Page 22

22

CALLUM

B y the time I make it back to the Hollow, I’m drenched in sweat and guilt.

Now I’m here, walking through the back corridors like I belong—while every cell in my body’s still tuned to her .

Elias is waiting.

He’s leaning against the wall just outside the war room, arms crossed, one brow lifted like he’s been practicing his what-the-fuck face for hours.

“Where the hell have you been?” he says, not even bothering to keep it low. “Your dad’s losing his goddamn mind.”

“Let him,” I mutter.

“He’s in mid-session. Half the council’s here. The other half’s been circling like buzzards since the flag went off again.”

I stop short. “What do you mean again?”

“Don’t play dumb. Her shift pinged another pulse. Tripped a supernatural net on the west side.”

Fuck. I clench my jaw.

“She’s fine,” I say. “I got her somewhere safe.”

Elias lowers his voice now. “You were with her ?”

I just stare.

“Shit, Cal.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

His expression flickers. “Did you tell her?”

“Some of it.”

“You tell me ?”

I exhale hard. “Later.”

He doesn’t look satisfied, but he nods. “Come on. They’re mid-firestorm in there.”

We walk through the narrow hallway toward the old council chamber—what used to be a speakeasy basement, now dressed in cracked stone, old tables, and blood-stained strategy maps. The second we step inside, the heat shifts. All eyes flick to me.

My father’s at the head of the room, pacing like a general before a battle. His voice echoes through the space.

“—And this isn’t just about territory anymore. It’s about message. About power. About who controls the narrative before the humans do.”

I move to stand beside Elias, silent, unnoticed for now.

Mathis continues, his tone clipped and sharp. “Typhon’s Brood struck again. East Ridge. Four humans dead. One tagged shifter found at the scene.”

The room shifts. A collective inhale. Someone mutters a curse under their breath.

“Tell me again who they are?” one of the younger lieutenants asks.

Elias leans toward me. “You’re not gonna like this part,” he whispers.

Mathis answers, loud and clear. “Typhon’s Brood is a rogue faction. Old blood shifters and supernatural extremists who believe peaceful coexistence is a joke. They think the humans need a reason to fear us again. A real reason.”

“They’re trying to start a war,” someone says.

“They already have,” Mathis replies. “And this awakened bloodline gave them the perfect reason to stop holding back.”

The room breaks into argument—factions bickering about retaliation, damage control, whether to go public or sweep it under the rug.

I’ve had enough.

“What’s the plan?” I say loud enough to cut through the noise.

All heads turn to me now.

Mathis’s jaw twitches. “Glad you decided to join us.”

“I brought news from Fire,” I say. “You said you wanted diplomacy. I gave it to you. What’s your move now that it’s falling apart?”

He eyes me like I’m one bad decision from being cut out of the loop completely. “Our move is containment. Before humans pin this on all of us. Before the girl’s name gets dragged into it and makes this all worse for us.”

A beat of silence.

The girl.

No one says her name, but they all know who he means.

I fold my arms. “You want to talk containment? Fine. Then we need to start being honest about what the hell she really is.”

The room stills.

Mathis narrows his gaze. “Careful, Callum.”

Elias places a hand on my arm. A silent warning. Not here. Not now.

“May I speak freely?” I ask, eyes never leaving my father.

“You already are.”

I grit my teeth. “Then let me be clear. If we keep pretending the Bolvi line is just some footnote in an old war story, we’re gonna get blindsided. You think this is about one girl ? It’s not. It’s about what she represents .”

“And what’s that?” Mathis asks, voice dry.

I meet his gaze head-on.

“A bloodline older than your title. A legacy we buried because we were scared of what it meant.”

He doesn’t answer. No one does, so I walk out.

Elias catches up to me near the hall outside the council wing.

“You’re gonna get yourself benched,” he says.

“Already am.”

He falls into step beside me, quiet for a few strides. “What aren’t you saying?”

I wait until we’re deeper in, away from ears.

“When I found Edmund,” I start, “he told me something.”

Elias stiffens. “What kind of something?”

“The Bolvi line isn’t just rogue werewolves. It’s older. Wilder . They don’t bend to pack law. They don’t need an alpha. They run on instinct and blood memory. That’s why shifters hate them—because they can’t be controlled.”

“And Kendall?”

“She’s more than just Bolvi. She’s part of something that’s waking up. Something tied to the old wars. And if she shifts again in the open, they’re going to come for her. Not just PEACE. Not just Typhon’s Brood. Everyone. Lots of species and humans have their own prophecies about her specifically. Good, but mostly bad. War. All-ruling.”

Elias curses low.

“She knows some of it now,” I say. “I told her some at the safehouse. She deserved that much.”

“And what if she doesn’t want this?”

“She doesn’t,” I say. “But it’s not about want anymore.”

“Then what the hell is it about?”

I meet his eyes.

“Survival.”