every syllable. “You’ve both been missed.”
Con inclined his head respectfully. “It’s good to be back.”
Rene’s gaze softened briefly, then shifted to me. “Cassara.”
“Rene.” I gave a short nod, forcing my voice to remain level.
He gestured to the empty chairs beside Raven. “Please—sit. We have much to discuss.”
As I took my seat, the undercurrent of power in the room deepened, like a current tugging beneath the surface.
Ursula’s silver eyes found mine, cool and cutting. Lazar’s mouth curved, as if he knew secrets the rest of us didn’t and they amused him more than they should.
Ursula’s cool, commanding voice sliced through the tension that had settled over the ballroom like smoke. “Did you retrieve the piece?”
Her tone was deceptively even, but her gaze—silver and knowing—pinned me, dissecting every flicker of hesitation before I could speak. The rustle of silk as she crossed one leg over the other was the only sound in the room.
I straightened, folding my hands on the table to hide the tremor I didn’t want anyone—least of all Con—to notice. “We did,” I said, meeting her stare head-on. “But it wasn’t easy. Cerise was there.”
At the mention of the witch’s name, Raven’s head snapped up, her violet eyes widening. “Cerise?”
“Yes,” I replied. “She’s stronger than last time. The air around her twisted, as if she were channeling Valerian directly.” The memory crawled under my skin—the sound of Cerise’s laughter, brittle and echoing, her eyes alight with silver flame as the world warped around her.
Lazar chuckled softly, the sound low and knowing. “How charmingly predictable,” he drawled, as if an obsessed witch serving a volatile warlock were nothing more than a tedious inevitability.
Ursula shot him a glare intense enough to draw blood. “And you let her go?”
I stiffened. “We didn’t have much of a choice. The fight drew attention we couldn’t afford. The last thing we needed was a public scene.”
Con’s voice was calm but edged with steel. “Cassara made the right call. We secured the artifact. Cerise retreated.”
I reached into my jacket and set the small, rune-etched case on the table. The air shifted as the warding seals pulsed—an echo of the ancient magic locked within. Raven leaned forward, curiosity and apprehension flickering across her face, but Rene’s attention seemed elsewhere.
At first, I thought he was just tired. His hand trembled slightly on the armrest, his gaze losing focus. Then his head dipped.
“Rene?” Raven’s voice broke, soft and frightened.
He slumped forward, the movement sudden and wrong. His chair screeched against the marble floor as she caught him before he hit the table.
“Raven—” I started, pushing to my feet, but she was already moving.
“Cass!” Her eyes flashed white with power. “Infuse him. Now!”
The command hit like a jolt. I was at Rene’s side before I’d fully processed it, pressing my palm to his chest. His skin was cold—far too cold for a creature who burned with ancient fire.
I reached inward, pulling on my magic, the blood-born energy that had been unsteady since Valerian’s interference.
It surged under my skin, crackling through my veins like lightning seeking ground.
Raven placed her hand over mine, her magic a cool, steady counterpoint. “Breathe it into him,” she guided. “Not too much—just enough to stabilize.”
Power spilled from me in a pulse of light that rippled through the room.
It hit Rene’s core, his chest arching as if his body had forgotten how to hold life and was relearning it in an instant.
For a heartbeat, the entire mansion seemed to hold its breath.
The chandeliers flickered, shadows jerking against the walls in uneasy motions.
Then Rene gasped, air shuddering back into his lungs. His eyes opened—brighter, clearer, but haunted, as if something inside him had walked too close to an edge and seen what waited below.
Raven exhaled shakily, her hand gripping his. “You’re all right,” she murmured, though her voice cracked on the last word.
I staggered back, my own energy frayed, the room tilting for a moment before it steadied. “What the hell is going on?”
Raven turned to me, her face pale but resolute. “We’re running out of time.”
Lazar’s lips curled in something that might have been a smile but felt more like contempt. “So the king bleeds after all,” he said softly, sounding more unimpressed than alarmed, as if a dying ruler were an inconvenience to his plans rather than a crisis for our world.
Ursula’s hand clenched around the armrest of her chair hard enough that the ancient wood creaked.
“Enough, Lazar,” she hissed, her composure fraying at the edges.
Her face had gone ashen, her fear stark in the flickering light.
Her gaze cut to me, urgent. “You cannot keep him alive with borrowed magic forever, Cassara,” she said, her voice lower, the concern beneath her authority briefly exposed.
“We are already asking too much of you, and of him.”
William stood abruptly, his voice carrying authority that brooked no argument. “This meeting is adjourned.”
Raven nodded once, already helping Rene to his feet. “I’ll take him to his chambers.”
Con and I stepped aside as she guided him toward the doors, her magic a shimmer around them both.
When they disappeared down the corridor, silence closed in again.
The others filtered out one by one—Ursula without another word, Lazar with that same infuriating, dismissive smirk, and William last, his expression grim and calculating.
When the doors finally shut, I sank into the nearest chair, the weight of what had just happened pressing down hard on my shoulders.
Con stood beside me, arms crossed, gaze fixed on the empty doorway. “We have to find the next piece.”
I rubbed my temples, my pulse still uneven. “You think that’ll help him?”
“I think it’s the only thing that can.” His tone was low, deliberate. “The clan’s beginning to notice his decline.”
I looked up quickly. “How do you know that?”
He hesitated for a moment, just long enough to tell me he’d debated whether to tell me the truth. “Because Edward asked me to support him.”
I stared. “Support him? As in—?”
“As in he’s preparing for the possibility that Rene won’t be here when the election begins.”
The words hit like a physical blow.