Novel & Cerita Summoning America

"We did hear of what she did when we were attacked by the Amphisbaena... She might have saved our village from further destruction, but what she did is unheard of, whether of a nymph, or a Lycan. It's an abomination for anyone besides the gods to possess such abilities. A bad omen waiting to happen, that's what she is. Doom will befall us all if we don't send her back to where she came from." Elaine stared at the woman in dismay. "Caroline, since when do we depend on idle rumours and useless superstitions?! Why taint the poor girl because she's just half of us? Has she ever wronged you in any way?! Any of you for that matter?" Elaine questioned, but having no answer, the woman sheepishly sat

“But neither did you. And yet here you are. The Moon Goddess chose this for you.” Silence stretched. Then he stepped closer. “A summon doesn’t just test guilt, Alpha Damon. It breaks even the innocent. It twists the truth until people start apologizing for surviving.” I closed my eyes. “I know.” “Then the story has to be straight before you step into that room,” he said. “No hesitation and no half truths, there is no shielding anything or they’d assume and you don’t want that.” I turned to him fully then. “Before that happens, I will be at the convening meeting.”

POV: Callum | Parliament Execution Grounds, Southwark The summons was not optional. That was made clear in the wording, which used the language of invitation but meant the language of attendance required, the kind of letter that arrived on official Parliament parchment with two vampire enforcers waiting in the street below for your response. Callum brought Isla and four fighters. Not because four fighters would make a difference if Parliament wanted to start something, but because showing up alone to a gathering of a hundred supernaturals felt like a statement he wasn't ready to make.

Anguish and excitement bubbled within me as I attempted to push aside the rising doubts and uncertainties in my mind. With one trembling hand I drew the blade across my palm, allowing crimson droplets of blood to fall onto the ground where they hissed like steam on a hot surface. The symbols on the ground began to glow brighter with each word uttered from my mouth, becoming more vibrant and alive. “By the power of my blood and the strength of my magic, I summon thee, Lycan King. Answer to my call and rise once more. Let all that is just and true in the heavens and all that is dark and evil in the underworld be at my command. Come forth, mighty one, and serve your master. Obey my every word a

“And that’s why I need you in my pack.” “Need?” I repeated. “Yes.” He gestured around the room. “The Summit begins tonight. Every major Alpha in North America gathers under one roof. The Eclipse King will make his move soon, I can feel it. War is coming, Lila Ashworth. And when it does, I need every advantage. Every weapon. Every source of power I can claim.” “I’m not a weapon,” I said quietly.

"That’s not ours." I followed them outside. The horizon burned faintly gold with the first light of dawn—but above it, clouds were forming, swirling unnaturally, pulling toward a single point in the distance. The air vibrated, low and rhythmic, like the earth itself was chanting. "The Summoning," Julian whispered. "What?" He turned to me, his expression grim. "Old stories. Before the first packs, before the Moon’s Blessing. When an Alpha carried too much power, the world itself called it back through a ritual—the Summoning. It was meant to restore balance."

I had never done the summoning before, not even when my parents died. I let out a loud howl, a tear rolling down my fur as I summoned everyone to make a little prayer to the goddess for my mate. Immediately I went quiet, I heard loud howls of other wolves, coming from different angles and I summoned them again twice while hoping the goddess would listen to our cries and save Freya. Nothing must happen to her, she must live.

Alpha Ken, the masked man who was probably also a werewolf, was the only summoner. Ken turned around. There was an air of serious around him as if to show that he meant no jokes.

No one objected to it, and no one sought its disruption. “Now,” Quiv began in his old voice, “as I have taught you over the weeks, summoning is a dangerous enough game, and the first thing you should remember about it is that the demon you will summon hates you far more than you hate it. For those of you who already have your demons, registered in the academy’s log—I hope—you may not need this lesson at its early stage. But you will come to need it as time goes on.”

I say as I tried to lift myself up, remembering these boots were new and I was now pissed. I look down at what I had tripped on, narrowing my eyes allowing them to adjust to the dark and dim lighting provided by the moon only to reveal a man covered in blood. I scream hurdling myself off him, my head kissing the floor. I hiss at my now migraine and wonder if I had again come too late for the call. Some tears run down my face just as the sound came. After many years of being subjected to them I had begun to understand that some sounds meant a beckoning, another sadness, the faster one desperation or worry and this one being that of sympathy, only for the calling of beckoning to come again.