“They will,” Eryndor says.
“None of you were meant to survive. You were all targets,” Thaloran says.
Leonard lets out a low whistle. I straighten but don’t speak.
“You’ll be moved to a secure location,” the enforcer continues. “Your safety is our concern now. Until the council finishes its investigation, you are not to interfere. No digging. No retaliation. I mean it.”
He levels his stare at each of us in turn.
I nod. Esmerelda doesn’t.
And when she turns her head just enough to meet my eyes, I see it.
Defiance.
My wolf stirs, recognizing a fighter. Recognizing his match.
Good.
The council might want us benched, but neither of us is built to sit still while our families are frozen in stone.
Thaloran hands us folders with travel plans and address details.
Leonard snorts. “You can’t seriously believe we’re going to sit back and let someone declare war on us without retaliating?”
“Yes,” Eryndor says dryly. “And we aren’t afraid to keep you trapped in a portal if you disobey. Your choice is a place of safety, or a dungeon with magical binds. Either way, we don’t care. You will be safe.”
Minerva groans. “You’re tying our hands on a fight that’s ours.”
“We’ll have agents monitoring the property. Like I said, we don’t care how we have to keep you safe, wewillkeep you safe.”
He doesn’t wait for our replies, just nods once and leaves.
The room settles again, but something’s shifted.
Leonard breaks the silence. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m not built to play house.”
“Good,” Esmerelda mutters. “Because we’re not going to.”
Her steely tone sends a shiver of relief down my spine. I didn’t like seeing her broken.
We blink and are back in the dining room. No one inhales sharply; our silence is the only sound. But yet it is like a scream has stolen the oxygen out of the room as we all take in the aftermath.
I don’t say anything as I head to the bedroom and start packing. Methodically. Quietly.
I grab vials of herbs. Every encrypted thumb drive. Every old, leather-bound book that might help me identify what kind of magic was woven into that wine.
Whoever did this didn’t just try to destroy our families. They tried to use us to do it.
And they have no idea what kind of mistake that was.
Esmerelda walks into the room. I expect her to head to the closet and start packing her clothing, but she doesn’t. She methodically starts handing me the potions I set out on the bed. I turn to her.
We share a look, an unspoken understanding.
We’re on the same page.
Finally.
