“How could you know that?” Elena’s voice breaks slightly.
“It responded to my presence in the Syndicate facility.” I struggle to find words for something I felt rather than saw. “I think that’s how I was able to get in and out so easily. It was like it was pulling me there, shielding me. There’s no way I could have made it out alive without help. I wouldn’t have learned of their plans to control dragons or get rid of hybrids.”
My mother’s hands clench on the table. I can feel her anxiety vibrating through the air between us.
Her voice cuts through the speculative murmurs. “I know of these plans. Roland Vex has been pushing hard for purification protocols.”
“The Ivory League elder?” Viktor asks.
My mother nods, her expression glacial. “He believes pure dragon bloodlines are the only salvation. Mixed blood is corruption that must be eradicated.”
Samien, one of the advisors, leans forward. “Why would he think that?”
“Vex lost his entire clan in the territorial wars,” Hargen explains, his voice steady beside me. “Blames hybrids for diluting dragon strength.”
“I think he’s afraid of us,” I add, thinking of the alarm in the commander’s eyes when my power surged when they tried to torture me. “He saw what I could do when I combined my dragon and witch powers.”
“I doubt Vex will ever forget how Ember bested him when he tried to get me to execute Hargen,” my mother says. “My daughter’s magic is immeasurable.”
Luke’s attention sharpens, and a subtle heat colors his gaze. I feel a flush creeping up my neck. His lips part slightly, and I wonder if he’s remembering how he pressed me against that rock, his mouth hot against mine, his hands everywhere at once. I force myself to look away, keenly aware of my mother beside me.
“Vex has been systematically building support within the League,” my mother goes on, thankfully oblivious to the tension crackling between Luke and me. “And he’s a madman. He’ll do anything to put the Syndicate in complete control of anyone with dragon blood.”
Dorian leans forward, his expression grim. “Can they actually control the Sleeping King’s power?”
Caleb’s face darkens. “It would be a fucking disaster if they could. That power disintegrated Malakai Steele in seconds during the last battle. One of the oldest, most powerful dragons in existence—gone in an instant.”
The room absorbs that sobering thought.
“If they channel that…” Caleb continues.
“We’re done for,” Viktor finishes.
Nadia tosses her head, pride evident in her bearing. “Speak for yourself. We wolves don’t set stock in Sleeping Kings and dragonfire and magic. We rule by tooth and claw.”
Viktor’s eyes narrow. “A blow against the dragons is a blow against all supernaturals, Nadia. Your kind could be next. That’s why the Collective exists, remember? We work together. Fight together. Thrive together.”
Nadia considers this, then gives a sharp nod. “So, we have seventy-two hours to stop them. Which means we move now.”
“Agreed,” Viktor says. “Caleb, coordinate strike team. Hargen, European Council liaison. Tabitha, start warning hybrids on that list—get them into hiding.”
The meeting shifts into planning mode. Around me, voices rise and fall, discussing strategic approaches, extraction teams, asset deployment. I try to focus, but exhaustion pulls at me. The adrenaline that carried me through my escape is fading, leaving behind bone-deep weariness.
I glance at Luke, surprised to find him already watching me. His expression shifts for just a moment, unidentifiable emotion breaking through his professional mask. Does he regret letting things go as far as they did? The uncertainty twists in my stomach, mixing with the need that flares whenever our eyes meet.
After several minutes of intense discussion, Viktor turns to me. “Ember, your intelligence gathering was… unorthodox.” He pauses, and I brace myself for reprimand. “But invaluable. You’ve given us the advantage we needed.”
The acknowledgment warms me. “Thank you, sir.”
“You’ll be debriefed further by intelligence. Then medical rest protocols.”
Before I can respond, my mother interjects. “She needs more than rest. She needs time away from…” her eyes slide deliberately to Luke, who stiffens almost imperceptibly, “operational stress.”
My stomach sinks. After everything I’ve done, she still sees me as a child who needs protection. Not as someone who infiltrated a Syndicate facility alone and made it out with critical intelligence.
Viktor nods, taking my mother’s side. “Agreed. Ember is off active duty pending a full psychological evaluation.”
I open my mouth to protest, but Viktor’s expression softens. “Watching Mara die must have left lasting emotional damage. You need time to process what happened, Ember.”
