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FORTY-NINE

T he council chamber hummed with tense whispers as Xai entered fifteen minutes late. He had never once failed to arrive early for council business. Elder shifters, fae representatives, and witch elders crowded around the massive oak table, enchanted torches casting dancing shadows across grave faces.

Elder Jinli Leonid, the lion matriarch, fixed him with a penetrating stare as he took his seat. Her golden eyes so like Zina’s yet lacking their warmth, tracked him with feline assessment. She exchanged a subtle glance with Elder Willow, whose witchy intuition likely revealed more than Xai cared to share.

“Elder Emberwylde,” Jinli acknowledged, her voice a smooth purr that did nothing to disguise her curiosity. “Your absence delayed important matters.”

“My apologies.” Xai struggled not to fidget under the collective scrutiny. For centuries, he had epitomized draconic composure—always perfectly groomed, meticulously punctual, and unfailingly prepared. Today, his hair lacked its usual perfect styling, his tie sat slightly askew despite his attempt to fix it, and his shirt bore the faintest coffee stain at the cuff. Small details, but glaring to those who had never seen him less than immaculate. “There was an incident requiring my attention.”

Elder Tygra, the tiger representative, inhaled delicately. Her striped orange-and-black hair gleamed in the torchlight as she tilted her head. “You carry lion magic in your aura,” she observed with a hint of amusement. Several heads turned in his direction, eager for his response.

“I visited the Parker spa yesterday,” Xai stated, striving for his usual detachment. “To investigate reports of magical disturbances.”

“Until dawn?” someone whispered from the far end of the table. The words hung in the air, too soft for human ears but perfectly audible to the supernatural council members.

Xai sensed his body temperature rising, threatening to create visible steam from his collar. He focused on the coolness of the stone floor beneath his feet, drawing the heat downward and away. “If we could focus on the matter at hand?”

Elder Willow nodded, her silver braid swinging gently as she moved. The ancient witch’s knowing smile suggested she saw right through his attempt at deflection, but mercifully directed attention back to council business.

“As I was explaining,” she continued, her fingers sketching glowing symbols in the air, “we’ve detected unusual magical activity at seven major ley line junctions throughout Enchanted Falls. The patterns suggest coordinated probing, possibly preparation for a larger magical working.”

Xai leaned forward, grateful for the shift to professional matters. “Do we know who’s responsible?”

The chamber doors swung open before Elder Willow could respond, the heavy oak panels moving silently on enchanted hinges. Conversation halted as Severin Madrigal strode in, immaculate in a tailored charcoal suit that emphasized his leonine grace. His sandy-blond hair caught the torchlight, and his yellowish eyes swept the room with predatory assessment before settling on Xai with unmistakable calculation.

“My apologies for the interruption,” Severin said, his voice smooth as honey laced with poison. “But this matter directly concerns my formal complaint.”

Something cold slithered down Xai’s spine. “What complaint?”

“The one I filed this morning regarding Purrfect Oasis Spa.” Severin approached the table, setting down a leather folio with deliberate care. “Ms. Parker’s reckless mismanagement of crucial ley line junctions threatens our entire community.”

Heat surged through Xai’s body, erupting from his core with such sudden intensity that steam visibly rose from his collar. The ornately carved arms of his chair began to smoke beneath his grip as ancestral fury bubbled beneath five centuries of careful restraint.

Severin failed to hide his satisfaction at the reaction. His lips curved into the barest suggestion of a smirk as he extracted documents from his folio. “I’ve brought evidence that Ms. Parker’s spa treatments are actively destabilizing the magical foundation of our town.”

“That’s a serious allegation,” Elder Fenris growled, the wolf shifter’s gray eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“Based on serious evidence.” Severin spread photographs across the table’s polished surface—images showing distorted energy readings around the spa’s foundation. Xai recognized the manipulation immediately; magical auras didn’t fragment in that particular pattern naturally. “These readings suggest untrained hands tampering with power beyond their understanding. For community safety, I request temporary custody of the property until proper authorities can assess the damage.”

The chair arms crackled beneath Xai’s grip, wood charring from mahogany to black. A thin tendril of smoke rose between his fingers.

Elder Tygra leaned toward him, her whisper carrying a hint of fascination. “How fascinating.” Her gaze dropped to his white-knuckled grip on the now-smoking chair. “And somewhat terrifying given your core temperature.”

Xai inhaled deeply through his nose, the scent of burning wood filling his nostrils. He focused on the ancient meditation techniques his father had taught him centuries ago, visualizing the heat redirecting through safe channels. “This evidence is clearly fabricated,” he stated, each word carefully measured.

“That’s a serious accusation,” Severin countered smoothly. “Perhaps your... personal involvement with Ms. Parker compromises your judgment?” The insinuation hung in the air, heavy as thunderclouds.