OLIVIA’S POVThe decision from the Royals arrived sooner than I had anticipated—but not sooner than I had prepared for.I was in the kitchen, my fingers still damp from rinsing the morning herbs James had brought in, when the air in the adjoining room shifted. It wasn’t the kind of shift you hear or see—not a sound, not a gust of wind. It was a disturbance in something deeper, older. A silent warping of the invisible threads that held the world together.I wiped my hands on the cloth by the sink and walked toward it.By the time I reached the living room, the ripple had already passed. In its wake, a scroll lay on the edge of the wooden table beside the window—glowing faintly in the gold-silver light of early morning. The air around it shimmered with residual magic, like the echo of a song long after the music has stopped. I didn’t need to guess who had sent it.Gold-pressed parchment, thick and pristine, sealed
OLIVIA’S POVBy the time I reached the pack, dawn had just begun to stretch its golden fingers across the horizon. The valley was still, quiet in that early morning hush that came just before the stirrings of life. But I could already feel the tension waiting for me beyond those walls. It weighed on my shoulders heavier than the cloak I wore.I slipped through the main gates without ceremony, but it didn’t matter—James must have told them I’d be back. Eyes found me before I’d even stepped through the threshold. No one said a word, but their silence echoed: Where did you go? Why didn’t you tell us?Inside, Dominic stood in the foyer, arms crossed, jaw tight. The twins weren’t around—probably still asleep—and for that, I was thankful. His gaze pinned me the moment I stepped into the light. Laura was there too, her expression unreadable, while James hovered nearby with that familiar diplomatic calm he always wor
OLIVIA’S POVThe sky was still bleeding shades of lavender and charcoal when I slipped away from the estate. Dawn hadn’t fully broken, and the world still lingered in that fragile stillness between night and day—a quiet space where secrets could move unseen. I left no note. No kiss on the forehead for my children. No whispered goodbye to Dominic, knowing all too well that he would join me if he knew and that would only make things difficult for me . Only James knew.He had connections—far-reaching ones buried deep within the political veins of the supernatural world. Ones forged not through brute strength but with careful words, loyalty earned over years, and quiet favors exchanged in back rooms where secrets lingered longer than shadows. James had always been the sort of man who understood the subtleties of power. Not the loud, boastful kind, but the power that moved beneath the surface, masked by courtesy and controlled restraint.When
THIRD PERSON’S POVThey arrived at the estate just as twilight draped the valley in dusky indigo and soft gold. Dominic’s pack stood silent, in wary awe of their return—sensing something had shattered beyond recognition but unaware of the full darkness Olivia had faced. The faint wisp of extinguished rune-smoke trailed behind them like the residue of forgotten threats.Finally, the witches were gone. The conspirators lay defeated, their hands stained with blood and betrayal. The immediate danger had ended—but the laws of the pack still stood. Bound by ancient covenant, Olivia, Dominic, and their allies had broken them all: forbidden violence within neutral borders, rogue magic used against fellow supernatural beings, and ritual breaches without council sanction. If the pack discovered their transgressions, chaos would follow.They had won the battle—but the price remained. Punishment wasn’t mercy in this world—it was rec
THIRD PERSON’S POVFlames still curled around the edges of the ruined chamber, casting shifting light over broken stone and scorched runes as Olivia took a breath. Every witch in the room stared at her fiery wings, but none dared move. Then Derek stepped forward through the emerald glow of rune-lit tunnels, silhouette sharp against the flickering walls. The witch who’d plotted everything froze—she realised that he would come for her first, but she still couldn’t solve the mystery behind his existence, how is he still alive?She whispered under her breath, her voice trembling with a mix of triumph and confusion: “I killed him with my own hands... was it even him, or something else masquerading in his place?” The words fell like poison into the silent chamber, halting the remaining witches mid-step. In that hush, the silver-haired elder’s face turned pale. “She never told us he'd survive,” another muttered, pacing the
THIRD PERSON’S POVThe chamber fell silent the moment the ancient stone doors slammed shut behind us. The runes carved into the walls flared to life, sealing us—and Olivia—inside. A palpable thrum of power filled the air as the threshold locked tight, every exit sealed by invisible warding. We were contained now.Olivia turned and faced the coven, wings of fire flickering at her back. Each pulsing feather glowed orange-gold, like embers alive with intent. The cavern’s shadows danced across their faces, dancing in time with the flicker of her phoenix magic. The air tasted like smoke and rising ash.They froze.When Olivia’s fiery wings unfurled in the dim light of the chamber—feathers licking with flame, stretching outward like living embers—every witch’s breath caught. Their reactions were visceral, discordant, but unanimous in shock and dread.The aging witch with silver hair stumbled backward, finge