Camden inclines his head. “Yes. I’ll arrange the particulars today.”
Looking satisfied, Odelia says, “One more amendment; I want shifters and witches to travel to human villages together and start with humanitarian work. Humans are the most susceptible to attacks, and the dark faye and vampires may end up wiping them all out simply for fun. They’ve suffered enough under the reign of mythics; it’s time we return some of their dignity.”
“Agreed,” I say.
The reason I didn’t ask for more aid for humans in the treaty is because I didn’t think anyone would care enough to go for it; it’s refreshing that the witches seem to care aboutalllife deeply, not just the lives of their own.
“I’ll forewarn you,” Claire adds in, “if the wolves you send us step a toe out of line or get aggressive towards our witches, I’ll drown them in lava.”
There’s a long pause, then Wyatt says in a stunned voice, “Hold on a fucking second,you’rethe volcano witch?”
Volcano witch? And what’s that flicker of nervous recognition in Wyatt’s expression as he stares at theredheaded witch? I look at Claire, who’s a tiny harmless-looking thing despite the magical power radiating off of her like a furnace.
I clear my throat. “Can someone fill me in on whatever it is I seem to be missing?”
“If Wyatt’s suspicion is true, Claire once erupted a volcano on a pack of shifters, killing every one of them,” Camden tells me.
“A pack ofrogueshifters who pillaged and raped the village where I grew up, killing my parents along with every other witch and warlock there,” Claire says with an icy smile. “I was the sole survivor. Naturally, I saw fit to return the destructive favor. It’s notmyfault I’m better at setting homes on fire than they were.”
“You calleruptingavolcanothat was previously dormant forthousands of yearssetting a fire?” Wyatt asks.
Claire gives a delicate shrug. “Fire, lava, either way, the result is the same: burning to death. I’m a strong advocate of an eye for an eye. At least the way I did it ensured quick deaths; the rogue shifters took pleasure in the suffering they wrought in my village.”
“I heard of the conflict from my father,” Camden interjects. “It was several decades back, if I recall correctly. The rogue pack was in conflict with the crown, but the Rockwell Pack was fighting rebellions on multiple fronts at the time, so we didn’t have the resources to track a small group of outliers.” He pauses, turning his gaze on Claire. “It’s good you took care of them, less good that they didn’t suffer. Any person who commits crimes of that caliber againstanybeing deserves a lengthy bout of torture before death.”
The conviction with which Camden speaks surprises me. Part of me expected him to defend shifters, regardless of their crimes; apparently, he has a stronger moral compass than I expected. I have to admit, I like that fact alot. I’m also in complete agreement with him and find myself admiring Claire. I don’t know the entirety of that particularstory, as I don’t know Claire’s whole story, but if her response to losing her family and home was to return the favor on her enemies in a trulyspectacularmagical fashion…well, that’s fucking awesome.
To hear that there are witches with powers such as making a dormant volcano erupt…it’s slightly disconcerting, but mainly, it gives more fuel to the fact that shifters should be allied with them rather than hold them at a distance out of fear.
“Would you have done differently to a group of people who killed everyone you loved and left you for dead?” Reyna asks Wyatt in a dangerous purr.
“If I had that ability, I’d have used it,” Wyatt instantly responds. “As is, I would track the perpetrators, spend a few months enjoying their screams of pain, andthenkill them. Please don’t mistake my surprise for condemnation; I agree with my brother that Claire gave them the easy way out.”
Claire shrugs again. “I was weak, half-starved, and didn’t have very good control over my powers. It was vengeance that kept me alive long enough to do what I did.”
“Good thing, too,” Reyna chips in. “That shockwave of magic you let out led us straight to you.”
“Back to the matter at hand,” Odelia interjects. She snaps her fingers, and I feel a small wave of some sort of magic travel over the room, latching onto the papers of the treaty in front of each person.
Curious, I flip through the pages, and find that the amendments and terms we just discussed were added with nothing more than a snap of Odelia’s fingers and a thought. No spoken spell, no ritual…while editing words onto a page seems pretty small in the abstract sense, in reality, there’s a lot of intricacy to it. Creating ink where there was none, matching the script to the writing already on the page…her littletrick serves the dual purpose of adding in what we discussed, and showing off how casually she can use magic.
Wyatt and Camden also look surprised as they flip through their papers, reading the new additions. Once we’re done, I say, “Everything appears to be in order. Are we ready to sign?”
Chapter Forty-Two
The treaty requires two signatures of the leaders of each nation—witches and shifter wolves—as well as a witness on both sides as a second.
“I believe we are ready,” Odelia says. “If I might, I’d like to suggest forgoing the traditional signatures in ink, and instead using signatures that are magically binding so that neither side can break the treaty.”
Camden arches an eyebrow. “You don’t trust us?”
“I trust Sierra—she’s one of ours and has proven her loyalty just through the wording of this treaty,” Odelia says. “You, however, I do not trust entirely, and I hope you can understand why. I’ve lost hundreds—thousands—of my witches to the mercy of shifters.”
Camden seems irritated by the doubt of his integrity—typical wolf pride. Still, instead of being combative, I choose to use persuasion. I place a hand on his shoulder and say softly, “The humans had an old saying; Rome wasn’t built in a day. Likewise, trust will not be built in a day. You can’t fault them for wariness.”
Camden inhales deeply, takes my hand in his, and places it on his lap, then gives the witches a nod. “Fine. What will the magical signatureentail?”
“You need to sign your names in blood—we have a quill that draws blood from the wielder’s body without inflicting wounds,” Odelia responds. “Then I’ll do a simple spell that’ll bind your signatures and blood to the treaty. Should it be broken by any of the signers, the blood in your body will boil and your veins and arteries will split until you hemorrhage to death.”
