THE ASHWOOD LEGACY

THE SUMMONS

Chapter 11 — The Summons

The letter arrived by courier at nine in the morning, sealed with Crimson Hollow's crest in dark red wax, and Elena stared at it on her desk for a full ten minutes before she found the nerve to open it.

By order of the Crimson Hollow Council, Elena Marsh is hereby summoned for formal bloodline verification, pursuant to ancient ritual law predating the current pack charter...

"Absolutely not." Sable read over her shoulder, her voice sharp with alarm. "El, do you understand what a verification ritual actually is? It's not a DNA test. It's old magic, blood magic, and if your body isn't ready for whatever it's supposed to confirm, it can kill you. I've heard the stories."

"I know what it is." Elena set the letter down, her hands steadier than she felt. Kade's words from two nights ago hadn't left her — an Ashwood royal bloodline, believed extinct for a century — and neither had the dream, the crown of moonlight pulling closer every night like something counting down.

"Then you know you should refuse. Walk away from Ravenshade entirely. Go back to pretending none of this pack business exists." Sable's voice cracked slightly. "You built a whole life without them, El. You don't owe Crimson Hollow anything."

"I don't think I get to walk away from this one, Sable." Elena picked the letter back up, reading the summons a second time. "If what Kade said is true — if I really am some kind of lost bloodline — then ignoring it doesn't make it go away. It just means I find out what I am from someone who might not have my best interests in mind."

"And you think the people who rejected you three years ago have your best interests in mind?"

Elena didn't have an answer for that.

She called the number listed at the bottom of the summons that afternoon, and was patched through, unexpectedly, directly to Damian.

"You shouldn't have to do this alone," he said, before she'd even stated her purpose for calling, like he'd been waiting by the phone.

"I'm not doing anything alone. I have a legal team and a company with more resources than your entire council chamber." Her voice came out sharper than she intended, three years of practiced composure fraying slightly at the edges just from hearing his voice on the line. "I'll agree to the verification. On one condition."

"Name it."

"You guarantee my safety personally. Not the council. Not your mother. You, standing in that circle, taking responsibility for whatever happens to me during that ritual." She let the silence stretch, satisfaction curling through her at the audible way his breath caught on the other end of the line. "You put your name on the line the way you should have three years ago, or I don't walk into that clearing at all."

The pause that followed was long enough that she almost thought he'd hung up.

"Done," he said finally, his voice low and rough. "I'll guarantee it personally. In front of the full council, if that's what it takes."

"It is."

"Elena—"

"Friday," she said, cutting him off before he could say whatever else was clearly sitting on the edge of his voice. "I'll be there Friday. Have the council ready."

She hung up before he could respond, her hand trembling slightly as she set the phone down — not from fear, she told herself, but from the sheer, dizzying force of hearing her own name in his voice again after three years of silence.

Sable found her still sitting there twenty minutes later, phone dark on the table, staring at nothing.

"You agreed," Sable said, reading the answer off her face before Elena said a word. "Of course you did. You've never once in your life taken the easy way out of anything."

"Someone has to hold him to it," Elena said. "If he's going to guarantee my safety, I want it public. In front of the council. Where he can't quietly walk it back later if it becomes politically inconvenient."

"And if it goes wrong anyway? If the ritual is more than your body can handle?"

Elena didn't have an answer for that, not one she trusted herself to say out loud without her voice shaking, so she said nothing at all, and Sable, understanding exactly what that silence meant, pulled her into a hug instead of pushing further.

"Friday," Sable said finally, quietly. "Whatever happens Friday, I'm not leaving your side. Not this time."