26. Malachi
MALACHI
Distraction isn’t subtle. It isn’t quiet. And it sure as hell isn’t clean. But it works.
“Positions,” I say, low but sharp, the word carrying through the narrow stretch of street just outside the council district.
The pride moves immediately. No hesitation. No questions. Good.
Because tonight, hesitation gets people hurt. Or worse. Dominic falls into step beside me, rolling his shoulders once like he’s shaking off tension he’s been carrying since this whole thing started.
“You ever notice how your plans keep getting worse?” he mutters.
I don’t look at him.
“You’re still here.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I question that daily.”
Despite everything, I almost smile. Almost.
“Stay sharp,” I say instead. “This won’t go the way we want it to.”
“That’s comforting.”
“It’s accurate.”
We move into position across the perimeter of the council building—spread just enough to look disorganized, just enough to feel like a problem that needs attention.
That’s the point. We’re not sneaking. We’re not hiding. We’re forcing them to look at us.
To react. And while they’re reacting?—
Juniper is going in. The bond is steady and constant. She’s close. Focused. Moving.
“Alright,” Dominic says under his breath. “Showtime.”
I step forward into the open. And I don’t bother pretending.
“Council security!” I call out, voice carrying easily across the street. “We need to talk.”
The guards react immediately. Of course they do. Weapons come up. Postures shift. Attention locks. Perfect.
“Alpha,” one of them says, stepping forward. “This area is restricted?—”
“I’m aware,” I cut in. “That’s why I’m here.”
Tension tightens. Not explosive. Measured. They’re watching. Calculating. Good. That means they’re not panicking yet.
“State your business,” the guard says.
I take another step forward. Slow. Deliberate.
“My business,” I say, “is that something is wrong in my territory.”
“And I’m done pretending you don’t know exactly what that is.”
Silence. Heavy. Then?—
The shift.
It’s subtle at first. A tightening of posture. A change in breath. A flicker in the eyes that doesn’t belong there. My lion rises instantly. Not aggression. Recognition.
“Malachi,” Dominic says quietly beside me.
“I see it.”
Because this?—
This is wrong. The guard’s gaze sharpens. Too sharp. His lips pull back slightly, not quite a snarl. Not quite human either. And then?—
He lunges. No warning. No escalation. Just?—
Attack. Everything explodes into motion.
“Down!” Dominic snaps as another guard turns on one of our own, striking without hesitation.
Chaos detonates. Not a fight. Not yet. Something worse. Because these guards?—
They’re not thinking. They’re not reacting. They’re being driven.
“Control them!” I order, already moving as another attacker comes at me, fast and brutal.
He doesn’t hold back. Doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t care. His fist connects with my shoulder hard enough to snap bone if I let it. I don’t. I catch his arm, twist, slam him into the ground?—
He comes right back up. Of course he does. Because this isn’t instinct. It’s override.
“They’re not pulling punches!” Dominic shouts as he blocks a strike from another shifter, redirecting instead of retaliating.
“Don’t kill them!” I snap. “They’re not in control!”
That’s the line. That’s the difference. And it makes this ten times harder. Another attacker rushes me. Then another. Too coordinated. Too precise. This isn’t random. This is deployment.
“They’re using them,” Dominic growls. “Like soldiers.”
Yes. They are. The realization settles cold and sharp. Cassandra.
She’s already started. This isn’t preparation. This is activation.
“Hold the line!” I command, driving forward instead of back.
Because that’s the move. If we retreat, we lose control. If we push?—
We take it back.
“Dominic!” I call.
“I’ve got it!” he fires back, shifting his stance as he intercepts two attackers at once, controlling instead of crushing.
He’s good at this. Better than most. Holding. Redirecting. Containing. But there are too many. And more are coming.
“They’re pulling from inside,” one of my enforcers shouts.
Of course they are. They’re feeding bodies into the fight. Testing response. Measuring resistance. Good. Let them. Because that means?—
They’re paying attention to us.
And not?—
The bond pulses. Sharp. Focused. Moving downward. Juniper. She’s inside. Deeper. Good.
“Keep them busy!” I order.
“What do you think we’re doing?” Dominic snaps.
I don’t answer. Because I’m already moving. Forward. Through. Breaking the line. An attacker lunges?—
I sidestep, drive my shoulder into his chest, send him sprawling?—
Another grabs for me?—
I rip free, push harder, faster?—
No hesitation now. No restraint beyond what’s necessary. Because I need through. The bond pulls again. Stronger this time. Guiding. Calling. She’s below. Under the building. And something?—
Something is building with her.
“Malachi!” Dominic shouts. “Where the hell are you going?”
“Inside,” I fire back.
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Bad idea!”
“Correct!”
I don’t slow. Don’t stop. Don’t look back. Another guard blocks my path. Eyes wrong.
Magic threaded through him like a leash.
“Move,” I say.
He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. He attacks. I don’t hold back this time. I hit hard. Fast.
Precise. Drop him before he can recover. Not dead. But out. That’s all I can afford.
I clear the last stretch to the entrance. The doors loom ahead. Sealed. Guarded. But the guards are?—
Distracted. Good. I hit the door hard. Magic resists. Old wards. Layered. But not meant to stop me. Just?—
Delay. Not enough. I force it. Push through. The ward cracks under pressure. The door gives. I’m inside. The noise outside dulls instantly. Muted. Distant. But the pressure?—
The magic?—
It’s stronger here. Thicker. Like stepping into something alive. I don’t stop. The bond pulls again. Harder. Urgent. Juniper is moving fast now. Deeper. And something?—
Something down there is responding. I take the stairs two at a time. Descending. Faster.
Deeper. The air shifts. Colder. Heavier. Wrong. This isn’t just a building. It’s a conduit. A hub.
A center point.
And whatever they’re building?—
It’s almost ready. The bond tightens suddenly. Sharp enough to make my breath hitch. Not pain. Not yet. But close.
“Juniper,” I mutter to myself.
She doesn’t answer. Of course she doesn’t. But I feel her. Focused. Fighting. Close. Too close to whatever this is. I push harder. Faster. Down into the dark. Because whatever’s waiting down there?—
Whatever Cassandra has built?—
It ends tonight. One way or another. And I’m not letting her face it alone.
The stairwell seems to narrow the farther I go, the walls closing in like the building itself is trying to choke the path off behind me. My boots hit concrete in a steady, punishing rhythm, each step echoing too loud in the heavy silence.
The deeper I descend, the clearer it becomes?—
This isn’t just infrastructure. It’s ritual space. The air hums with it. Not metaphorically. Not instinctively. Literally hums—low, vibrating, alive with magic that doesn’t belong in this world. It crawls across my skin, presses against my lungs, threads through the bond like a warning bell.
“Damn it,” I mutter, pushing faster.
The bond spikes again. Sharper this time. Urgent. Not fear. Focus under pressure. She’s working. Which means she’s still in control. Which means I still have time. Barely.
The final flight of stairs opens into a corridor that shouldn’t exist beneath a council building. Stone instead of concrete. Old. Worn. Etched with markings that flicker faintly as I pass.
Runes. Not decorative. Active. I don’t slow down to study them. My lion is already pacing, restless, agitated by the wrongness of it all.
This place was built for something. And whatever that something is—it’s awake.
At the end of the corridor, a door stands partially open. Light spills through the gap—not bright, not clean. It pulses. Dim gold threaded with something darker, something unstable.
The bond yanks hard. There. I don’t hesitate. I shove the door open the rest of the way and step through?—
—and everything hits at once.
Heat. Pressure. Magic so dense it feels like walking into a storm mid-strike.
The chamber is massive, carved from stone in a wide circular pit that drops several feet below the entrance. Symbols line the walls, carved deep and glowing faintly, all feeding toward the center where energy spirals upward in a violent, twisting column.
And at the heart of it?—
Juniper. She stands inside the circle, hair whipping around her face, her body bound by energetic ribbons of magic. Light arcs between her fingers even though she can’t raise her hands, threading into the vortex like she’s still trying to redirect it?—
Or contain it.
“Juniper!” I shout.
Her head snaps toward me, eyes locking on mine instantly. Relief flashes there. Brief. Fierce. Then it’s gone, replaced by sharp focus.
“Don’t come any closer!” she calls over the roar of the magic.
Yeah. Not happening. I move down into the pit anyway, but something in my peripheral vision catches my attention and I look to my right.
Cassandra Vale.
Of course.
I keep moving. The moment my foot touches the circle, the pressure doubles and I’m pushed back. My breath catches as the magic slams into me, testing, probing, like it’s deciding whether to accept or reject my presence.
The bond surges in response. Juniper’s eyes widen slightly.
“Malachi—”
“I’m here. You’re not doing this alone.”
“You weren’t supposed to come inside,” she snaps, though there’s no real heat behind it. Just strain. “I’ve got it?—”
“No,” I say flatly. “You don’t.”
Because whatever she’s holding back?—
It’s slipping.
The vortex above us twists harder, darker strands bleeding into the gold light. The runes along the walls flicker erratically, like they’re losing stability.
“This isn’t just a spell,” I say, jaw tightening as I take in the structure of it. “It’s a network.”
“Yes,” she grits out. “A control system. It’s tied to the guards—everyone they’ve already touched. If this finishes?—”
“They own them,” I finish.
“Completely,” Cassandra says smugly behind me.
That tracks.
My gaze shifts to the spiral, where the energy is thickest. There’s a focal point there—something anchoring the whole construct.
“Can you break it?” I ask.
Juniper hesitates. And that’s all the answer I need.
“Not without backlash,” she says. “It’ll hit everyone connected to it. Hard.”
Including the guards upstairs. Including my people. I exhale slowly.
“Then maybe we don’t break it,” I say, thinking out loud as if I actually have time to brainstorm with Cassandra lurking behind me.
Her eyes flick back to mine. “What?”
“We redirect it.”
Understanding sparks instantly.
“The bond,” she breathes.
“Yeah.”
The magic surges around her again, more unstable now. Juniper tries to square her shoulders, shifting her stance as she adjusts whatever slight grip she has on the energy flow.
“This is a terrible idea,” she says.
I almost smirk.
“Yeah,” I reply. “That’s kind of our thing.”
Her eyes finds mine. The bond ignites—bright, fierce, undeniable. It surges outward. Juniper gasps as the energy shifts.
“Now!” I growl.
Together, we push. And the entire chamber trembles in response.