In truth, his own actions surprised Lysander, too. It was only this morning that his spies had reported to him about last night’s vampire attack on Misty and Domenico in the Midways, and never had he been filled with so much fear.

Could this be what those damn fools were talking about? Was he f**king in love? Lysander still wasn’t sure, but all he was certain of was that he had been so f**king afraid for Misty.

He cupped her face, his voice uneven as he asked, “Are you all right, my pretty?”

She had forgotten how beautiful Lysander was. This close to him, it was hard not to feel a little dazzled, especially with the way his eyes were shining. “I’m okay,” she stammered.

“You must never leave this realm again without me, Misty.”

The way Lysander kept staring at Misty started to make her feel uncomfortable, and something nagged at her. “It’s okay, Lysander. I’m okay. I was with Domenico.”

His lips compressed. “And look at how well he had protected you!”

She stiffened. “Lysander, he had protected me!”

“There wouldn’t have been any trouble if he hadn’t made you leave our realm in the first place,” he snarled.

Misty pushed away. “Why are you acting like this?”

Misty’s words acted like a bucket of cold water, and Lysander was silently aghast at how much he had allowed his disguise to slip. “I’m sorry,” he managed to say. “I was only truly worried about you. After losing my family in the Great War, you are the first person I cared for that I had almost lost again.”

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His words melted her anger right away. How could she have forgotten how much Lysander had suffered because of the Great War? Rushing back to him, she tiptoed to give her friend a quick heartfelt hug. “I’m sorry, too. I’m just really troubled…” Misty pulled away. “I have something urgent to tell the High Circle, Lysander. And I need your support.”

Lysander did not want to deny Misty anything, and he would have readily given her anything…but this. “I will do the best I can.” He could see that he had disappointed Misty, but he did not take the words back.

His race was still his first priority because Lysander owed the realm his life.

~~~

The High Circle was unlike the Brethren or the Lyccan Council. Whereas both Caros and Lyccans selected their leaders on the basis of their power and ability to lead, it appeared as if the High Circle relied on the strength of their members’ blood. It was an oligarchy of sorts, wherein only those with the purest lineage could reign.

And of course that made the High Circle a f**king mess in Domenico’s opinion.

Personally, he had nothing against purebloods. He was one himself, with the Moretti pack one of the oldest in Lyccan history. But that did not mean Domenico consider purebloods perfect. The Fiarinos’ lineage was as pure and ancient as his was, but that pack had already produced two traitors to their race.

Domenico stood at the edge of the room, positioning himself in such a way that he would be close enough to protect Misty from any threat while at the same time being able to observe the entire room. He could see that his presence made some of the members edgy, and he couldn’t blame them. The Faeries had existed in isolation for so long that their lives had bred xenophobic tendencies among them.

And that of course was another f**king bomb waiting to explode on them.

No race could ever exist alone. Domenico could only hope that the Faeries would not need to survive another Great War to learn that.

Magenta walked to the center of the circle, raising her hand for silence. “We have been called here to listen to Misty Wall.” She gestured to Misty.

Domenico’s heart swelled with pride as he watched Misty walk slowly and gracefully to where Magenta stood, with not even a flicker of fear in her eyes as she gazed at the members one by one.

Her voice didn’t even shake as she recounted the attack they had survived last night, even as the Faeries gasped and whispered among themselves. Domenico studied every member’s attention, not ruling out the possibility that one of them could have been behind the attack.

Lysander and Milo’s faces were inscrutable. Ivory’s was filled with horror while Magenta had a concentrated frown on her face.

“And now…” Misty took a deep breath. Telling them what happened to her and Domenico was the easy part. Convincing the Faeries to act was the difficult part.

“If the Midways can be infiltrated, then how sure are we that the realm cannot be infiltrated the same way? We cannot afford to wait here and play it safe. We cannot be satisfied with merely defending our realm. We must move forward and take them by surprise. We must launch an attack, striking them when they least expect it. More lives are put at stake the longer we delay.”

“How can we attack when our soldiers are not even finished with training?” an old woman cried out.

“We have our allies,” Misty answered. “They will help us. But we cannot waste time. So many Faeries are afraid – I’ve seen it for myself – but I don’t think they’re afraid enough. I don’t think they’re taking this threat seriously enough. We need to make everyone realize that surviving is not a certainty. We have to work hard at learning not just how to defend ourselves. We need to learn how to attack – and if we have to, we must learn how to kill if it’s all it takes not to get killed.”

The woman seated at Ivory’s right said, “That’s very nicely said, Misty Wall, but how can we be very sure that you will truly represent our interests when we sign the Alliance?”

Domenico’s body became taut at the woman’s words. That was an insult as far as he was concerned, and his hand instinctively went towards the dagger he kept hidden on his body, preparing to strike down whoever dared to hurt Misty.

Lysander shot to his feet. “That is uncalled for, Arabella. Misty has never done anything to earn your distrust---”

“Likewise – she’s never done anything to earn our trust!” the woman shot back.

Lysander and Arabella stared at each other, both unwilling to back down.

Misty could feel her panic rising. She had never thought that her loyalty would become an issue, but then – wasn’t that terribly naïve of her? Of course the Faeries had the right to doubt her, and Domenico being her would only make things appear more suspicious.

Ivory cleared her throat. “If I may suggest something---”

Magenta gestured for her to speak.




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