Chapter 49: Summoned
Chapter 49: Summoned
The echo of William’s words chased me back to my room, where the shadows seemed thicker, the silence more watchful. The Council had summoned me, not requested, not suggested. Summoned. That word didn’t carry curiosity. It carried power, a command. My pulse surged as I opened the wardrobe with a trembling hand, searching for something that made me feel like I still had a choice in any of this. I settled on black. Not for mourning. For control. The dress was fitted and clean, structured enough to feel like armor. I fastened the buttons slowly, grounding myself with each motion. I couldn’t stop remembering the firelight on Sebastian’s face, how close his mouth had been to mine before the world shattered again. No matter how badly I wanted to stay in that moment, reality wouldn’t wait.
A knock broke the stillness. Gabriel.
“I’m dressed,” I said before he opened the door, but he stepped inside anyway, eyes scanning me from head to toe—not with appreciation, but with a soldier’s readiness.
“You’ll do,” he said quietly. But something in his voice cracked, just a little.
“I wasn’t asking for your approval,” I said, not unkindly.
“I know.” He looked away, jaw tense. “I just don’t like the idea of you walking into that room.”
“Neither do I.”
He stepped back, letting me pass without a word, but I felt the heat of his presence behind me all the way to the grand staircase. Downstairs, Sebastian stood near the door in midnight gray. His eyes met mine and softened for just a breath. He didn’t say anything, but his glance at my sleeve, where I now always wore the artifact, hidden and close, was enough. A silent check-in. Are you steady? I nodded once.
William was already waiting by the car, hands clasped behind his back, his expression unreadable. His silence was like a stormcloud, not yet thundering but charged. None of us spoke as we entered the sleek black vehicle waiting to carry us to the Council’s neutral grounds. The drive was long, but not long enough.
I sat between the two brothers, their energy opposites but equally overwhelming. Gabriel vibrated with restrained fury, as if every bump in the road chipped away at his control. Sebastian, in contrast, sat with the rigid grace of someone who had learned long ago that movement gave emotion away. Every mile we traveled tightened the knot in my chest.
I stared out the window, watching forests blur past in the dying light. The landscape darkened as the sun dipped lower, and I realized it mirrored something in me, a slow, inevitable dimming. I wasn’t the same girl who had arrived at the Ashbourne estate weeks ago. And the Council wasn’t summoning her. They wanted this version of me, the girl with tethered magic and fractured memories and an artifact that pulsed like a second heart.
“You don’t have to speak,” Gabriel said abruptly, shattering the silence. “No one can compel you to answer. They’ll try, but—”
“I’ll speak if I choose to,” I cut in softly. “But I won’t be their puppet.”
His hand clenched on his knee, but he nodded. “Good.”
We didn’t speak again until the trees gave way to stone. The Council’s estate loomed ahead like a cathedral of cold judgment. Built on elevated ground and encircled by wrought iron gates, the white stone manor glowed silver under the rising moonlight. Torches burned at intervals along the path, not for light but for ritual. This was no home. It was a temple of power. Guards flanked the steps, their faces blank, their auras sharp. They didn’t address us as we passed. They didn’t need to. Their attention was invasive enough, slithering across my skin like pressure I couldn’t shake. Inside, the air was warmer, but the welcome was colder.
We were led through a grand corridor lined with portraits—vampires in fine clothes, immortalized in oils and secrets. The kind of legacy built on blood and silence. I kept my head high, refusing to flinch beneath the weight of their gazes, even when I felt one of them press harder against the edges of my consciousness. The antechamber was filled with subtle predators. Not all vampires wore hunger on their faces. Some wore smiles.
Council affiliates drifted through the velvet-draped space like smoke. Several glanced at me, whispering behind gilded fans or crystal glasses. Some were subtle. Most weren’t. That’s her. Elira’s echo. The one Cain marked. I didn’t need supernaturally enhanced hearing to know what they were saying. I stood straighter.
Sebastian stepped beside me, not close enough to touch but near enough to anchor me. Gabriel hovered just behind, a silent threat in tailored clothing. William disappeared into a side corridor, likely to speak with the facilitators arranging the meeting. His absence felt intentional. That’s when the shadow moved. A man, young only in body, older in presence, brushed past me, and with a flick of his fingers, something slipped into my hand. I didn’t react. Just tucked it into my sleeve as if adjusting the fabric. Only once I was certain no one watched did I glance down. The note was small. Folded with surgical precision.
I opened it.
Welcome, Eva. I am so glad you came.
—C.
No signature beyond the initial. But I didn’t need one. Cain. The paper warmed in my hand, as if echoing the artifact’s awareness. My breath caught.
“Eva.” Sebastian again. Closer this time. His eyes narrowed, locked on the folded slip I’d just slid away. “What did he send?”
“Nothing,” I lied, too smoothly. “Just more games.”
His jaw flexed, but he didn’t push. “Stay close to me when we enter.”
“Always so sure I need a shield,” I muttered.
His eyes softened at that, voice dropping low enough only I could hear. “No. Just sure I want to be yours.”
Before I could respond, the chamber doors creaked open, gilded with old magic and ancient threat. A vampire in ceremonial robes stood at attention, voice formal and hollow.
“The Council will receive you now.”
I stepped forward, my fingers brushing the edge of the note hidden beneath my sleeve. Cain was watching. The Council was waiting. And I was no longer afraid.