Hana

Hana's POV

I blinked at my grandma. Did she seriously think this was a good idea? I closed my eyes and breathed. 

She had one of the maids wake me up and told me that the High Witch wanted me to come to her office right away.

I thought this summons would be important, but the reality was far from it.

This wasn’t the urgency I expected. Still, I followed the maid through hallways I knew by heart, curiosity prickling about what could possibly require me so early.

Soon, I found myself at her office, always cold, just the way she liked it. Stone floors, a high ceiling, and that constant smell of dried herbs and dust. It sat in the oldest part of the estate, the only room that never changed, no matter how much the rest of the house got updated with paint and polished wood. This place still felt like the castle it once was.

Paintings filled the walls, not portraits of witches or battles, but wild places, rough seas, empty forests, and abandoned cities. I figured they were her way of remembering our past, though I never really got it. The only faces were mine, from when I was five up to my latest academy photo.

The stained glass window threw shards of gold and crimson light across her hair, making her eyes gleam with mischief.

“I’m not going,” I blurted, arms crossed.

She just smiled. “That’s what you say. Your dress is already fitted.”

Of course she did. When the High Witch decided something, it was already settled.

“You’re parading me like a prize goat.” I sat down in the oversized black chair.

She arched a brow. “A goat? At least pick a swan.”

“Swans bite.”

She smirked. “So do you.” My irritation faded to amusement.

Anxiety clawed at my chest. “This summit is a terrible idea. You want me in a room full of fae lords, vampire counts, and—” My stomach twisted. “Alphas.”

Her humor vanished; a cool, protective edge sharpened her voice. “Ah, yes. Wolves.” She spoke the word as if it were poison. “Stubborn, prideful, and far too reckless. Never trust one, Hana. Promise me.” Anxiety prickled as I felt her mood darken sharply.

Her voice was steady, but I caught the brief, flaring tension in her eyes, the silent tremor in her hand as she set her cup down. A memory, maybe. Something she wouldn’t share.

I fiddled with my ring, remembering amber eyes and fire, war coming. I laughed. “Don’t worry. I’d marry a toad first.”

“Toads are reliable.” She set her teacup down with finality. “A wolf will ruin your life.”

Her words hit deeper than I liked, stirring up an old fear. After that vision, part of me agreed. Wolves meant ruin. Bracing myself, I forced a steady breath, feeling my resolve harden.

In that one alpha in Duskreach, he definitely can't be trusted.

I smirked. “So no wolves. What about vampires? Built-in sugar daddies.”

Her eyes widened just enough. I grinned.

“Absolutely not,” she snapped, lips twitching. “You’d faint at the first nip.”

“And fae?”

“Only if you like being kept inside. Fae treat women as prizes, not equals.”

She wasn’t wrong: fae men, stubborn and prideful, might be just as bad as wolves.

“Then what’s left? Witches?” I groaned.

Her grin turned sly. “Exactly. A nice witch boy who survives sunlight.”

“Boring,” I muttered, betraying a smile.

Even as we argued, worry circled my mind. Why now? She’d never brought me to a summit. Was I supposed to parade before rulers and lords as some grand statement?

Every five years, the High Witch, the High Alpha, the fae lords, and the vampire courts all came together to talk, trade information, and pretend to keep the peace. A thin shield against wars waiting to happen.

Why did she want me there this time? Uncertainty twisted into suspicion, my heart pounding with a new urgency.

Unless…

My stomach dipped at the thought.

Maybe this was how she’d reveal me, dangle me before allies and predators. Set me on the path to her chosen “union.”

The thought twisted like barbed wire in my chest, and before I could stop myself, the words tumbled out. “Grandma. Are you finally announcing that I am your heir?” My voice cracked, nerves overwhelming my usual bravado.

The moment it left my mouth, panic bloomed. My freedom is slipping through my fingers like sand in an hourglass. No more stolen nights at the bar with Bella. No more lazy mornings with coffee and books, pretending I was just another college girl. No more dreaming about traveling, seeing cities lit up like fireflies. All of it, gone. Traded for gowns, councils, obligations, and gods forbid....a husband.

I clenched my fists in my lap, nails biting into my palms.

As if she could see every frantic thought flashing across my face, Grandma clicked her tongue, concern flickering momentarily in her eyes before she composed herself.

“Hana Mae Wingford.” Her voice sharpened, carrying the weight of centuries. She rose slowly, moving toward the fireplace with a grace that denied her age. The flames snapped as though bowing to her.

“It’s time I pass the crown to you.”

The air caught in my lungs, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. A rush of disbelief and awe crashed through me.

“These old, withered bones are not keeping up as they used to. Taking you to the summit will let the world know that witches will not weaken, even if I am not as strong as I once was. It is time to show them my beautiful granddaughter, my heir, my apprentice.”

Her eyes gleamed like iron under firelight.

“You will soon become the High Witch. And now, Hana, is the time to start building allies. As I fear…” Her voice lowered, almost to a whisper. “War is upon us.”

 

 

Cael’s POV

 

The sleek black sports car sat outside. I leaned against the cool metal, eyes fixed on the forest and distant mountain peak. Protecting my pack comes first, no matter what it takes. The mate bond? I’ll deal with that later. For now, there’s a task to focus on.

Going to the summit.