The others I don’t know, but read quickly: a vampire, pale and ancient-looking, observing with sinister stillness. A massive man with bear energy in the set of his shoulders. A female wolf with a territorial posture. A woman with birdlike features and golden hair—sharp-eyed, assessing. Another dragon, quieter, watching from the end—must be Dorian Craven, Caleb’s twin.
No Nadia.
I notice the absence immediately. Expected it. She’s not on the Council. But my dragon feels her absence.
Focus.
A single chair faces the table. Positioned to disadvantage—them elevated, me lower, all eyes on me.
Standard interrogation setup.
“Sit,” Viktor says.
I comply. Hands cuffed, resting on my thighs. Posture upright but not aggressive. Every detail calculated: cooperative, professional, contained threat.
Viktor studies me. “Jericho Allon. Former Syndicate Tactical Commander. Decades of service. Multiple operations resulting in Aurora casualties. War crimes that by themselves would justify execution.”
“Yes.” Factual. No point denying documented history.
“You requested sanctuary. Claimed to have critical intelligence. We’re here to determine if that intelligence justifies granting protection to someone with your record.”
“Understood.”
“Verification first,” Kael Craven says. His voice carries authority, even diminished by time. Dragon recognizing dragon but offering no kinship. “You provided Syndicate command structure. Ivory League membership. Operational details. All accurate according to our sources.”
I nod once.
“But that’s baseline intelligence,” Caleb adds. Younger voice, harder edge. “Information we might have obtained elsewhere. What makes you worth protecting?”
“Roland Vex,” I say. “And what he’s building.”
The room shifts. Subtle. Viktor’s eyes narrow fractionally. Vanya leans forward.
“Tell them what you told me,” Viktor says.
“Vex is conducting unauthorized hybrid shifter experiments. Has been for eighteen months. The Syndicate leadership knows but allows it because his research serves their long-term goals.”
“We know Vex conducts research,” the female wolf says. “That’s not new intelligence.”
“You don’t know he has an active facility on Aurora territory.”
Complete silence.
Caleb’s expression doesn’t change, but I see his jaw tighten. “Where?”
“First, I need a guarantee of sanctuary.”
“We expect guarantees, too; that your intel is sound.” The bear shifter’s voice is deep, final. “You’re asking us to protect a war criminal. Give us reason, or we vote for execution.” He pauses. “And right now, I’m leaning toward execution.”
Fair.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Torbjorn,” the golden-haired woman tells him. “I think it’s worth investigating.”
“I agree with Madame Zoya,” Kael interjects. “Let the man continue.”
“The facility is one hundred sixty miles southwest of this headquarters,” I say. “Hidden in the Cascade range. Built into a disused timber processing plant. Vex chose the location specifically because Aurora patrols don’t extend that far regularly.”
Viktor’s hands fold on the table. Controlled. Calculating.
