Eighty Nine

Eighty Nine
The council chamber was cold and silent, save for the flicker of lanterns and the shuffle of robes as the members took their seats. Lucien leaned back in his chair, his eyes sharp, calculating every detail, a predator in repose. Beside him, Thorne, the wolf king, shifted his weight, the faint growl of his frustration vibrating through the stone floor.

“We need to act,” Thorne said, voice deep and urgent. “The attacks, the chaos in the city… we cannot hold the streets any longer. Summon Morwen from her prison. She may be the only one who can help us fix this. Ezra isn't here.”

Lira, seated opposite them, crossed her arms, her expression sharp as a blade. “She isn’t coming out. And for the record, Ezra isn’t here because you all got rid of him. You set this mess in motion. Do not make it my problem to fix your mistakes.”

Thorne’s ears twitched, his golden eyes narrowing. “Are you going to watch us all die then? The city, your people?”

Lira’s laugh was cold, bitter. “You think I don’t care about my people? I care, yes… but I will not drag a dangerous witch out of prison because you’re too afraid to face your own failures. I’ve spent enough time cleaning up after this council’s mistakes.”

Lucien’s smile was thin, dangerous. He leaned forward, fingers steepled. “You claim to love him,” he said, his tone venomous. “And yet you warm your bed with different men, flaunt your power, and sit here judging us. Stop pretending, Queen. You do not have the luxury of morality while our city bleeds.”

Lira’s eyes flared. “Stop kidding yourself, Lucien. I make my choices because I am the queen. Not because I answer to you, or anyone else in this council. Morwen stays locked up, and Ezra’s absence is on your heads, not mine.”

Thorne growled, leaning forward. “Do you understand what happens if you continue this? If you refuse to cooperate?”

Lira’s gaze sharpened, her lips curling. “Do you think I’m afraid of consequences? You’ve had centuries to teach me fear. I don’t. I survive, I rule, and I make decisions that keep this city alive. If that means you don’t like it… too bad.”

Lucien’s eyes glittered, a predator sensing challenge. “You may survive, Ashblood, but remember…refusing us won’t end well. The council does not bend to whims, even yours. We are the law, the power, the balance. Cross us, and there will be retribution.”

Lira leaned back, unmoved, letting the tension hang like a knife in the air. “Then let me remind you,” she said quietly, “you killed Ezra. You drove him away. You brought chaos into your own halls. And now you want to bend me, the woman standing above you all, to clean up your failures. You will not get Morwen. You will get Ezra back. And if that scares you… good. Let it scare you. It’s the only thing that might make you remember who made you fear the night in the first place.”

Silence fell over the chamber. Lucien’s grin faltered slightly, but only for a moment. Thorne’s jaw tightened, claws flexing in his hands. No one dared interrupt Lira further; the raw power and fury in her eyes left them wary.

For once, it was not a council ruling over the city…. it was the queen, unyielding, untouchable, and untamed. And they all knew it.

The council chamber was thick with tension, the air crackling as Lira stood before the gathered elders, her eyes sharp and unyielding. Lucien leaned back, smirk twisting his face like he was enjoying every second of her discomfort, while Thorne’s ears twitched, frustration making his posture rigid.

“I’ll summon Morwen,” Lira said finally, her voice firm. “But only because it’s necessary. And let me be clear….I don’t trust her, and I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it because the city is at stake.”

A hush fell over the council, their surprise almost palpable. Lucien’s smirk faltered for a moment, and Thorne’s growl rumbled low in his chest.

Lira raised her hands, beginning the intricate chant, her voice steady and commanding. Shadows flickered along the walls as the air thickened with energy. From the prison deep beneath the city, a swirl of black smoke coalesced into a familiar, sharp figure.

Morwen stepped through the veil of shadow, her eyes gleaming with cunning and amusement. “Well, well,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery. “The queen finally calls. And for what, I wonder?”

“You know why,” Lira said coldly. “The Siphon is attacking the city. Lives are being drained. The council is weak..they can’t handle it. We need you.”

Morwen’s gaze flicked across the room, resting on the council with a disdainful tilt of her head. “I only do this for one reason,” she said, voice low and dangerous. “The Siphon cannot be chased away by anyone but the Prince. Ezra. Bring him here, or everything you care about will be lost.”

The council erupted in disagreement. Lucien’s voice cut through the chamber, sharp and accusing. “We can’t simply hand control to Ezra! He is gone. He cannot return!”

Thorne’s growl added weight to the argument. “You are reckless, Lira! Summoning him won’t save us. It’s a gamble with too high a cost.”

Lira’s eyes flared, icy and unyielding. “I am done listening to your cowardice. Lives are being lost. The city is burning. And all your politics, all your schemes, mean nothing if you don’t act now. Ezra is the only one who can stop this, and I will bring him back whether you like it or not.”

Morwen smirked, leaning slightly closer to Lira. “Finally, some sense. The sooner he is here, the sooner this chaos can end. But mark my words the council’s tricks will only slow you, weaken you. You must act quickly and wisely.”

Lira’s jaw tightened. “I know what I’m doing. Don’t lecture me.”

Lucien shot a glare at her, voice sharp. “Do you even know what you’re asking? Bringing the Prince back…. he will not return the same. You may unleash more than you can control.”

“I’ll take that risk,” Lira replied evenly. “We don’t have time for caution. The Siphon is killing people right now, and if Ezra doesn’t return, we all die. And it’s on your heads, not mine.”

Thorne’s growl was low, threatening. “If you fail…”

“I won’t,” Lira interrupted, cutting him off, her voice like steel. “I will not fail. And Morwen,” she added, locking eyes with the witch, “you obey me while we do this. No tricks. No games. One wrong move, and you stay in that prison forever.”

Morwen’s smirk widened, but there was a glint of respect..or maybe amusement… in her eyes. “Very well, Ashblood queen. You’ve made your choice. Let’s see if you can see it through.”

The chamber fell silent, the council unsure of what to do next, while Lira’s resolve burned brighter than ever. Ezra would return, and she would make sure the Siphon, the council, and anyone who stood in her way would pay the price for underestimating her.