Kade’s words still ring in her head.You’ve caused enough disorder.Dismissed. In front of the entire pack. Before guards, elders—before that bitch Freya.
Her jaw aches from clenching. The sapphire gleam of that cursed diadem still burns behind her eyelids. Freya had walked into court like she owned the Moon itself. And the pack had watched her—listenedto her. Even Kade hadn’t stopped her.
Izel reaches the spiral stairway leading to the old council wing. She takes the steps two at a time, skirts whispering like angry ghosts. At the end of the corridor, heavy oak doors guardElder Thane’s study. The scent of parchment and ale leaks through the crack.
She doesn’t knock. She shoves them open.
Elder Thane looks up from his desk. “Lady Izel,” he says, voice smooth as oil. “I heard there was… excitement in the court today.”
“Mockery,” she snaps. “Freya humiliated me before the entire pack. Kade stripped me of my title, refused to defend me.”
Thane leans back in his chair, hands steepled. “And what is it you want from me?”
“I want justice,” she hisses. “The High Council must see what she’s done—what she’s become. The envoy was afuckingdisappointment.”
“Justice,” he repeats softly. “Or vengeance?”
Izel’s lips curl. “Both.” She draws a scroll from her sleeve, already inked with her formal petition. “I invoke Section Twelve of the Luna Charter. I request aCompetency Trial.”
Thane’s brows rise. “A dangerous path. You would pit yourself against the true Luna before the High Council? Especially after knowing she bears the High Luna’s mark? That is a blood sport.”
“Let her bleed for her crown,” Izel says. “I will burn her with my fire. I will call upon my ancestors. I will siphon their powers and tear her apart.”
Thane studies her for a long moment. Then he smiles. “Very well. I will deliver your petition myself.”
As she turns to leave, his voice follows her. “Be certain you can survive what you’ve begun, Lady Izel. The Moon has a cruel sense of fairness.”
“I’ve never bowed,” she says without looking back. “I survive. Always. Like everyone in my family before me did.”
The doors close behind her with a heavy thud, echoing through the halls like the toll of a distant war drum.
WITCHFIRE
Freya
The afternoon sun filters through the courtyard trees, scattering light over stone and grass.
Finn stands in the middle, a wooden staff in hand. He swings clumsily at another pup his size, their sticks clacking together before both burst into laughter and tumble to the ground.
I stand at the edge of the courtyard, watching them, my heart tightening and softening all at once. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him laugh like that.
He’s safe. For now.
Jax did what I asked him to do. He went to Kade quietly, mentioned the Conclave, hinted that the High Council might find it improper for the children to stay with Izel—or with me. Said it would look better if they were neutral, always kept in the nursery, away from either of us, until the Conclave was done.
Kade, in his typical pride, had thought it his own idea. And now, for the first time in months, Izel sees the children only rarely.
I still remember the way she had snapped at Finn that night—too cruel for a boy his age. The memory makes me grip my cloak tighter. Seeing him smiling now, even if only for a few moments, feels like balm over a wound that refuses to close.
Finn spots me before I can decide whether to call out. His little head jerks up, bright golden eyes widening. Then he drops the staff and runs straight to me.
“Mama!”
The word hits me like sunlight after endless winter. My throat closes with a gasp.
He wraps his small arms around my waist with all the force he can muster. I bend down, gathering him up. He’s heavier than I remember, taller too—his legs dangle past my knees now. My little boy isn’t so little anymore.
“I missed you,” he says, his voice muffled against my shoulder.
