Chapter 17: Cordella
1089 Words
Cordella
I was sweating.
Actually, sweating in my silk blouse, which was enchanted to repel both heat and bad energy—so this was clearly a me problem.
Piper gave me a sidelong glance as we sat at the long, crescent-shaped table carved from reclaimed moonwood, surrounded by the High Ten and the elders, every face expectant, serious, and somehow more judgmental than usual.
This is it, I thought, stomach lurching. This is the meeting where they find out I violated the treaty. That I crossed into wolf territory, threw a tantrum in the Alpha’s office, and let him..
Goddess.
I could barely breathe, let alone sit still.
Calliope sat at the head of the table like a carved statue of divine wrath—regal, timeless, deadly. Her silver cuffs shimmered faintly in the enchanted light. And me?
I sat beside her. Like I wasn’t one breath away from spontaneous combustion under the weight of my own guilt.
She began to speak, voice calm and commanding, and I braced myself for impact.
But it wasn’t about me. At least—not yet.
“This petition,” she said, sliding a formal scroll onto the table, “is being drafted to prevent any further development in the historical district. We’ve allowed humans and their bulldozers to chip away at our sacred spaces for far too long.”
I blinked. My brow furrowed.
Wait. What?
“We will call upon the council for protection. Our traditions, our land, our history—none of it should be for sale. This district was built with magic woven into its foundation. It is not meant to become a wolf-run shopping plaza or high-rise condominium complex.”
Oh. That’s why we were here.
I felt my entire body go cold. She didn’t know.
She didn’t know I’d broken the treaty. Didn’t know I’d marched into Blue Co. and gone full unhinged. Didn’t know I’d been bent over a wolf’s desk and come apart like a woman starved.
She didn’t know any of it.
She just thought I’d lost the shop.
That I’d failed.
The High Ten murmured their agreement as she rolled out the map and pointed to the zones already under construction. Not even looking at me.
Because of course she thought the shop was gone. She never saw it as an accomplishment. Just a hobby. A pretty little distraction until I took over as Alter and put my degree to use at the university like a proper witch daughter should.
But I hadn’t lost the shop. I still had it.
Because Heston Blue made sure of that.
He didn’t bulldoze me out. He locked in my lease, upgraded the plumbing, and guaranteed protections in the contract Mr. Benson had been too afraid to explain to her. He did what she didn’t even know I needed.
And suddenly I didn’t know what burned hotter:
The shame. The guilt. Or the sick, inconvenient thread of gratitude tangled with something far, far more dangerous.
Because my mother was declaring magical war to protect what I still had. And I wasn’t sure if I could keep lying much longer.
The meeting dispersed like smoke—slow and tense and heavy with unspoken things. No one noticed the way I lingered in my chair, hands white-knuckled in my lap. No one but her.
Calliope didn’t look at me when she stood, her silver cuffs clinking together like chains. But I knew she was waiting.
She always waited. For me to fall in line.
Not tonight.
I followed her out into the stone hallway outside the council chamber, the thick walls humming faintly with protective wards. Her shoulders were stiff, her hair pinned perfectly into a tight bun that felt more like armor than style.
“You really expect me to believe,” I started, voice low but sharp, “that this petition just magically became a priority the minute you assumed my shop was gone?”
She turned slowly, brows raised, eyes cold. “Your shop was stolen by those dogs. Forgive me for wanting to protect what’s left of our land.”
My jaw clenched. “My shop’s not gone.”
She blinked.
It was the only crack she let show.
“I’m still there. Blue Co. didn’t demolish it. In fact—they locked me into a contract. Protected it. Renovated it.” My voice rose. “But it’s funny, isn’t it? You never cared about it until you thought it was destroyed. You never saw it as anything but a phase. A distraction. Something to keep me busy until I finally—what? Put my degree to use? Taught at the university? Became you?”
Calliope’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You’re twisting this.”
“No,” I snapped. “I’m finally untwisting it.”
She took a slow breath, too calm. Too deliberate.
“It’s time you stopped playing shopkeeper and stepped into your future,” she said coolly. “You’ll begin assisting Sandra with fall courses. Introductory Magical Theory. You’ll make a fine professor.”
“I’m not doing that,” I said, voice flat.
“Cordella—”
“I said no.”
Her mouth set in a sharp, bloodless line. Then she turned on her heel and stormed off, heels echoing down the hall like a judgment.
Breathe.
I leaned back against the cold stone, eyes fluttering shut.
One second.That’s all I needed.
But of course—I didn’t get it. A second set of footsteps followed.
“Rough night?” Sandra’s voice was syrupy sweet, and I nearly jumped.
She stood too close. Smiled too politely.
“I heard about your building,” she said softly, brushing imaginary lint from her robe. “Glad to know it’s still standing. That’s... surprising, considering the Alpha involved.”
My spine snapped straight. “It’s business. Nothing more.”
“Of course,” she said, tilting her head. “Though I’ve been wondering… how close does a witch have to get for a wolf to offer protection like that?”
My heart thudded.
Hard.
I gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Maybe they’re just scared of what happens when a witch gets pissed off.”
She laughed. Light and fake. “Right. Of course.”
Then she walked away, her robes swaying, her silence trailing behind her like a curse.
And I—
I ran.
Back to my apartment, past the wards, heart racing and hands shaking.
Because she knew something.
And I wasn’t sure how long my secrets could hold.
- Writer
