The atmosphere in the pack house's war room was tense. Warriors lined the walls, silent and watchful as Elira was escorted in. Her steps were slow, deliberate, her injuries barely healed. She wore a long cloak, tattered at the edges, her magic muted and dim. Still, her eyes sparkled with cunning—even as she bowed her head before Callista.
Callista stood tall beside Lucien, her posture regal, her energy pulsing faintly in the air. She was no longer the unsure girl they once knew—there was power in her now, and presence.
Elira knelt. "I come in peace," she said quietly.
Lucien scoffed. "You came in blood last time."
Callista raised a hand, silencing him. "Why are you here, Elira? Speak clearly."
Elira lifted her gaze to meet Callista's. "Because I saw what you are. What you could become. Sabrina doesn't want to kill you anymore—she wants to own you. I couldn't be part of that."
Callista's eyes narrowed. "You nearly destroyed me."
"And I failed," Elira replied, voice trembling. "But that failure opened my eyes. When I attacked you, I felt the surge of your magic. Not chaos. Not evil. Just… raw, unshaped power. You don't belong to Sabrina. You don't belong to the witches."
"I don't belong to anyone," Callista said, cold.
A tense silence followed.
Elira took a deep breath. "Let me prove I've changed. Let me help you. I know Sabrina's plans. I know how she intends to twist your bond with Lucien into your weakness. She's manipulating emotions, using forbidden spells—ones that target the soul-bond. If we don't stop her, she will break you."
Lucien's jaw clenched. "Why should we believe anything you say?"
Elira looked directly at Callista. "Because I know how to destroy her."
Callista stepped closer, magic humming beneath her skin. She stared down at Elira, searching for truth—or deception. "You'll stay under guard. No magic unless I give permission. One wrong move, and you won't get a second chance."
Elira nodded solemnly. "Understood."
Lucien looked at Callista, worry creasing his brow. "You're taking a big risk."
Callista's lips barely curved into a smile. "So is she."
As Elira was led away to the guest quarters under guard, Callista remained still for a long moment. Her thoughts swirled—not with fear, but with focus.
They wanted to use her bond as a weapon.
They would soon learn she wasn't a pawn.
She was the storm.