The Alliance
The tension in the clearing was thick as Isla and Draven listened to Adrian’s account of Seraphine’s manipulations. The towering trees around them swayed gently in the breeze, their movements contrasting the storm brewing within the werewolf leaders. Isla’s sharp silver eyes glinted with restrained fury, while Draven’s jaw was tight, his hands clenched into fists.
Adrian, battered and bruised, stood before them, his crimson eyes shadowed by exhaustion. He had recounted every detail—Seraphine’s lies, the artifact’s power, and the danger consuming Lyra and Eryon. His voice had been steady, but his urgency was palpable.
Isla crossed her arms, her expression icy. “If what you’re saying is true,” she said, her voice taut and trembling with suppressed emotion, “then they’re more lost than we ever imagined.”
Adrian nodded, stepping forward cautiously. “Seraphine’s plan hinges on their belief that everyone else is the enemy. She’s isolated them, twisted their perception of the past to suit her agenda.”
Draven’s amber eyes burned with fury. “She’s turned them into weapons against us—against their own family,” he said, his deep voice resonating through the clearing.
Adrian hesitated for a moment, his voice softening. “They don’t know the truth,” he said. “They’ve been fed lies, but if we can reach them, remind them of who they really are—”
“They won’t listen,” Isla interrupted, her tone sharp. “If Seraphine’s claws are in them as deeply as you claim, then they’re beyond reason.”
Adrian held her gaze, unflinching. “They’re not beyond saving. I’ve seen it—Lyra fights against the artifact’s hold, and Eryon still hesitates in moments of doubt. There’s a chance. Small, but real.”
Draven took a menacing step forward, towering over Adrian. His voice was cold, his fury barely contained. “And if you’re lying, vampire, if this is a trick—”
“You’ll kill me,” Adrian finished, meeting his gaze without fear. “I’m not here to deceive you. I’m here to fight for them—whatever it takes.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Finally, Draven gave a terse nod, his tone still laced with ice. “Then you fight with us. Or you stay out of our way.”
Adrian exhaled, relief flickering across his face. Isla turned to Draven, her voice low but resolute. “We don’t have time for second guesses. If he’s with us, he’s with us.”
Draven’s sharp amber gaze didn’t soften. “Then let’s move. We’ll bring them home—or die trying.”
