Chapter Ninety
The council chamber was heavy with murmurs and grumbling. Leaders of realms and council members filed in slowly, their expressions sour.
“A girl summons us?” one muttered under his breath.
“Unheard of,” another scoffed.
“She interrupts our meeting and demands answers?”
But when Avery strode into the chamber, her power radiating like heat, the words faltered. The sheer force rolling off her silenced even the boldest tongues.
They had been meeting about her — debating what to tell her, how much to reveal. Shannon had given them little, and the attack had left no trail. They had nothing. And now, faced with Avery’s fury, none of them wanted to admit it.
One leader, still puffed with indignation, opened his mouth to sneer about being summoned by a girl.
Before he could speak, Riven rushed forward, Lucien supported between him and Kael, Molly close at their side. They gathered around Avery, forming a wall of unity.
Riven’s voice cut through the chamber, sharp and unyielding, “Before you speak another word, you need to hear what was whispered to Lucien as he lay dying. Londrell will not back down. He called unity of the races an abomination. He said the only way he would consider peace is if Avery gave up her role… and mated with him.”
The chamber erupted. Gasps, curses, growls. Outrage rippled through the room like fire.
Council Member, “Blasphemy!”
Realm Leader, “He dares demand such a thing?”
Another Leader, “This is war talk. Nothing less.”
Even the healers and guards growled low, their fury breaking through their discipline.
Silver and Violet shrieked from above, their wings blazing red, their cries echoing through the chamber until every leader flinched at the sound.
Mark was the first to cut through the noise, his voice booming.
Mark, “Enough! You heard the words. Londrell has declared himself. He will not accept peace. He will not accept unity. He demands submission.”
Auron stepped forward, his eyes blazing.
Auron, “And he will never have it. My daughter will not bow. She will not be bartered. If Londrell wants war, then war he shall have.”
The King of Werewolves, Avery’s uncle, growled low, his voice carrying like thunder.
Uncle, “He insults us all. Not just Avery. Not just her mates. He insults every realm, every council, every bond we have forged. If he believes unity is an abomination, then let him choke on the strength of it.”
The chamber fell into stunned silence.
Avery stood at the center, her mates flanking her, her power still radiating like fire. She hadn’t spoken yet, but her silence was louder than any roar.
The leaders shifted uneasily, their earlier grumbling forgotten. They had come perturbed, dismissive. Now, they stood in the presence of something they could not ignore.
The storm was here.
And Avery was its heart.
The chamber was chaos — shouts, growls, murmurs of outrage swirling like a storm. Leaders argued, families cursed Londrell’s ultimatum, warriors bristled at the insult.
But Avery did not join the noise.
She stood still, her eyes narrowed, watching.
Her suspicions had been gnawing at her since the moment she arrived on campus. Three council members, always pushing back, always undermining, always questioning her place. And now, in the midst of the uproar, she saw them lean together, whispering.
Her bond flared. She linked Violet, her voice sharp and precise.
“Have Ruby and Pearl listen. Now. I want to know what they’re saying.”
The fairies darted into place, wings shimmering as they slipped unseen into the shadows near the three.
Moments later, the whispers reached Avery’s ears through the bond.
“…she’s too strong. Londrell was right. If she falls, the unity falls. We must keep the council divided…”
“…the attack was only the beginning. She cannot be allowed to lead…”
The sound tore through her like fire.
A roar ripped from Avery’s throat, shaking the chamber walls. Her body shimmered, her magic exploding outward, and in a heartbeat she shifted — fur bursting forth, her form expanding until she towered over them all.
The largest wolf anyone had ever seen stood in the center of the council chamber, her eyes blazing gold, her power radiating like a storm.
Gasps filled the room. Warriors stumbled back. Even her uncle, the King of Werewolves, froze in awe.
With a snarl, Avery lunged.
Her massive jaws snapped, her claws raked the floor, and in one fluid motion she seized the three traitors. She hurled them into the center of the chamber, their bodies crashing against the stone with a sickening thud.
Silence fell.
Every leader, every council member, every family stood frozen, staring at the wolf who had just exposed betrayal in their midst.
The three writhed on the floor, their faces pale, their whispers silenced.
Avery’s growl rumbled through the chamber, low and deadly.
The fairies shrieked in fury, their wings blazing crimson, circling above like a storm of fireflies turned to flame.
Mark’s voice broke the silence, sharp and commanding.
Mark: “Traitors. In our council. In our halls. You dare plot against my daughter?”
Auron’s eyes blazed as he stepped forward.
Auron: “You will answer for this. Every word, every whisper. You will tell us how deep this rot goes.”
Her uncle’s growl shook the chamber.
Uncle: “And you will beg for mercy before the end.”
But Avery did not shift back.
She stood over the traitors, her massive wolf form radiating power, her golden eyes locked on them.
The council had demanded answers.
Now, they would get them.