Alliance of Shadows, Book 5: LEIF

The Sorcerer’s Stand

Arriving at the grasslands where the others were already waiting, I saw Dreson smirk as his eyes travelled the length of my body. I’d donned my traditional robes in my chosen deep green and midnight blue colours—shades that always felt like home, steady and grounded.

"I almost wish I could have woken you up this morning," he murmured as he kissed me. Pulling back, he gave me a smouldering look. "Did you eat?"

"Um..." I replied, trying to look innocent.

Kaden handed me a takeaway bag and a steaming coffee with a grin. "Got you covered. Scones from the bakery back home and your favourite hazelnut roast."

Playfully, I glared at Kaden and resisted the urge to flip him off with the kids watching. Instead, I pulled a move straight from his playbook.

"I guess Dre an’ I are gonna have te call Izzy te set ye straight, huh? She’s yer Luna, after all," I said slyly.

He flushed, his dark skin taking on a reddish hue. "Leave my cousin out of this."

Laughter rippled through the small crowd. The doorway to the Sage Tower shimmered open, light pulsing through it as Uncle Harper stepped into view. The weight of guilt and regret on his face made it clear—he’d read my papers too.

Dreson grabbed my hand and sighed. "I'll ask for a few moments to allow you to eat. I don't want you passing out."

His thumb traced slow circles across the back of my hand just as my stomach let out a low, traitorous growl. Laughing, I dug into the bag as Celestia made her way over to us.

"Still going through with this?" She asked, her tone motherly and concerned. I’d nearly cried the first time she called me one of her pups, the feeling of belonging was strong enough to make me glad Uncle Harper lied and brought Dreson to the towers early.

I nodded, sipping the hot drink. "I have te. For all th’ children that’ve suffered ‘cause o’ these monsters—for me own kids—I have te put an end te this."

"You've got a good heart, baby. Don't let them walk over you, okay?" she said, wrapping me up in a firm, grounding hug. “For all the hell you’ve walked through, you earned your place a long time ago.”

Returning the gesture, I glanced over at Rowan. He looked tired, shadows beneath his eyes, jaw tight, but he nodded at me. Quiet reassurance. The trial was already leaning in my favour. He walked over, gradually raising his hand as he approached.

“Leif, how are you this morning?” he asked.

Thinking about it for a moment, I allowed myself a moment to really feel my emotions. Then, “Shockingly calm.”

“That’s likely because you know you have a support system that loves you the way you are. I don’t expect perfection because it’s a falsity. Perfection lives in the eye of the beholder, but not everyone is looking at the same piece of art. After this, things will settle for a while, but I’d like you and Dreson to go to couples counselling for a while to really work through this,” he said, the request hanging in the air between us.

Casting my gaze to the swaying grass of the rolling meadow, I nodded. “There be no more secrets between Dre and me. Not anymore, Rowan, but if it eases yer mind, then I concur with the therapy request.”

Walking into the Tower with my head held high, I calmly took my seat next to Dreson and settled Conner on my knee. Heather climbed into Dre's lap and hugged him tight. Glancing toward the other side of the room, I remembered the last time we were here—when Dre was fighting to stop his bullies.

Bullies that were now friends.

Someone snickered, and I turned to see the ageing face of George McDillard staring at me. "Who thought it were a good idea lettin’ that muppet have a kiddie?"

Rowan shot him a glare as he walked up to the head table. "Silence, all of you. Beneath my very nose was a ring of the most heinous people who enjoyed hurting innocent children. They still enjoy it, actually."

His voice rang out, firm and clear. My eyes drifted to the accused’s side, landing on my parents—both of them eyeing my children like they had any right to look.

Pulling Conner closer, I shifted him to my other knee and whispered that everything was going to be okay, that he didn’t need to be scared.

Loud enough for everyone to hear, my precious four-year-old suddenly said, "I know. I’ll protect you, Papa."

Heather beamed up at Dreson. "Can we get ice cream when this is over, Daddy?"

Dreson nodded. "Of course we can, sweetheart. Now sit still and don’t make a sound, okay? It’s time to play the quiet game."

"Okay, Daddy." Both kids replied in unison. They instantly fell silent.

Allow me to explain: the quiet game was something Dreson and I came up with to calm the kids when they were too hyper to sleep or sit still. At the end of the game, the winner got to pick dessert or the bedtime story for the night. The kids loved the gentle competition, and we loved how it helped keep them close rather than pulling away from each other.

Smiling over at us, Rowan continued, "A few years ago, I made room in my heart and my home for my son's Mate. Just a few months ago, they adopted two children. This week, Seamus McDillard decided to unleash my wrath and lure my grandson with the intent to kidnap."

George's s**t-eating grin fell clean off his face as he stared at the spot where Rowan was sitting. He realized—too late—that he was in the presence of the Druid High King.

Beside Rowan, seated straight-backed on the shared throne with her head held high and a simple gold-leaf crown resting on her brow, was Celestia. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap. Though she wore a bored look, there was a fire burning behind her dark eyes. The kind that said she was done holding back.

She was the mama wolf, calm and coiled, ready to strike. The truest embodiment of “eff around and find out” when it came to her pups, and the grandpups she claimed just as fiercely. She knew how to play the long game, made an art out of it, and always won.

The absolute ruler, a powerhouse of strength and grace under pressure.

"I'll not bow fer a King who lets savage people such as she te take the Queen's throne," my father said.

Celestia’s icy smile could have frozen over hell. Her gaze snapped to my sire, sharp and surgical. Behind her amber-brown eyes, the thrill of the hunt glinted. Her wolf lingered just beneath the surface of a calm honed over years of being underestimated.

“I’m well-trained in how to shut people like you up,” she replied coolly. “Kaden, be a darling and cast Veritas over the entire building, will you?”

"As you wish, Mother." Kaden’s eyes glittered with glee as he slipped effortlessly into formal decorum. “I must advise everyone: my version of Veritas causes your body to heat up until you answer truthfully… or boil from the inside out. Still want me to proceed?”

"You got this, baby bro. Time to show them who they messed with," Dreson said, grinning.

Kaden growled softly, then nodded. A split second later, the air shifted—an icy calm settling over the chamber like a hush before thunder.

The kids shivered. Rayna moved instantly, abandoning her stance to cross the room. She slipped off her deerskin cloak and wrapped it around the children, offering them a quiet, apologetic smile. Then, without a glance toward the woman who stared at her in shock, she returned to her seat.

With a composure that spoke of a decision long settled, she curtseyed deeply and said, “My sincerest apologies, Your Majesties.”

"I appreciate how you thought of the children’s needs above your own, Sage Rayna," Celestia said. “Be seated.”

She turned to the room.

"What I won't let slide," Celestia continued, her voice ironclad, "is that my son-in-law remains the only living victim of the degradation he suffered at the hands of McDillard and his friends. I now have written testimony, spoken accounts, and the firsthand words of a child who was recently targeted."

Rayna rose again. She approached me quietly, her voice low enough only those closest could hear. “It’s time, Conner. Come te Auntie.”

He lifted his arms to her without hesitation. She carried him to the high-backed chair at the chamber's center and stayed with him, one steady hand on his shoulder.

Raising her voice, she addressed the entire room: “This brave, sweet liddle boy was nearly taken by a man who used 'is powers te trick 'im into leavin' the safety of 'is parents' home. Sweetie, can yeh tell everyone yer name?”

“Conner A-Ashwell… but now I’m Conner R-Robertsson-Cage,” he answered, voice quaking.

Rayna smiled and knelt beside him, eyes soft but unwavering. “Did you want te leave home with that man, Conner?”

“No, but h-he said he was t-taking me to s-s-see my mommy,” my boy sobbed. “I forgot… I forgot my mommy died. But my sissy saved me. I got hurted, but Heaver kept me safe.”

Rayna’s gaze didn’t waver. “Is the man tha’ tried te take yeh here?”

Conner looked around slowly until his eyes found Seamus. He froze. Then he shook, small hands trembling, one finger lifting as he pointed. “T-that’s t-the bad Shadow Man.”

Rayna’s smile faded into something sorrowful and tender. “I see,” she said gently. “An’ does he scare yeh, luv?”

“Y-yeah,” Conner whimpered. His stutter grew worse, heavy with fear and exhaustion. “C-can I g-go back t-to my Papa now?”

She nodded and helped him down from the chair. The moment his feet touched stone, he bolted straight into my arms. I caught him mid-leap as he buried his face against my chest, trembling.

“Papa, I’m scared,” he cried. “Don’t let him take me.”

“Nay, me sweet boyo. Yer safe,” I whispered as I wrapped my arms around him and held him like I’d never let go. His fear was too real to be an act.