Chapter Seventy-Two
Avery unfolded the message with careful fingers, her heart already pounding. Remy leaned in beside her, reading over her shoulder as Elena’s silence pressed heavy around them.
Mark had been called to the council chambers urgently that morning. He’d sent the message moments ago.
Their house — the one Avery had grown up in — had been burned.
The shades were attacking. Not just random targets, but the colonies Avery’s family had helped build — sanctuaries for supernatural beings in the human realm. Places of safety. Places of hope.
Now under siege.
Panic was rising. The council needed them. All of them.
Avery’s breath caught. Her fingers tightened around the paper. The warmth of the morning, the laughter, the teasing — it all felt like a distant echo now.
Remy placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “We’ll move fast.”
Elena finally spoke, her voice low and strained. “Mark said the attacks are coordinated. They’re targeting the places that matter most. The ones tied to Avery’s name.”
Auron stepped forward, already pulling out his phone. “We’ll gather the teams. The council chambers will be briefed. Avery, you’ll need to speak.”
Riven and Kael appeared in the doorway, still damp from their showers, their expressions shifting instantly as they saw Elena’s face and the message in Avery’s hands.
Lucien and Molly followed, the mood in the room changing in an instant.
Avery looked up, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. “We leave now. But when we get there… they’ll know we’re not just reacting. We’re ready.”
Her mates gathered around her, the bond between them pulsing with renewed strength. Whatever came next, they would face it together.
The dishes were forgotten. The morning clutter remained. But none of it mattered.
Avery stood at the center of her living room, her mates and family gathered close. With a pulse of power and precision, she transported them all — not just herself, but her entire core — to the main chamber of the Council.
The shift was instant.
They landed in a whirlwind of voices and movement. The great hall buzzed with urgency: updates shouted across the room, orders relayed between runners, roll calls echoing from the far corners. The scent of ink, parchment, and adrenaline hung thick in the air.
Avery didn’t hesitate.
She moved through the chaos like a blade through water — sharp, fluid, unstoppable. Her gaze locked on the head council member, then swept to the kings, queens, and nobility of the territories. Her posture was pure command, her presence undeniable.
She was no longer just the girl who didn’t want to leave the bubble. She was the prophecy’s pulse, the warrior heart of a fractured world.
Her mates flanked her, silent but steady. Riven to her right, Kael and Lucien behind, Molly just off her left shoulder. They didn’t speak — they didn’t need to. Their movements matched hers, their energy synced. They were a unit now, forged in fire and forgiveness.
As Avery approached the central dais, the crowd parted instinctively. Nobles bowed their heads. Council members straightened. Even the guards shifted, sensing the shift in power.
She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to.
She was here.
And the tide was about to turn.
Avery strode through the council chamber like a storm wrapped in silk. Her mates flanked her, silent and steady, their presence reinforcing her authority with every step.
The nobles and heads of state turned as she approached, some bowing, others stiffening at her lack of protocol. She didn’t offer greetings. She didn’t wait for ceremony.
She stopped in front of the gathered leaders, her gaze sweeping across them like a blade. “Have you had any luck locating the person or people controlling the shades?”
A few nobles bristled, feathers metaphorically ruffled by her bluntness. One cleared his throat, clearly preparing a diplomatic deflection.
But before he could speak, a low chuckle cut through the tension.
Auron’s brother — the King of Werewolves — stepped forward, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “You’re just like your father,” he said. “When there’s chaos, there’s no time for banter and placating.”
Avery didn’t smile, but her eyes flicked toward him with a flicker of respect.
He gestured for her to follow. “Come. I’ll show you what we’ve found.”
He led her and her mates down a side corridor into one of the smaller war rooms — a space humming with quiet urgency.
Ten people were spread across the room, poring over ancient scrolls, flipping through thick tomes, monitoring glowing computer screens, and manipulating an interactive map table that pulsed with magical overlays.
The King moved to the map, tapping a cluster of red-lit zones. “We haven’t narrowed down the who yet. But we’re closing in on the where. These attacks aren’t random. They’re coordinated. And they’re circling something.”
Avery stepped closer, eyes scanning the data. “A center point?”
“Possibly,” he said. “We think they’re protecting something. Or someone.”
Lucien leaned in, his gaze sharp. “Or drawing us toward it.”
Kael’s wolf stirred beneath his skin. “Either way, it’s a trap or a clue.”
Avery nodded slowly. “Then we spring it carefully. And we make sure we’re the ones watching from the shadows this time.”