Rafe cut in, tone harder than rebar. “Enough, Varic. The footage is clear. The signature is there. Archon himself testified.”
Otero leaned back, steepling his fingers. “Archon is not above bias. His daughter is Iron Valor. He has a stake in this little melodrama.”
A hush fell over the call, and for a moment it was just the faint buzz of a thousand-mile connection, the tick of a grandfather clock somewhere on Rafe’s end. Then Archon spoke, voice calm and absolute.
“I am beyond bias, King Otero. I was present. I examined the site. There is no fabrication here. The only question is whether the Council will stand for what is right, or allow the whims of the undead to sway justice.” His eyes locked on Otero’s, and the screen itself seemed to shiver.
Rafe nodded to the Council Chairwoman, drawing every gaze to his corner of the world. “You heard the testimony. I call for a formal vote.”
The Council Chairwoman agreed. “All in favor of removing Maltraz from the Council, raise your hand.”
Hands went up. The witches, the wolf kings, Kazimir. Even Otero’s own hand twitched, but he left it on the table, staring straight ahead. Archon, of course, did not vote—he just watched, waiting.
“Majority carries,” Rafe said, voice dropping the gavel. “Maltraz is rogue.”
Otero leaned forward, not even hiding the hate in his eyes. “If this goes bad, the next wolf the Council buries will be yours, Rafe. Don’t forget who really runs this continent.”
“You done?” Bronc said, not looking at the camera.
“Quite,” Otero said, pushing his chair back, a sour look on his face.
Then the witches chimed in, their voices weirdly harmonious. “We need to contain the fallout. If Maltraz retaliates, it could spill over into human territory. I propose a task force. Wolves and witches. We’re closest to the human community.”
Menace nodded, eyes darting to Bronc. “We can coordinate. But we don’t do anything until Brie is home.”
The Council Chairwoman agreed. “But there must be a chain of command. Rafe, you take point. Slade and Menace, joint field leads. Witches, please supply support for the pack borders.”
Rafe looked at Bronc, then at me. “Iron Valor?”
Bronc glanced at me, eyebrows raised: Your call.
I didn’t think. I just felt it burning up my throat. “We don’t wait. We hunt. The longer Brie’s out there, the more likely Maltraz kills her—or worse. We take every able body, every resource, and we hit him now.”
A couple of the other screens flickered with muted agreement. Nikki Caufield, the Gloamreach coven leader, actually smiled, tight and small.
Menace was next. “That’s my boy. But we gotta do it right. I’m not having you lose your mate to Maltraz’s games.”
I was about to agree, but then one of the witches piped up, “What about diplomacy? Should we at least attempt to negotiate for the hostage’s release?”
Something in me snapped. I shot out of my chair, sending it crashing into the wall. “Negotiate? With a demon king? He’ll rip her apart the second he hears there’s a chance the Council is considering ruling against him!”
Bronc was already moving, hitting the MUTE button on the laptop and holding up a hand to block the camera’s view. I felt the wolf surge, my teeth snapping, vision tunneling yellow at the edges. I heard myself breathing like I was running a hundred-yard dash.
Arsenal and Big Papa moved fast, creating a wall between me and the screen, just in case I lost it and went full animal in front of every supernatural leader on the Council.
Bronc turned me toward him, speaking in the low tone that cut through any kind of noise. “Listen. Otero’s playing a part. He wants you to go off, make us look weak, unstable. But now Maltraz is off the Council, Otero’s alone. He won’t help Maltraz, not at the cost of his own seat. He’ll stay out of the fight. That means we can hit Maltraz with everything. Do you understand?”
I forced myself to breathe, to relax my fists, even as the claws wanted to push out. “Yeah. I get it.”
He slapped my shoulder, hard. “Good. Now, get back in your chair, clean up, and let’s finish this.”
I nodded. Ms. Pearl handed me a towel, then wiped the sweat off my brow like I was a little kid. It didn’t even embarrass me, just made the fire settle into something steadier, something I could use.
Bronc unmuted the feed.
“Apologies for the commotion,” he said, sliding back into his seat. “You know how wolves get. Being violently separated from his fated mate is upsetting, as you can understand.”
Menace smiled a little. “Don’t apologize, Bronc. When this very Council tried to separate Savannah from me, I almost burned the whole place down.” He pulled her into a heated kiss. Leaving her breathless. “Remember that, Red?”
