We all knew that her having that stone wasn’t a good thing, and we had to tell the council.
43
PANDORA
We sat around the large obsidian table in the brightly lit meeting room of the Supernatural Council Headquarters. The air smelled faintly of old parchment, melting wax, and something fruity that clung to the back of my throat.
Shadows danced along the stone walls, flickering in rhythm with the magical orbs lighting the room.
The weight of tension pressed down on us, and it was suffocating.
My mates and I sat together. Dex and Skel were on either side of me, and Bram, Reed, and Hunter sat on the same side as us with Dad. Joel hadn’t come because he wanted to stay back with Jenni, and Everglow wasn’t present either.
On the other side sat Rowan Clearwater with his sharp features drawn taut, Wren Clearwater, who was wringing her hands, Damien with his arm protectively around Wren’s shoulders, Jesper who sat stiffly, and Sabine, who had an expression of concern on her face.
Jesper’s voice carried an edge of frustration as he recounted what happened on the mission. His fingers tapped restlessly against the table, and his jaw was tight.
The atmosphere of the room tightened with every word.
Wren turned toward me after he finished, her gaze hesitant, almost pleading. “You’re sure the bloodstone was Grayson’s?”
I swallowed hard but nodded. “I’m sure. Sybil Shaw specifically stated him by name in the cultist’s memory.”
“Fates.”Her face drained of color, and her lips parted slightly as if she’d forgotten how to breathe.
Damien immediately drew her close, his arm tightening around her shoulders as she buried her face against his chest. His hand stroked her hair gently, his expression hardening like steel. “We’ll get it back, little bird,” Damien promised softly, his voice gravelly with conviction.
“What exactly is a bloodstone?” Dex muttered, shifting in his seat. “It doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s not,” Damien answered. “Bloodstones are made by vampires. They can create a stone with the last drop of a being’s blood that their life force is still alive for. Basically, it traps some of the supernatural’s essence inside.”
“I didn’t know it held souls,” I murmured.
Damien just shrugged.
“They don’t. They hold magical essence and blood.” Rowan’s fiery gaze shot to me. “What is the witch’s full plan? Explain what Jesper didn’t, please.” His voice was low and hard, like embers stirring beneath ash.
I understood why he was so upset. He was concerned for his mate. Grayson Haven had rejected his mate, after all. Then, he went on to make every interaction with Wren difficult until Wren broke their rejected bond with a dark magic ritual.
“She plans to use the dark magic within it to aid her in opening a portal to the Veil,” I murmured. The words scraped against my throat. “Apparently, she imbued Grayson with a lot more dark magic than the dark magic ritual backfire had. Her main goal is bringing dark magic to Kalista.”
Rowan’s nostrils flared, and a breath of smoke escaped as he exhaled heavily. His fingers dug into the table’s edge. “What does your friend think?” he asked, voice rough. “Sybil’s familiar.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, gnawing my lip. “He knows we can stop her, but we’d have to cut off access to her power source first.”
Dex’s hand slid over my thigh, fingers curling comfortingly. On my other side, Skel shifted closer, his knee brushing mine as if grounding me.
Wren gasped, her face lifting from Damien’s shoulder. “A witch or warlock’s power source is their familiar. My warlock mate, Kian, has a familiar. Nightshade is how he’s able to draw so much more power. You don’t mean…”
I nodded, my throat tightening. A tear broke free, tracing a warm path down my cheek.
Skel’s hand rose, gentle fingers brushing it away with a tenderness that made my chest ache. Our bond flared with love and comfort.
“Nebs is her power source,” Skel whispered for me.
“And Nebula has come up with a plan for Pandora to break the dark magic curse on him that ties his soul to Kalista still. He says the best time to do it is just before she succeeds in her ritual because we have to catch her off guard,” Hunter added, his voice grave. “Unfortunately, that means he has to forfeit what keeps him here. He’s prepared to sacrifice himself to weaken Sybil so we can kill her.”
Gasps rippled through the room. Wren clutched Damien’s arm tightly; Sabine’s eyes glistened as she gave me a look of quiet sorrow.
