Whispers at the Round Table

Council of Nine – Lysarien’s POV

The Council chamber smelled of old stone, power, and secrets.

Lysarien sat at the obsidian table with his hands folded, his long white robes pooling around his feet like fallen mist. His eyes were fixed on the arcane projection glowing in the center of the room—a thread of energy suspended above the polished surface.

A heartbeat. A pulse of raw, chaotic magic.

It had flared just before dawn, somewhere deep in the Western Reach. Not an attack. Not a ritual.

Something… primal.

“She’s bonded,” said High Lord Thaniel, tapping his clawed fingers on the table. “We felt the surge across three realms.”

“Confirmed,” said Grand Seer Malrix. “A triad. Male—demonic. Male—fae. And the siren.”

There was a long silence.

Lysarien broke it.

“That’s impossible. Sirens can’t form a stable tri-bond. Their magic is too seductive. Too unstable.”

“Then explain the resonance,” Thaniel snapped. “Explain the tether burning through every ancient ward we’ve laid since the Tithe War.”

“She’s just one girl,” muttered another Councilor. “A banished bloodline. She shouldn’t have this power.”

Lysarien narrowed his eyes. You don’t know Althea like I do.

He bit the inside of his cheek, holding back the flicker of guilt that still haunted him when she thought of the girl’s eyes the night he’d left her at the gate of the Temple of Silence. Barefoot. Bleeding. Crying.

You’ll be safer away from me, Lysarien had told himself.

And now… this.

“She’s not a girl anymore,” Lysarien murmured. “She’s a fully awakened siren with access to two of the most dominant bloodlines in our realm.”

“The Demon King and the Fae War Captain,” Malrix added grimly. “And both have never bonded. Ever. Until now.”

“The problem,” Thaniel growled, “is not just the bond. It’s the imbalance. There is no precedence for what might happen if a siren becomes the conduit of opposing primal forces. Especially with a demonic source on one side.”

“Or if the bond is not stable,” Lysarien added.

Malrix’s blind eyes flicked toward him, glowing with Sight. “You speak with too much familiarity.”

Lysarien held his gaze. “Because I knew her mother. And her mother’s mother.”

He leaned forward, tone steely.

“We either bring her in before she knows what she’s capable of—or we risk a repeat of the Deep Collapse.”

The room went cold.

Everyone remembered the Collapse. An unbalanced triad. A siren heart. A drowned city.

Thaniel exhaled slowly. “Agreed. Bring them in. Quietly. Offer them council, protection, even favor. But monitor them.”

“And if they refuse?” asked the youngest among them, a whispery-boned vampire with violet eyes.

Lysarien didn’t hesitate.

“Then we cage them before they burn us all.”

WHERE POWER TOUCHES FLESH

Althea’s POV

The sun streamed in through floor-to-ceiling windows in Cassian’s estate, gilding everything in gold. The massive room—the same one where our bodies had come together—felt different now. Charged. Sacred, almost.

Xanden stood barefoot at the far end of the room, shirtless, eyes closed. Cassian was behind me, pacing slowly like a predator trying not to pounce. I could feel them both in my bones now, like they’d stitched themselves into my cells.

“We need to test this again,” I said, stretching my fingers outward. “If the bond isn’t just physical… what else can we do?”

Cassian gave a dark smile. “Let’s find out.”

He stepped behind me and placed his palm against my lower back. Instantly, I felt the thrum—his fire magic sparking to life through my spine. Not painful. More like… potential. Like I was a match and he was holding the flame.

Xanden approached slowly, lips curved in quiet awe. “Your aura has tripled in size. You’re not just a conduit. You’re an amplifier.”

He extended his hand. I reached out, and as our fingers touched, my breath hitched.

Everything shimmered.

The room disappeared in a blink. Or maybe… we moved.

No.

We hadn’t moved. The space had changed.

A dome of energy had formed around us—transparent but glimmering like a soap bubble. Cassian cursed under his breath, his golden eyes wide.

“That wasn’t me,” he said. “That was you.”

I was still holding Xanden’s hand.

“I didn’t cast anything,” I whispered. “It just… happened.”

“It’s a protection barrier,” Xanden murmured. “A damn strong one. But it’s tied to you, not us. This is raw creation magic.”

My heart pounded. “That doesn’t make sense. Sirens don’t do that kind of magic. We manipulate, seduce… not create.”

“You’re not just a siren anymore,” Cassian said. “You’re bonded. Your power’s fused with ours. Maybe you’re accessing our potential.”

He raised his palm—and flame burst to life. But it didn’t flicker red or gold.

It was ocean-blue.

He stared at it like it had betrayed him. “What the hell…”

“I can feel your magic in mine,” I said softly. “Like you’re inside me, even now.”

Xanden’s eyes darkened. “Same. But it’s not just emotional. It’s tactical. I could summon your power through my own hands if I tried.”

He looked to me. “Try pushing yours into me. Just a little.”

I hesitated, then let the energy building in my chest flow outward toward his hand. Our joined skin lit up like constellations. Xanden gasped and dropped to one knee.

Cassian knelt beside him instantly. “What is it?”

Xanden looked up at me, stunned. “It’s not just power,” he said. “It’s knowledge. She pushed her thoughts into me. Memories. Visions.”

My heart thundered. “What did you see?”

He swallowed hard. “A ruined throne. A crown made of coral. Blood in the tide.”

Cassian stilled. “That’s not from us.”

“No,” I whispered. “That’s from my mother’s bloodline.”

There was a long, thick silence.

Then Cassian stood, gaze hard. “We need answers. If this bond goes deeper than soul and flesh—if it ties into ancient lineages—then someone will come for us.”

“No,” Xanden said quietly. “They’ll come for her.”

And as the final flare of our magic dimmed, I knew something else:

This wasn’t just a bond.

It was a trigger.

And we’d already pulled it.