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“Well, what do you know?” Torin shot a glance her way as he stood beside her, towering above. She let out a discreet exhale that she had been holding in and kept her vision on the chief, but she couldn’t hear a single word he was saying as she processed her pairing. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears.

Torin leaned in. “To be paired with three of the best hunters in the kingdom...” He nudged her a little with his elbow. “They clearly think you are special, Clearwater.” He nudged her again with his shoulder.

Her cheeks bloomed red. “I swear, if you nudge me one more time, I will stab you in your sleep,” she hissed quietly at him, low enough for no one else to hear.

As her trio of hunters bowed and took their seats again, the chief commander moved on to the next pairing. Torin lowered himself back into his chair as Emara did too. “Are you threatening to come to my room, Miss Clearwater of House Air?” A wicked grin tugged on his lips. “At least you won’t have to travel far from your own. That could come in handy.”

“In your dreams.” She balled her hands into fists, trying to keep focus on what the prime members were saying.

She failed.

He chuckled beside her and tapped a finger on his knee as his voice turned dark and alluring. “You don’t want to know what goes on with you and I in my dreams, angel.”

She swallowed as a heat started to gather low in her core.

How could he be so brazen in front of so many people? How did he have the confidence that no one would hear him?

He probably liked the thought of that.

She scowled, wishing that she had the same level of nonchalance that he did.

“No, but seriously, you have been given great protection, Emara,” he added with no quip or jest lining his tone. “I am happy with your guards.”

Before she could open her mouth to speak, the chief commander’s voice cut through the muffled voices in the room. “Sybil Lockhart, promised heir of House Earth, you have already made claim to your bloodline, and will be placed under the protection of following Hunters: Marcus, of Clan Coldwell, Arlo, of Clan Stryker, and Gideon, of Clan Blacksteel.”

Emara allowed herself a glance at Gideon as he stood. His face gave nothing away. And as he accepted his newest mission, Emara wondered why her heart felt heavy. As the lists went on and on, going through every witch of importance and every hunter that would protect them, Emara tried her hardest to focus, but her mind was racing, spinning.

“It’s almost over,” Naya Blacksteel whispered as she placed a hand over Emara’s twitching thumbs.

The Fae King spoke gracefully, drawing her attention. “We also would like to give permission to extend our Fae guards to the human faction.” His violet eyes blinked once, convincing Emara that he was not, in fact, a stone statue. “It has been an era since we guarded human life, but we feel now, more than ever, it is necessary.”

The chief commander glanced at the other members of the prime, then nodded at the King of Fae. “Your permit is granted. The hunters thank you for your generosity. It will allow us to not stretch our clans so thinly across Caledorna. The Gods will not forget it.” He looked over at the sole woman on the panel. “The Supreme’s guards will be as they stand now. You will keep the hunters who reside at the amethyst palace.”

A smile expanded across her creamy-skinned face, and she nodded in acceptance.

“Do you have any requests for guards, Alpha Baxgroll?” The chief asked his prime leader for the Shifters.

The alpha smiled, keeping his dangerous fangs hidden under his lips. “We have no requirement for guards. I have many Shifters in a position to be placed where they need to be.”

“I have one request, Chief Commander.” The Supreme finally sat forward in her chair, and everyone seemed to be caught off guard. “I would like to ban all portaling by a witch’s hand.” She gave off a coy look, but Emara had the feeling she liked all eyes to be on her. “It is not safe for my witches to be using portals. We need to save all of our strength; portaling significantly depletes our magic, and I think it would be sensible to stop them at once. Therefore, until I lift the pause, I would see them banned.”

The chief commander drew his eyes from her and rolled the long scroll into a cylinder. He looked up to see if the other prime members had any objections to her wish, and as the silence grew heavy in the room, he nodded. “Granted. Please send your communications out as soon as possible to establish your newest legislation.” Turning back to the crowd, he said, “These protection orders fall in place at the light of dawn, tomorrow. The promised empresses must get ready to leave for Amethyst Palace, where the ascension will take place.”

Her ascension was taking place.

At the amethyst palace.

In fourteen days.

“These witches are the future of our kingdom.” The chief commander’s voice echoed through the room as he looked over his crowd once more. “Protect them with your life.”

Emara’s shoulders tensed, and a flurry of nervous emotions curled in her stomach.

Naya placed a delicate hand on Emara’s arm. “Don’t worry, my love, I will see to it that you have everything you need.”

Emara allowed a small smile to shape her face before the factions began moving.

The summit was less painful than Emara had thought it would be. Not that it wasn’t intense, because it was—at times she had fought with the sickness in her stomach to stay down—but she hadn't been asked any questions about the Uplift, and the reprieve that engulfed her heart once it had finished was overwhelming.