From within, Marlowe withdrew a wooden box inlaid with silver. The familiar spiral pattern decorated its lid, matching Elara's pendant perfectly.
"This box has been in pack keeping for over two centuries," Marlowe explained, placing it reverently on the desk. "Since the end of the Blood War between werewolves and Sirens. It contains one of only three known copies of the Siren Codex."
"The book Cora mentioned," Elara said, recalling their conversation in the forest. "About Siren history."
Marlowe's eyebrows rose slightly. "Cora has been informative, I see." She glanced at the younger woman, who met her gaze steadily. "Yes, the Codex contains Siren history. But it is much more. It is their power. Their magic. Their bloodlines. All preserved in a time when they faced extinction."
With careful hands, Marlowe unlocked the box, using the same key that had opened the cabinet. As the lid lifted, a faint humming filled the air. A sound at the very edge of hearing, more felt than heard. Elara's pendant responded immediately, growing warmer against her skin.
Inside lay a book unlike any Elara had ever seen. Its cover appeared to be made of iridescent scales that shifted color with the light. Blues. Greens. Purples. And silvers swirling together in hypnotic patterns. The spiral symbol of her pendant was embossed in the center, larger and more elaborate than her simplified version.
"Is that?" Elara could not finish the question. Transfixed by the beautiful and alien object.
"Siren scales," Marlowe confirmed. "Freely given by the royal bloodlines for the creation of the Codex. Virtually indestructible. Resistant to fire, water, and time itself."
The pendant at Elara's throat grew hotter still. Pulsing with an inner heat that should have been uncomfortable but somehow was not. It felt right, as if the pendant were awakening after a long sleep.
"Before I show you what lies within," Marlowe said, her tone grave, "you must understand the context. The history that has been forgotten by humans and deliberately obscured by some supernatural factions."
Elara nodded, unable to tear her gaze from the shimmering Codex.
"Contrary to human myths, Sirens were not malevolent creatures who lured sailors to their deaths," Marlowe began. "They were guardians of the balance between human and supernatural realms. Their voices could command, yes, but also heal. They could incite fear, but also courage. They were peacekeepers."
Cora shifted in her seat, leaning forward with interest. Elara realized that perhaps this was new information for her as well.
"For centuries, Sirens maintained alliances with other supernatural beings, including werewolves," Marlowe continued. "The most powerful Siren bloodlines, the royal lines, had a special connection to Alpha werewolves. Their voices resonated at frequencies that could calm the most savage wolf or enhance an Alpha's natural power."
"Like what happened when I sang at the pub," Elara said softly. "Damon's wolf responded to my voice."
Marlowe's eyes sharpened. "Yes, precisely. That connection was the foundation of the alliance between our kinds. Alphas protected Sirens. And Sirens helped Alphas maintain control over their more volatile pack members."
She gestured to an ancient map hanging on the wall, yellowed with age. "But approximately two hundred years ago, something changed. A werewolf Alpha named Alaric Stone discovered that a Siren's voice could be used not just to calm or enhance, but to transfer power during a specific celestial event."
"The Blood Moon," Elara finished, recalling what Damon had told her about Viktor's plans.
"Yes." Marlowe looked impressed. "Alaric captured a Siren of royal blood and forced her to participate in a ritual during the Blood Moon. He sought to absorb the power of neighboring Alphas. To create a super pack under his sole control."
"Viktor Stone," Elara said, making the connection. "He is a descendant?"
"The last of Alaric's bloodline," Marlowe confirmed. "The Stone pack has carried this obsession through generations, seeking to complete what Alaric began."
"What happened to the captured Siren?" Cora asked.
Marlowe's expression darkened. "She was killed during the ritual. But not before she managed to use the last of her power to curse Alaric's line. Ensuring that while they might gain power, they would never keep it for long. Since then, the Stone pack has been plagued by unstable Alphas and power struggles."
"And the Blood War?" Elara prompted.
"Began when Sirens sought revenge for their murdered princess," Marlowe said. "They allied with several werewolf packs who opposed Alaric's power grab, including the ancestors of the Crescent Moon Pack. But the Stone pack had already spread lies about Sirens to many others, claiming they were attempting to enslave all werewolves."
She sighed, the weight of history heavy in her voice. "The war lasted five years. Many died on both sides. And when it ended. Most Sirens had been hunted to near extinction. Those who survived went into hiding. Integrating with humans. Suppressing their powers. Passing as ordinary people. The royal bloodlines were thought to be completely extinguished."
Elara's hand went to her pendant. "Until now."
"Until you," Marlowe agreed. "That pendant marks you as a descendant of the most powerful Siren bloodline. The Lyra line. The royal line that had the strongest connection to werewolf Alphas."