6. NEPHELINE

6

NEPHELINE

I’m not sure what I expected, sitting at the council’s table but this time with people I know and trust. Well, mostly. I’m at the head of the table with Mateo, my back straight, every nerve in my body on high alert. The weight of this meeting feels suffocating and the tension in the room isn’t helping.

Behind me, I can feel Remi and River’s presence, their unwavering support radiating through the bond. Darius sits to my left, his hand brushing mine under the table, reminding me of the support that surrounds me. Across from him, Asani leans back in his chair, his sharp eyes scanning the room with the kind of cool detachment that only he can manage. Maverick is beside him, quiet but composed, his fingers drumming lightly against the table.

The Sapphire wolves are already seated—Victoria, their Luna, with her mates, Lawrence and Kehlani. Bo sits near the center of the table, his large frame dwarfing the chair. Two other Alphas I vaguely recognize are on the far side, their faces familiar but their names slipping through my memory.

I let out a slow breath, willing myself to calm down, but it doesn’t work. My heart still thunders in my chest, the enormity of this moment pressing down on me. I glance at Maverick, searching for reassurance, but his gaze is fixed on the door. He’s tense, his jaw tight, and that only makes me more nervous.

The door creaks open and every head in the room turns. A new Alpha steps into the space, her presence commanding, almost overwhelming. The air shifts, heavy with magic as it ripples through the room. My breath catches in my throat as I take in the newcomer—tall, sharp-eyed, and powerful. There’s something about her that feels achingly familiar, a resonance of magic that mirrors Maverick’s.

The newcomer steps forward with measured grace, her eyes scanning the room before settling on Victoria. The Sapphire’s Luna rises from her seat, her elegant movements demanding our attention. “This is Ilara,” she says, her words cutting through the tense silence. “Our seer.”

My stomach twists, the blood draining from my face. A seer? Another one? Victoria mentioned that they were rare but then it dawns on me the differences in words. Maverick is an Oraculum but Ilara was introduced as a seer. I wonder what the difference is or if there is one at all. My confusion is mirrored in Maverick’s expression but he just gestures for me to listen.

I swallow nervously, composing myself as Ilara’s gaze sweeps across the table before landing on me. It feels like she’s trying to see into my soul, those sharp eyes of hers both unforgiving and terrifying. She bows her head slightly before speaking. “Luna, I’ve heard much about you.”

“And I’ve heard nothing about you,” I manage, a spark of humor trickling through the bond that has to be either River or Remi but it’s not a lie. I haven’t heard anything about Ilara’s existence. For the little time that the Sapphire wolves have been here, I feel like they’ve been rationing information, giving it piece by piece. It’s getting on my nerves.

Ilara snorts as she moves closer to Victoria, clasping her hands in front of her. “As it should be. A pack should know the cards they hold but everyone else should only see what they have been given.” Victoria gestures for Ilara to take a seat, the Alpha moving, her movements almost hypnotic. The air in the room feels heavier now, charged with something unspoken.

Darius shifts beside me, his hand brushing mine again. “You okay?” he asks quietly, his voice low enough that only I can hear.

I nod. “Fine,” I whisper back.

But I’m not fine. Not even close. I slide my hands beneath the table, folding them together so that no one can see how much I’m out of my element.

This is my seat. My pack. My place, I tell myself.

Ilara’s gaze locks onto Maverick the moment she sits down with the other Sapphire wolves. Her piercing eyes dissect him like she’s reading every secret he’s ever tried to keep hidden. The weight of her attention is palpable, the room growing quieter beneath her scrutiny. Even Maverick, who rarely shows his discomfort, shifts in his seat, his jaw twitching ever so slightly.

Finally, Ilara looks away, settling into her chair with an air of calm authority. She offers a small smile, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s good to see the magic returning,” she muses. Her attention shifts to me again. “And that the Luna of the Nightshades is such a strong woman.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks as I duck my head slightly. “Thank you,” I mumble, my voice softer than I intend.

“Unfortunately, there isn’t really time for introductions and niceties. I was requested to come for a reason.” She glances at Maverick again, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Because your pack has an untrained Oraculum.”

The room tenses. All eyes turn to Maverick, who doesn’t flinch but doesn’t meet her gaze, either. Ilara studies him for another moment before leaning forward, her elbows resting lightly on the table.

“The magic within you is great. Greater than anything we’ve seen in decades. But if it’s not trained, it could be disastrous.”

Maverick scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “How exactly do you train something that’s unpredictable?” His eyes flash with annoyance before he reigns in his emotions. For a few seconds, I see beneath the mask he keeps up—the lingering pain and confusion hiding under everything. Those same emotions trickle through the bond before they disappear and I realize he’s been trying to protect me from himself.

I hate it.

Ilara’s expression doesn’t waver. She tilts her head slightly, her eyes glinting with something almost playful. “You don’t train the magic itself,” she says simply. “You train its vessel. If the body is strong, the magic will know its limits,” Ilara continues. “As it stands now, I can sense it flowing from you, without pause. Like a river with no banks to contain it.”

That sounds exactly like my Alpha. Each vision seems like a little too much, straining his body and his mind. He’s passed out more than once and I hate watching it every time. I don’t care if Mother Nature or fate chose him. His pain hurts me too. “What does the training involve?” I ask, cutting into the conversation.

A grin spreads across her face as she focuses on me again. “Concentration. Determination. Meditation. Strengthening the vessel is not about brute force, but discipline. Balance.” She reaches into her robe and pulls out a weathered book, its cover etched with symbols that seem to shimmer faintly in the light. “This,” she says, placing the book on the table with a soft thud. “This is a collection of teachings passed down through the packs. I was told the halfway house in the crystal forest was destroyed, but each pack has preserved parts of our magical knowledge to ensure it isn’t lost. But the question remains, Luna. Will you allow me to train your Oraculum?”

The air leaves my lungs, my chest tightening painfully. Maverick’s magic has been a blessing and a curse, something that sets him apart but also puts him in constant danger. I look at him now, his calm mask firmly in place, but I know better. I see the strain beneath it, the way his jaw is still clenched and that furrow in his brow.

Tears well up in my eyes and I blink rapidly, trying to keep them at bay. “Will it save him?” I whisper, my voice trembling.

Ilara’s expression softens. “I will do my best.”

The tears spill over despite my best efforts and I nod, my throat too tight to speak.

“Then it’s settled,” Ilara states, her voice cutting through the emotion in the room. “The training will begin immediately.”

The conversation shifts, the tension in the room softening but not dissolving completely. There’s still so much to discuss, so much to decide. Ilara’s presence looms large, even as she settles back into her chair, her sharp eyes scanning the table with a quiet intensity that makes my skin prickle.

Victoria clears her throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “Let’s move on to the council. If our packs are to unify, the council must reflect that unity.”

Everyone murmurs in agreement. I glance at Mateo, his expression unreadable as he leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. My beautiful Alpha is all hard edges and ruthlessness, his wolf pushing toward the front. However, it isn’t feral like it had been a couple of weeks ago. It speaks of the magic that resides within him and his status as pack Alpha.

“I think it’s obvious that you and your mates should sit on the council,” Mateo declares as he nods toward Victoria, Lawrence, and Kehlani.

Victoria’s lips twitch into a faint smile. “We’d be honored,” she says, though there’s a flicker of something in her gaze—hesitation, maybe.

“And Ilara,” Mateo continues, his attention shifting to the seer. “Your role will be invaluable moving forward.”

Ilara inclines her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “I accept.”

The room grows quieter, a heavy pause stretching between us. I glance around the table, taking in the faces of the people who will help shape the future of our pack. It feels surreal, sitting here, making decisions that will ripple through generations.

“What about the elders?” Mateo asks, breaking the silence. He clears his throat, no doubt ridding of the painful truths still present in our pack. Even the one elder that Mateo trusted has stepped down from his role—not that I blame him. “The Nightshade elders… many of them were faulty in some way. Corrupt, biased, or stood by while the corrupt ones worked against our pack values. If we’re rebuilding, we need to start fresh. I want to pick from both sides, to truly unite us if that is our choice.”

Everyone agrees with Mateo, my Alpha continuing as he lists the changes that will be made beneath the full moon in the next day or two. That the pack is required to be notified of everything going forward, unlike when his mother was running the pack. Again, murmurs agree with the pack Alpha, leaving me with a fleeting sense of peace.