“Don't, Henry,” I tell the alpha with a hand on his shoulder to stop him from following Conan, as if he'd be chasing him down to start another war. “It's not worth it. He won't know what hit him when he hears about what happened.”
“What happened?” Heinrich asks, turning to me with a frown.
I glance at Sophie with a gentle nod before going on to explain to Heinrich what happened, leaving no detail out. He listens intently, letting out a breath only once I'm done.
“Whoa. That's…interesting. This changes things…” he observes, and I nod. I notice the way he glances at Sophie with a new sense of appreciation, and I hope the others feel the same.
But once we're inside and the rest of the council joins the meeting—the elders and Amos—I recount what happened, how our powers were fused out there, and the news is met with varying reactions.
Conan appears to be the most uncomfortable, while this is news that should be seen as the light at the end of this dark tunnel.
The council chamber feels smaller than it ever has.
Not physically—Red Moon's meeting hall is still carved from ancient timber and stone, its ceiling arched high enough to swallow sound—but there’s a pressure in the air now, a weight that didn’t exist before tonight. It presses against my chest as I sit beside Sophie, her presence warm and steady at my side, though I can feel the tension in her body through the faintest contact of our arms.
The council is watching her.
Not openly, not rudely, but the way predators assess something new in their territory. Something powerful. Something untested.
Amos stands at the center of the room, hands clasped behind his back, his expression thoughtful rather than suspicious, which I appreciate more than I let show. Heinrich and the elders flank the long table, murmuring quiet observations while Conan sits across from me, his gaze sharp, unreadable, calculating. If he’s afraid of Sophie after what happened at the riverbank, he hides it well, but fear has a scent, and it’s there, buried beneath his bitterness.
“The report of what happened tonight changes several assumptions we've been operating under,” Amos begins, his voice carrying easily through the chamber as he readjusts his glasses on his nose. “It changes the way we can defeat the demons.”
He pauses to allow for the silence to follow, and no one says a word. No one disagrees as they glance at each other.
“The elemental convergence…” Elder Bernard adds, fingers steepled in front of his chin. “Fire and water acting in unison, not opposition. It shouldn’t be possible.”
“But it was,” Heinrich says calmly, defending us simply based on what I told him before the meeting began. “And it worked.”
All eyes turn to Sophie again, and I feel her subtle shift immediately, in her breathing, the way her shoulders tense as if she’s bracing for impact she doesn’t want to face. Instinct flares hot in my chest, my wolf restless, displeased with the scrutiny.
Amos turns to us. “We’d like to see it.”
Sophie stiffens.
“You'd like to see what?” she asks in a timid tone, brows furrowed, though she already knows.
“The way you and Alpha Damian fought together,” Amos clarifies gently. “A controlled demonstration. Nothing extreme.”
I feel her hesitation before she even speaks, the flicker of uncertainty that ripples through the bond like a warning. I feel compelled to place my hand on her lap for reassurance, and I open my mouth to object, but Sophie beats me to it.
“I don’t know if I can,” she admits, her voice steady but quiet. “It didn’t happen because I chose to do it. It happened because something was trying to kill us. I don't have control over my powers.”
A murmur spreads through the room.
“Power that can’t be summoned at will is unstable,” Conan says flatly, his tone unimpressed. “That makes it dangerous.”
I turn on him, coldness flooding my veins as heat gathers in my eardrums. My nostrils flare when I warn him, “Careful, Conan.”
Conan lifts both hands in a show of surrender. “I'm only stating what everyone here is thinking. You know this, too, Damian.”
Amos raises a hand before the tension can snap. “No one is accusing you of being dangerous, Sophie,” he says, but I know it's more for my sake. “But we need to understand the limits of what we’re dealing with.”
She nods once, jaw set, then turns to me to give me a gentle nod, her hand tapping mine gently with reassurance.
Then she stands slowly from her chair. I rise with her without thinking, the movement instinctive, protective.
“It’s fine,” she says quietly to me, though her fingers brush mine as if anchoring herself. Or maybe it's more reassurance for me. “I can try.”
