“Then, I suggest you try harder,” Rowan said. “Because we do not plan on getting involved in your war. If it becomes more of a problem for us and we have to step in, then we will. But until then, I would like you to handle your own people.”
Evelyn let out a frustrated sigh, then nodded. “Understood. We were hoping for aid, but I see that will not happen.”
Clara hesitated before clearing her throat. “What about the peace treaty?”
Rowan exhaled, another thin plume of smoke curling from his nose. “The peace treaty stands only with the current Council. If the Human Resistance Network takes over your Council, the treaty will no longer stand, and we will declare war on humans.”
Evelyn sucked in a short breath, then nodded slowly. “I understand. That will not happen. Please know we are open to collaboration against the Human Resistance Network at all times. If you change your mind, please do not hesitate to reach out.”
Kaelith offered her most diplomatic smile. “Thank you.”
The holographic feed flickered once, then dissolved. The humans’ faces vanished, leaving only the reflection of our own in the shine of the table.
Ted rolled his eyes. “Humans,” he muttered as he turned his gaze to me. “Drecken, I need to speak with you about my granddaughter soon.”
I perked up, interest immediately overriding my irritation. “Is it what I think it’s about?”
Ted had mentioned her before. She was a hybrid, which was rare. Beyond rare, even, to the point that they'd never been known to actually exist outside of theories.
It would be a groundbreaking discovery in magical research and in history.
He nodded. “Yes.”
I grinned. “Just tell me when. I’m fascinated by the sheer improbability.”
Sabine snorted softly.
“And speaking of fascination,” I said, snapping my fingers.
Summoning magic rippled in the air above my palm, condensing and hardening into the sea-stained tome Hunter had given me to translate for the siren. It hovered for a moment, dripping with residual saltwater, then drifted across the table toward Hunter.
His white eyes with grey circles around the irises widened as he plucked the tome from the air with a nod of thanks.
“Were you able to translate it?” he asked, turning the ruined cover over in his hands.
I snapped my fingers again, floating a leather-bound journal into his other hand. The pages filled with my handwriting in neat, compressed script. “I was. The tome alludes to structured magic for sirens. Like witches and warlocks use.”
Hunter’s brows rose. “Sirens could manipulate worldly magic with their magical essence the same way witches and warlocks could?”
“It’s fascinating, isn’t it?” I grinned. “I’ve never seen anything like it in all my years. Sirens have always been considered instinctual. Their magic comes from their songs, emotion, compulsion, and water. Not formal spellcraft. My mother always suspected there was more to their magic than they were tapping into.” I gestured to the tome. “That proves she was right.”
Hunter looked at the tome and the journal with more interest.
“Either way,” I said, “I want to be in the loop on this. If Melody digs up more, I want to know.”
“I’ll give her your contact information,” he said. “She reached out to me after everything that happened with her family. There was no way I’d deny her help, but having your direct contactwould be easier for her since you know more about this than I do.”
“I do,” I agreed. “Go ahead.”
I’d read the files on Melody Stormsong. Surviving multiple forced matings was lucky. It was unlucky that her father and sister arranged it, but it was once again lucky that the Fates intervened personally to stop it from happening again.
That woman would do great things in the future. I just knew it.
“This information is truly unprecedented,” I added, letting my excitement bleed through again. “If sirens can access structured magic, entire branches of spell theory would have to be rewritten. I want to be part of that.”
Hunter nodded firmly. “I’ll make sure she knows you’re available. Melody will appreciate speaking with someone who understands these topics.”
I grinned. “Fantastic.”
