Chapter 36 A SUPERNATURAL
Chapter 36 A SUPERNATURAL
CHAPTER 36. A SUPERNATURAL
IRIS'S POV
For some strange reason that defies everything I know about reality, the heavy, acoustic barrier of the glass chamber begins to fail. The muffled, watery mumbles of the people outside the cylinder slowly dissolve, turning crisper and sharper until they cut straight through the transparent walls. I can hear every syllable they are uttering. It is as if my senses are suddenly heightening, expanding in ways I have never experienced in my entire life. I am not just hearing their words; I am feeling their frequency. I can feel the thick wave of anger radiating off the Council, the rising frustration of the Elders, and the sharp, defiant irritation rolling off Ciara. They don’t want me here. That truth is glaring and absolute. Yet, despite their ancient magic and their absolute decrees, I am still standing in this tube. The reason is a complete mystery to me, an unknown anomaly humming in my blood.
"Don't tell me you are slowly beginning to lose your edge, Ciara!" Elder Cyphros’s voice is a booming, savage roar that echoes throughout the subterranean cavern. The sheer force of his dangerous rage strikes the glass cylinder, sending a physical vibration rattling against my spine.
"You can't blame me for something I know absolutely nothing about, okay?" Ciara snaps back, her sharp voice slicing through his anger.
Through the transparent barrier, I watch Kaelen break away from the rest of the pack. He steps slowly, deliberately toward the glass, completely ignoring the chaotic rambling and the bitter arguments of the Council. He is staring straight at me. At first, a deep, bewildered frown pinches his forehead, his eyes wide with a staggering sense of disbelief. But as the seconds tick by and I remain rooted in the chamber, a brilliant, breathtaking smile breaks across his face. He ignores the Elders entirely, positioning his massive frame directly beside the glass tube.
"Step away from there, Kaelen!" Cyphros commands, but the Alpha doesn't even flinch.
"She is supposed to be performing the incantation again," another Elder barks.
"I am not doing it anymore, okay?" Ciara shouts, her voice rising to match the volume of the wolves. "Applying any more magical pressure to this cylinder because of her again is going to shatter the entire thing into a million pieces. And you all know exactly how many centuries it took your packs to forge this glass."
"I don't care about the glass!" Elder Cyphros bellows, his face twisting into a grotesque mask of fury. "Do you want the Moon Goddess to look down upon us in shame? Do you want the Supernatural Goddess to unleash a brutal torment upon this Council for defying one of her longest-reigning decrees? The law is absolute: she is a human, and she has to return to her realm today!"
"Yes, I hear the words you are shouting, Cyphros," Ciara counters, stepping in front of the altar with her arms folded tightly across her chest. "But she isn't going anywhere. The spell is dead. Nothing is happening. We’ve driven the raw current through the tube twice now, and one more surge will cause a catastrophic rupture. Do you truly want that to happen in your sacred hall?"
She glares at him, her chest heaving with exhaustion. I can see the deep, violet irises of her eyes glowing with a vibrant, dangerous intensity—a clear sign that she is burning through her reservoir of power just to keep her volatile rage under control. But as I watch her, my heightened senses pick up on something hidden deep within her essence. It isn't just about the failed spell or the stress of the interrogation. She is tired. She is utterly exhausted by these dominant species controlling her life, and she is sick of being treated like a prized prisoner in this dark place.
The revelation floods my mind with a terrifying clarity. Only God knows how many centuries they have kept her locked away in these dungeons. I remember the Elders mentioning that they were at war with the witches, yet Ciara is the only one of her kind in this entire residence. They aren't treating her like an enemy; they are keeping her as a captive asset, using her ancient magic for their own malicious reasons because they know what a witch is truly capable of achieving.
I shudder, my breath hitching as a cold wave of panic hits me.
Why am I thinking like this? I don't even know why all this forbidden knowledge is flooding into my head so fast, or why I am suddenly understanding the hidden dynamics of this supernatural hellscape with a swiftness that makes me deeply, profoundly worried. I hug my arms tightly around my chest, trembling within the glass.
"What is going on?" I whisper softly to the empty space of the tube.
Kaelen is standing directly in front of me now. He places his large palm flat against the cool surface of the glass, looking down at me with a smile that is thick with awe. "I knew it," he murmurs, his voice bleeding through the barrier. "I knew from the moment I held you that you weren't ordinary."
I frown slightly, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm as he addresses me with such soft, unyielding certainty.
"It’s so obvious now," Kaelen says, his voice rising as he turns his torso to face the row of stunned Elders. He catches the sharp, judgmental glares of the Council and the squinted, analytical stare of Ciara, but he doesn't back down. "She is absolutely one of us!"
The Elders glare at him as if he has completely lost his mind, their lips curling into sneers of disgust.
"Aren't you all seeing the reality of this?" Kaelen challenges, his arms gesturing grandly toward my chamber. "The truth is standing right in front of your faces! The spell isn't working because she is not a human! She is a supernatural! I mean, look at her. Look at the depth of her eyes. Look at the color of her crimson hair. Every single feature about her body proves that she is otherworldly! Come on, aren't you guys actually seeing what I’m saying? Just because she has lived in the human realm for ages and has no concept of our existence doesn't mean she was born there. It doesn't mean she originated from their dirt."
Elder Cyphros looks at the young Alpha with a heavy, dangerous scowl, his jaw set in a hard line. None of the other Elders say a word; they stand like stone statues, the silence in the cavern turning thick and suffocating. Even Ciara keeps quiet. Her vibrant violet eyes move slowly from Kaelen to the old wolves, and then back to Kaelen again. She is waiting. She hangs on the silence like a predator, waiting for the decision of the people who have kept her in chains, knowing that whatever word leaves their mouths will spark the next violent argument.
I swallow hard, the knot in my throat tightening as I watch Elder Cyphros slowly approach the chamber. He halts just inches from the glass, staring at me through the transparent barrier with a cold, clinical detachment. He is observing me like I am a bizarre specimen on display in a museum, a freak of nature that shouldn't exist.
"Bring her out," he commands, his voice dropping to a deep, absolute register that sends a chill down my spine.
My heart begins to beat so fast I can feel the pulse throbbing in my temples. "No," I whisper, stepping back until my spine hits the rear wall of the cylinder.
Before I can brace myself, a squad of broad-shouldered bodyguards approaches from all corners of the room. They press their heavy hands against the mechanism, and with a loud, hydraulic hiss, the glass door slides open, exposing me to the cold air of the cavern. I take a slow, trembling step out onto the obsidian floor.
At that exact millisecond, a violent surge of energy explodes from my center.
I don't even feel the power leave my body, but the results are instantaneous. Every single bodyguard is suddenly launched through the air in different directions, thrown away from me as if a massive, invisible shockwave had blasted through the space. One guard crashes violently against the far stone wall, the impact echoing like a cracking whip. Another is thrown backward into a towering stone pillar, letting out a pained groan as he drops to his knees. A third bodyguard slides across the cavern floor, his heavy boots scraping against the rough ground as he desperately tries to use his hands to support his weight, leaving a trail of dust in his wake.
The Elders gasp, their faces draining of color as they snap their heads to look at me. The absolute shock in the room is palpable. Even Ciara is frozen, staring at my hands with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"What's happening?" I cry out, my voice shaking as I look down at my own palms. I am trembling from head to toe, completely terrified of my own skin.
"How did you do that?" Elder Cyphros fires back, his red eyes wide as he takes a cautious step backward, his hand instinctively moving toward his jaw.
"Do what?" I ask, my vision blurring with tears of pure confusion. I am looking around the room, begging someone to give me an answer that makes sense.
Ciara breaks her silence. She steps away from the altar, her dark cloak trailing behind her as she walks slowly toward me, her piercing violet eyes scanning every inch of my posture. She is observing the subtle current still vibrating through the air around my skin.
"She’s manifesting," the witch whispers, her voice remarkably soft, devoid of its previous sarcasm.
I frown deeply, my chest heaving as I try to process the word. "Manifesting? What the hell are you talking about? Manifesting what?"
Ciara doesn't answer me. Instead, she turns her head to look directly into the magma-like eyes of Elder Cyphros, her chin lifting with a grim, undeniable certainty.
"She is a supernatural," the witch declares.
I blink my eyelids rapidly, a sudden, dizzying wave of vertigo washing over me. The room feels like it’s tilting, and for a terrifying second, I feel like my brain is about to liquidize and pour straight out of my ears.
"I’m sorry..." I whisper, my voice fading to a broken breath as I stare at them. "What?"