Chapter 2 Kael Pov

“You have three days,” the High Witch said, her voice measured and absolute, “to remove your kind from this city.”

The words landed the moment I took my seat.

No greeting. No negotiation.

Pierce went still beside me. I didn’t need to look to know his reaction—his temper was never to be tested.. Across from us, the council watched with careful attention, as if measuring exactly how far they could push before something broke.

I should have answered immediately.

Instead, I found myself distracted, the scent had followed me in.

It wasn’t blood, it  wasn’t magic either not in the way I understood it.

It was something softer. Warmer. Completely out of place in a room like this.

For a moment, I couldn’t place it.

Then it deepened.

Something familiar stirred—faint, distant, buried beneath centuries of instinct and control. It slipped past every defense I had built, quiet and persistent, until it settled somewhere I couldn’t ignore.

It felt like memory.

Not a specific one. Just the echo of something… human.

I didn’t like it.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” the High Witch asked.

Her tone hadn’t changed, but the room had grown too quiet.

I realized, belatedly, that my silence had stretched longer than it should have.

“I understand,” I said.

My voice was calm.

It always was.

But the distraction lingered, threading through my senses in a way I couldn’t quite shut out.

Pierce leaned forward slightly. “You’re asking hundreds of us to abandon everything. That’s not a demand you make lightly.”

“It’s not a request,” one of the council members replied.

“Enough,” I said, before Pierce could push further.

He leaned back, but the tension in him didn’t ease.

“We came here to prevent escalation,” I continued, directing my attention to the High Witch. “If there is someone targeting your people, they are not acting under my authority.”

“And yet it’s your kind leaving bodies behind,” she said.

There was no fear in her voice, that was brave.

“That’s exactly why this should concern you,” I replied. “Whoever is responsible wants conflict. You’re giving it to them.”

A brief pause followed.

“We’ve already waited too long,” another council member said quietly. “We can’t afford to hesitate again.”

The scent shifted.

Stronger this time.

Closer. I could feel it.

It cut through the room in a way nothing else had, sharp enough to demand attention. My focus slipped—not entirely, but enough to notice.

Unusual.

I forced myself to ignore it.

“This city has held peace for decades,” I said. “You would end that based on assumption.”

“Based on evidence,” the High Witch corrected. “Nine witches are dead.”

“And more will follow if you turn this into a war.”

The words settled heavily between us. For a moment, no one spoke.

Then—

“Perhaps there is another option.” The voice didn’t belong to anyone at the table.

Every head turned She stood near the entrance, Too far to have been part of the meeting. Too composed to have entered by accident.

Recognition came immediately.

Not of her face, Of the scent.

It was hers. Now that I focused on it, there was no mistaking it.

It wasn’t overwhelming. It wasn’t aggressive.

Just… warm.

“You shouldn’t be here,” the High Witch said sharply.

The girl didn’t move.

“I know.”

Her voice was controlled, but not entirely steady. There was tension there—contained, deliberate. It was not hard to notice shè was nervous.

She stepped forward anyway.

A mistake.

Several members of the council shifted, subtle but ready. Magic gathered at the edges of the room, quiet and watchful.

Still, she didn’t stop.

“I need to speak,” she said.

“This is not your place,” someone replied.

She ignored it. Instead, she looked directly at me.

The look shè gave me was daring.

Something tightened. She’s interesting for sure.

“I’m not here for the council,” she said. “I’m here for you.”

The room reacted before I did.

“That’s enough,” the High Witch snapped. “You will leave—”

“If nothing changes,” the girl continued, her voice cutting through the interruption, “this ends in blood.”

Silence followed, Completely this time.

She didn’t look away.

Didn’t falter Whatever fear she carried, she kept it under control.

Impressive.

“And you know this how?” someone demanded.

A pause.

Then, quietly, “Because I’ve seen it.”

I studied her more carefully now.

There was nothing outwardly remarkable about her. No visible power. No obvious threat.

And yet— the room had changed around her.

“Explain,” I said.

She took a breath, as if steadying herself.

“I can’t prove it,” she admitted. “But I know how this ends if you walk away from this room without an agreement.”

“And your solution?” I asked.

Another pause.

Then— “I take her place.”

Confusion flickered across several faces.

She clarified without looking away from me.

“The marriage,” she said. “If that’s what binds the truce, then I’ll do it.”

The reaction was expected.

“You don’t have the authority—” “This isn’t negotiable—”

“Remove her—” The voices overlapped, rising sharply.

I remained where I was.

Watching. Waiting. She didn’t flinch.

Didn’t retreat. Despite everything, That alone set her apart.

Slowly, I stood.

The room quieted.

I stepped forward, closing part of the distance between us.

Not close enough to touch.

Close enough to see clearly.

“You’re offering yourself,” I said.

“Yes.”

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

Either she was reckless—or she understood more than she was saying.

“You understand the implications,” I continued.

“I do.”

A lie.

For a moment, neither of us spoke, Then I made my decision.

“Very well.” The words landed cleanly.

Final. Shock rippled through the room. “You can’t be serious—” “This is unacceptable—” “It changes nothing—”

I ignored all of it. My attention remained on her.

On the quiet steadiness she maintained, even now.

“Your name,” I said.

A brief hesitation.

Then— “Aria.”

I nodded once. “Then it’s settled.”

And just like that— the course of the city shifted.