Chapter Seventy-Eight
Avery flushed, rolling her eyes, but the bond hummed with her quiet pleasure.
Lucien turned his gaze to Molly, his smile soft. “You’re radiant tonight. Regal. They won’t know what hit them.”
Molly’s lips curved, violet fairy glowing brighter in her hair.
Kael, sensing the weight of the drive pressing in, launched into a story — something light, something ridiculous from his youth — his wolf’s energy bubbling beneath the surface but channeled into distraction. The laughter that followed was quiet, but real, filling the cloaked limo with warmth.
Outside, the night stretched ahead. The gala awaited. The trap was set.
And together, cloaked in elegance and steel, they moved toward destiny.
The limo eased to a stop, its enchantments fading as the door opened. Avery and her mates stepped out into the night, the air cool and sharp with expectation. They were an hour early, just as planned.
The perimeter was checked first. Warriors moved with quiet precision, their patrols weaving seamlessly into the shadows. Every ward shimmered faintly, every guard post confirmed. Nothing was left to chance.
By the time Avery entered the hall, the first of the “guests” had begun to arrive. The music was soft, a mellow undercurrent that filled the space without overwhelming it. Crystal glasses clinked, laughter rose in polite bursts, and the illusion of a gala shimmered into place.
Avery stood at the head of the hall, where the host would traditionally greet arrivals. Her mates flanked her — Riven to her right, Kael and Lucien to her left — a wall of quiet strength. Molly moved gracefully among the guests, her presence both watchful and warm.
The fairies perched on Avery’s shoulders glowed faintly, their wings twitching as if they, too, felt the tension in the air. Then the link came.
Avery. The warrior’s voice was sharp in her mind. We’ve spotted movement. Shades. They’re heading this way. And… there are people with them. Disguised. Hidden among the shadows.
Avery’s pulse quickened, though her expression remained serene. She lifted her chin, eyes sweeping the hall as if nothing had changed.
Hopefully, the warrior added, this is who we’ve been waiting for.
Her mates felt the shift instantly through the bond. Riven’s hand flexed at his side, Kael’s wolf stirred beneath his skin, and Lucien’s eyes sharpened, calculating.
Avery’s voice was calm, steady, threaded through the link to her circle. Stay ready. They’re coming.
The music played on. Guests mingled, unaware.
And in the shadows beyond the wards, the enemy drew near.
The gala shimmered with light and sound, a glittering illusion of safety. Guests mingled, laughter and conversation weaving through the mellow music. To the untrained eye, Avery’s circle looked scattered — her mates drifting in different directions, each appearing absorbed in polite conversation.
Riven lingered near the bar, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. Kael moved among the warriors, his wolf simmering just beneath the surface. Lucien charmed a cluster of nobles with quiet wit, while Molly drifted gracefully through the crowd, her presence both warm and watchful.
It was exactly the appearance they wanted: divided, distracted, vulnerable.
Avery, meanwhile, found herself intercepted.
The head warrior of the dragon royal family — broad-shouldered, scales faintly shimmering at his temples — approached with a bow. At his side stood the gamma from Kael’s pack, his expression sharp with challenge, and the delta from the King of Werewolves, his stance bristling with confidence.
They drew her into conversation, voices low but insistent.
“The new training techniques,” the delta began, his tone edged with skepticism. “They’re flawed. They need improvement.”
The gamma snorted. “They’re not ready at all. Implementing them now would be reckless.”
The dragon warrior folded his arms, his gaze steady on Avery. “You’ve seen them. You understand them. Explain it. Settle this. Put them in their place.”
Avery arched a brow, her lips curving faintly. She could feel Silver’s amusement buzzing at her shoulder, the fairy’s wings flickering like laughter.
She let the silence stretch just long enough to make them shift uneasily. Then she spoke, her voice calm but carrying.
“The techniques are not flawed. They are evolving. They are designed to push warriors beyond instinct into precision. The delta is right — they can be improved. And the gamma is right — they are not ready for full implementation. But that is the point. Training is never finished. It is a living thing.”
Her gaze swept over them, sharp and unyielding. “You argue as if there is only one answer. There isn’t. The strength of these techniques lies in their adaptability. And if you cannot see that, then perhaps you are not ready to lead those who will use them.”
The dragon warrior’s lips twitched, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. The gamma and delta both flushed, their arguments silenced.
Avery inclined her head, regal and composed. “Now, gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me — I have a gala to host.”
Across the room, her mates caught the flicker of her triumph through the bond. The trap was tightening. The enemy thought they were gaining the upper hand.
But Avery was already three steps ahead.