"You failed to seize his corpse!"
Mistress Lily stands before the council, her head bowed, as the weight of failure bears down on her. The air in the hall is thick with tension, each council member exchanging sharp looks and hushed murmurs. The news of their botched mission spreads like wildfire, forcing an emergency meeting to contain the fallout.
"How could you fail such an easy task?" Rose demands, her piercing gaze locked on Lady Marv.
"An easy task?" Lady Marv retorts, her voice dripping with disdain. "If it was so easy, why didn't you handle it yourself?"
Rose's expression hardens, but she doesn't respond. Marv's words are deliberate, their sting aimed at Rose's crippled legs, bound to a chair since the fateful battle years ago, the battle with the prophesied child that left her unable to walk.
Paul, ever the devoted mate, rises from his seat, his voice firm. "I won't let you speak to my wife like that."
"And what exactly will you do?" Marv sneers, folding her arms.
"Enough," Steffen's cold, commanding tone cuts through the bickering. His presence silences the room, his piercing gaze demanding answers. "I want to know what happened. All of it."
Mistress Lily takes a shaky breath, her voice steady despite the tension. "We managed to capture the Sun Witch and defeated Teslime, but... we lost his corpse."
Steffen's eyes narrow, a flicker of danger sparking behind them. "How?"
The voice on the other end wavers. "We were attacked... by Sheba."
The name drops into the room like a blade, slicing through the air. For a heartbeat, no one speaks, then a collective gasp ripples through the silence.
Steffen's fists curl at his sides, his knuckles bleaching white. Sheba. The sound of it rattles through his head, impossible, wrong. He'd seen her die. He'd watched her fall. There had been no mistaking it, no chance of survival.
"Sheba," Paul breathes, his face pale with disbelief. "That can't be. She died. I saw her fall with my own eyes. There's no way she could've lived."
But Steffen doesn't answer. His mind is already racing, dredging up every memory of her cunning grin, her voice laced with venom and charm. Sheba was never ordinary. She was an East Witch, one who drew her strength from illusion and deceit, bending truth itself when it suited her.
If anyone could cheat death... it would be her.
He exhales slowly, jaw tightening. But why now?
The hall falls into uneasy silence as the weight of Sheba's return looms over them like a storm cloud, threatening everything they hold dear.
"Everyone leave. Lily, stay." Steffen's voice brooks no argument. Feet shuffle, then hurry; the room empties in a rush of cloth and clipped apologies. In seconds the echo of the door closing leaves only the two of them and a cold, expectant quiet.
"Sheba has revealed herself after all these years," Steffen says, the words low and dark. "What does she want?"
Lily's hands fold around each other, knuckles whitening. "I can't say for sure," she answers, voice steady but small. "But she didn't come back by accident. If she's been hiding all this time, there's a reason, and that reason is dangerous."
Steffen's jaw tightens; memories rise like a bitter tide. Her voice returns to him, slick with malice and remembered pain:
"I'll bring you down, Steffen. I'll make you pay for betraying our father."
Tears had streamed down her face then, her hands still wet with the blood of those she'd slain.
The words hang between them, a promise and a threat braided into one. Steffen lets out a breath that tastes of iron. Outside, the house seems to hold its breath with him, waiting to see whether the storm will break or simply circle closer.
Unlike him, Sheba had embraced their father's reign and his vision of supreme dominion. She had stood beside King Lycaon, her body a shield for him during Steffen's rebellion. She had fought valiantly, her loyalty unshaken, even as Steffen led the charge that ended their father's reign.
When King Lycaon fell, Sheba vowed vengeance. She swore to bring their father back. Her reappearance now could mean only one thing, she plans to fulfill that oath.
"Have his grave checked," Steffen orders, his voice sharp. "If his body is still there, double the guards."
"A century ago, you entrusted his body to my people for safekeeping," Lily reminds him. "It's hidden in the sacred grounds of the White Witches. No one can reach it there."
"I want to believe that," Steffen says, his jaw tightening. "But we both know what Sheba is capable of. If she's after Lycaon's body, I can't take any chances. We have to ensure she never gets to it. The world cannot survive if she succeeds."
Sheba is no longer just a threat, she is a fanatic, a puppet shaped by their father's twisted ideology. She worships him, blind to the destruction he caused.
"I'll make sure she never lays a hand on his body," Lily vows.
Steffen nods but shifts his focus. "And Teslime's body. What do you think she wants with it?"
Lily pauses, considering. "An army," she says finally.
Steffen's expression darkens further. "An army."
It makes sense. Teslime had once been his beta, his most trusted ally. Sheba wouldn't risk herself simply for information. No, she has a far more sinister goal. With her powers, she could resurrect Teslime and rally rogue wolves to her side, preparing for war.
"Whatever her plan is," Steffen says, his voice hard, leaving no room for argument, "we have to stop her before she can put it into motion."
Lily hesitates, glancing at him. "Also... Sheba is the head of the Organization."
The words hit like a hammer to his chest. His breath catches, and a cold spike shoots through his veins. Thoughts collide, fragments of long-hidden truths tumbling together. The picture they form is darker, far more dangerous, than he could have imagined.
Could Sheba have sent Ella to him? Is she using her... manipulating her?
Even the hint of a possibility claws at him. He can't ignore it. He has to know. He has to hear the answers straight from Ella's own lips.
....
Elsewhere in the castle, the corridors feel colder, the shadows longer. Ella moves with quiet purpose, unaware that someone has been watching her movements with sharp, calculating eyes.
Before she can take another step, a hand slams the nearest door shut, the echo bouncing off the stone walls like a warning. Balu stands framed in the doorway, her gaze sharp and unrelenting, a storm barely contained behind her narrowed eyes. Suspicion coils around her like a living thing, refusing to let go of the doubts she harbors about Ella's intentions toward Steffen.
"Care to explain why you're here?" Balu demands, her voice cutting through the silence.
Ella doesn't reply . With a flick of her wrist and a confident step, she pushes past Balu and strides into the room, her every movement daring Balu to stop her.
Balu, refusing to be dismissed, follows, her heels clicking sharply against the stone floor. Each step is deliberate, each glance loaded with suspicion and challenge. The air between them crackles, thick with unspoken threats and the friction of two wills colliding.
By the time they reach the center of the room, the tension has settled into a taut, unbreakable cord. Ella turns to face Balu, calm and unshaken, while Balu finally squares herself, fists clenched at her sides, every inch of her ready to confront what she cannot yet control.
"You know you shouldn't be here," Balu says, voice low but edged with danger.
Ella smiles faintly, stepping closer, fearless. "And yet, here I am."
"What are you doing in Steffen's room?" Balu snaps again, her irritation cutting through the air like a blade.
Ella turns slowly to face her, unshaken, every movement deliberate. "Why don't you ask Steffen?" she replies, her tone icy, steady. "He might have the answer you're looking for." Her hand curls into a fist at her side, but her expression betrays nothing, calm, controlled, and unflinching.
"Don't play games with me." Balu's voice is hard now, edged with a long-simmering anger. "Don't you dare forget our deal. You stay away from Steffen, or else."
A smile lifts one corner of Ella's mouth, half mockery, half dare. She steps forward until the space between them is all heat and quiet. "Or else what, Balu?" she asks, voice soft but sharp. "What exactly are you going to do?"
Balu's jaw tightens; for a heartbeat her resolve trembles. Ella doesn't give her time to recover. "Look," Ella continues, unblinking, "I like your energy. Really. But you're not in a position to threaten me. If you want me out of Steffen's life, then do the thing you promised: get me what I asked for."
The words land like a gauntlet. Balu's expression flickers, anger, doubt, the calculating mind of someone weighing her next move. "You know that's not an easy task," she admits, her voice quieter than usual, betraying a crack in her armor.
Ella's smirk deepens, but there's steel behind it. And staying away from Steffen isn't easy for me either," Ella counters, her tone mockingly light. She leans in just enough to make her next words sting. "You want to know why I'm in his room? He asked me to stay. With him. And you know exactly what that means."
Balu stiffens, but Ella presses on, her voice dipping into teasing provocation. "I can only imagine what would've happened if I hadn't stopped his hands from exploring further. He wanted to... you know."
"You..!!" Balu hisses, fists clenching, knuckles whitening. "I dare you to say that again."
Ella's smirk deepens, clearly relishing Balu's growing frustration. She knows exactly how to twist the knife. "I'm his mate, Balu. What do you expect? It's only a matter of time before I open my legs for him. But all of that can be avoided, if you get me what I want."
The tension in the room is palpable, a thick, suffocating air of anger and jealousy. It's abruptly cut short when the door swings open, and John steps in.
"Balu? Ella?" John's voice is laced with suspicion as his eyes dart between the two women. "What are you two doing in Steffen's room?"
"I'm in here because Steffen asked me to," Ella says casually, leaning against the edge of the bed. "The whole mate thing is getting out of control, I guess."
John's voice cracks as he responds, the irritation clear despite his effort to hide it. "The two of you... stay in here?"
Ella notices the tension in his clenched fists, his knuckles turning red. She can sense his displeasure, though he tries to mask it. There's a possessiveness in his tone, one she doesn't need to address, he knows she belongs to Steffen, not him.
"We only share a bed. Nothing more," she clarifies, her voice calm but firm. For reasons she can't fully explain, she feels the need to reassure him. Maybe it's because she sees John as a buddy, though it's obvious he sees her as something more. But that's not her problem to solve.
Ella turns her attention to Balu, her gaze sharp. "What about you, Balu? Why are you in Steffen's room?"
Balu hesitates, her composure faltering under Ella's scrutiny. "I... I came to look for Steffen," she says, her words dragging out with forced ease. Relief washes over her face as she delivers the lie. She can't let it slip that she's here because of Ella, or worse, that she's trying to push Ella out of Steffen's life to claim him for herself. If Steffen found out, it would ruin everything.
"Forget me," Balu snaps, deflecting. "What are you doing here, John?"
John opens his mouth to respond, but the door swings open again. This time, it's Steffen. His presence fills the room, the air growing heavier as his gaze sweeps over them.
John stiffens immediately, his body tensing under the weight of his King's scrutiny. Steffen's expression is unreadable, but his eyes are sharp, dark with unspoken authority.
"Both of you. Out," Steffen commands, his tone brooking no argument. His eyes lock briefly on John, then Balu, before settling on Ella.
"Steffen.." Balu starts, but she's cut off before she can say more.
"Out!!" he repeats, his voice rising with dominance.
Neither John nor Balu dares to object further. They exchange uneasy glances before quickly exiting the room, the door shutting firmly behind them.
Steffen strides toward Ella, his gaze never leaving her. The intensity in his eyes sends a chill through her, but she stands her ground.
"Are you an agent of the Organization?" he asks, his voice low but laced with accusation.