CHAPTER ELEVEN: The Gathering Storm
Cassandra
The first sign that everything had gone wrong was the knock on her door.
It wasn’t Bosco’s usual quiet signal, or Maxwell’s gentle tap. It was a firm, deliberate pounding that carried authority.
Cassandra froze where she stood, Jay’s breakfast spoon slipping from her hand.
The door swung open before she could move.
Two Council enforcers stepped in, black coats, insignias gleaming silver under the morning light.
“Cassandra Wells,” the first one said sharply. “You are requested for questioning before the Central Council. Immediate compliance required.”
Her throat dried.
“On what grounds?”
The enforcer’s gaze didn’t waver. “Fraudulent identity, concealment of heritage, and suspected violation of lineage decrees.”
She felt her pulse thun
