The grand chamber of the Council Hall stood silent, the history it held pressing against its ancient stone walls. This was where great decisions had been made—where wars had been declared, where treaties had been signed, where the fate of supernatural beings had been decided for centuries.
Tonight, it would bear witness to another dark revelation.
Adgar, the thousand-year-old vampire, sat at the head of the obsidian table, his crimson eyes scanning the faces of the Alphas and Elders gathered before him. Silas Blackwood, Alphas all the strongest Packs, the High Elder Witches, the Vampire Lords—all present for one reason.
The return of the Viona Witches.
The silence was thick, only broken by the low crackling of the enchanted torches lining the walls. Then Adgar finally spoke, his voice
