Chapter Seventy-Four
The storm Avery left behind had finally settled into a hum of recovery. The map table was cracked but functional. The scorched computers were being replaced. The noble remained frozen, his entourage still pleading, but no one dared touch him now.
Riven moved with purpose, his thoughts singular. He found Remy and Elena near the council’s side chamber, both deep in discussion with aides. He didn’t interrupt — he simply stepped close, his voice low.
“I need to find her.”
Remy nodded, already reaching for her link. Elena placed a hand on Riven’s arm, her expression soft but firm. “She’ll come back when she’s ready. But she’ll need you when she does.”
Kael and Lucien had thrown themselves into the delegation effort. Scrolls, maps, and diplomatic lists spread across their table as they coordinated transport, security, and messaging for the human realm. Their movements were efficient, their focus sharp — but every so often, Kael’s eyes flicked toward the door, and Lucien’s fingers paused mid-scroll, as if listening for Avery’s return.
Molly stood beside the King of Werewolves, her posture regal, her voice unwavering. She addressed the heads of state with the clarity of someone born into power and tempered by love.
“Yes,” she said, “that was a marvelous show of power. And no — you cannot free the noble. Whatever Avery did, only she can undo.”
Murmurs rose, but she silenced them with a glance.
“She and her mates will fulfill the prophecy. But moving forward, they must be treated with the respect they deserve. They are not pawns. They are the heart of this world’s future.”
She turned, her gaze sweeping the room.
“And if any of you think this can be fixed without unity — without every single one of us doing our part — then you haven’t understood the prophecy at all.”
The room quieted. Not with fear, but with recognition.
They were no longer waiting for Avery to lead them.
They were preparing to follow.
The council chamber had finally steadied into order. Assignments were given, orders dispatched, and the hum of coordinated effort filled the air. Whether it was the Head of the Council — Lord Damaris, the ancient elf who had presided for centuries — or Avery’s mates stepping in to direct, the chaos had been shaped into motion.
But in the quiet of one of the side offices, the heart of Avery’s circle was unraveling.
Riven paced like a caged storm, his jaw tight, his eyes restless. “I can’t feel her,” he muttered, again and again. “She’s shut me out completely.”
Lucien sat at the edge of the table, his fingers drumming against the wood, his usual calm cracking into sharp edges. Kael leaned against the wall, arms crossed, but his wolf was close to the surface, his eyes glowing faintly as if ready to tear through the world to find her.
Molly, though outwardly composed, kept glancing at the door as if Avery might walk through it at any moment.
Remy’s face was drawn, her voice steady but tinged with worry. “Wherever she went, she’s closed herself off from everything and everyone. I can’t sense her. Not even a whisper.”
Elena reached for Mark’s hand, her expression grim. “That’s not like her.”
Mark’s jaw tightened, but he stayed silent, letting the others speak.
Riven finally slammed his hand against the table. “I can’t just sit here. She’s out there, alone, and I—” His voice cracked, the bond’s absence gnawing at him.
Remy stepped forward, her tone firm. “Then we don’t sit. We act. If she’s closed herself off, we’ll find another way. A magic training session. Together. If you channel your energies as one, you may be able to break through her walls. Or at least find the thread that leads to her.”
The room stilled.
Lucien’s eyes sharpened. “A resonance exercise. If we align our bond energy, it might amplify enough to reach her.”
Kael nodded, his wolf pushing forward. “It’s worth the risk. She’s our center. Without her…” He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to.
Molly exhaled slowly, then straightened. “Then let’s do it. Now. Before the distance grows any wider.”
Riven’s restless pacing stopped. His eyes burned with determination. “We’ll bring her back. Whatever it takes.”
The grove shimmered with a stillness that was alive, every leaf and petal humming with unseen magic. Avery sat cross-legged on the moss, her breath finally slowing, her heart easing as the fairies flitted around her in gentle spirals of light.
When the air shifted, she knew before she looked up.
Titania, Queen of the Fairies, stepped into the clearing. Her presence was both delicate and immense, like moonlight woven into flesh. She lowered herself gracefully to sit beside Avery, her eyes kind, her smile knowing.
“You are seen here,” Titania said softly. “You are accepted.”
For the first time since the council chamber, Avery felt it — not expectation, not pressure, but belonging.
She spoke then, her voice low but steady, telling Titania and the gathered fairies of the prophecy, of the shades, of the gloom rising on the horizon. She confessed her fears — of losing her mates, of being used as a shield, of failing the unity she was meant to bring.
The fairies listened, their wings whispering like wind through glass.
When she finished, Titania inclined her head. “We feel it too. The whispers of shadow. The tremors of what is coming. You are not wrong to fear it.”
Then her voice deepened, carrying the weight of a vow. “You have our loyalty. Our fealty. We will help you and your mates uncover the plot. We will work with you to bring the peace and unity you are meant to weave.”
Avery’s shoulders loosened, the tight coil of her chest finally unwinding. Speaking the words aloud, being heard without judgment, had calmed her in a way nothing else had.
Titania reached out, brushing her fingers lightly over Avery’s hand. “Release the grove from your warding spell. Your mates and family are trying to find you. Do not shut them out — they are your strength.”