Nystrix's boots clicked against the marble floor as she followed Gadmyne and Hasiy down the lightened hallway, she had met them on her way. The air was cold, heavier than it should have been, and it made her chest tighten. Her stomach churned with the rage she hadn't swallowed since Ramset's words spat at her like venom. "Tainted blood." "Traitor's daughter." She could still hear him.
Her hands itched. The blast she had fired at him earlier replayed in her mind—how close she had come to turning him into dust. If Gadmyne hadn't held him before she had, the man would've been nothing but a charred memory. And maybe… maybe she wouldn't have felt guilty about it.
The wolf-boy trotted ahead of them, black fur gleaming under the torchlight. He wagged his tail once, proud of his little task, but Nystrix's smile faded the second massive double doors loomed before them. Two guards stood there—broad-shouldered shifters with the same eyes she'd come to recognize. Cold, sharp. Like they were born only to judge her.
The wolf-boy shifted back into his small human form and gave Nystrix a gap-toothed grin. "This is it! The Council 's waiting."
She ruffled his hair softly, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks."
The boy scampered off.
The guards pushed the doors open, and a wave of sound spilled out—low murmurs, the growl of voices, whispers snapping like hidden blades.
Nystrix's stomach flipped.
The chamber was enormous—an oval hall carved from stone, lined with banners of the wolf sigil. Flames burned in tall iron braziers, casting orange light across a ring of shifters seated on raised thrones that curved like an arena. Their eyes tracked her immediately, and the room hushed.
"The Hybrid Princess has arrived."
The words weren't spoken aloud, but she could feel them rippling through the chamber, taste the venom in the silence that followed.
Hasiy straightened her back and strode forward first, her crown gleaming under the light. Gadmyne walked with quiet, terrifying calm, her eyes unreadable. Nystrix forced herself to step into the center, the place where the torches converged like a spotlight.
The stares burned.
"She looks weak."
"She's dangerous."
"Slagus's daughter."
"Jacqueline's curse."
Nystrix clenched her fists, fighting the urge to hurl a blast right into their smug faces.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Ramset sitting among them, his neck bruised from Gadmyne's earlier grip. He caught her gaze and smirked, tilting his head as if daring her to make the wrong move.
The silence shattered when one of the council elders rose. He was massive, his shoulders broad as a mountain, his eyes gleaming golden in the firelight. His voice rolled through the chamber.
"Nystrix, daughter of Slagus and Jacqueline. You dare step into this council as though you belong. You carry cursed blood. Why should we acknowledge you? Why should you not be destroyed where you stand?"
Nystrix's lips trembled. She wanted to scream But had a lazy smirk on her face,
"You had sent for me, so?"
The faces of the council members changed and Hasiy spoke.
"She is under my protection," Hasiy's voice was calm, cold. "Blood of the royal line. My niece. You will show restraint."
A laugh cut through the chamber. Ramset's laugh.
"Restraint? She fired at me earlier. If not for my reflexes, I would be ash. That is what you're asking us to bow to? A half-breed with no control?"
Gasps rippled. Nystrix's heart hammered, rage boiling.
"I did what I should've done years ago," she snapped, her voice breaking the chamber's composure. "If Gadmyne hadn't gotten you, you wouldn't even be breathing, Ramset. And maybe the world would've been cleaner for it."
The shifters erupted—growls, snarls, voices overlapping.
"Arrogant witch!"
"She dares!"
"Kill her now!"
Nystrix's vision blurred. The fire of anger surged through her veins, mixing with something heavier. Wilder. She felt her skin crawl, her heartbeat thundering in her ears
The golden-eyed elder raised a hand, silencing the noise. His gaze locked on Nystrix like a predator.
"If you wish to stand among us, prove yourself. No words. No excuses. Only strength."
The chamber rumbled with approval.
Ramset rose immediately, his grin feral. "I challenge her."
Nystrix's stomach dropped—but the fire inside her only burned hotter. She stepped forward, her voice sharp as a blade.
"Fine."
The council cleared the center, leaving a wide space. The ground beneath Nystrix's boots felt colder now, the air thick with expectation.
Ramset's body rippled, bones cracking as his shape warped. Black hair spilled into stripes of orange and white, muscles expanding under his skin. In seconds, a massive tiger crouched before her, its fangs gleaming, its golden eyes locked on her like prey. His growl wasn't just sound—it was thunder rolling through the chamber.
Nystrix's chest heaved. She had no training, no plan. Just fury. But maybe that was enough.
The tiger lunged.
Her body moved before her mind did. Her palm flared with light, but instead of firing a beam, the magic wrapped around her arm like fire. Her eyes burned, her breath came in ragged gasps—and then it happened.
Her bones shifted. Her skin rippled. Her ears sharpened, her teeth lengthened. But it wasn't a full shift. It was worse—half-shift, half-magic, her body glowing with a strange, violent aura.
Gasps filled the chamber.
Ramset faltered for a second—just a second—but Nystrix didn't. She slammed her glowing fist into the ground, sending a wave of raw power bursting outward. The floor cracked, flames and green light erupting like a storm. The tiger was flung back, crashing into the council wall with a sickening thud.
Silence.
Everyone stared at her.
Her chest rose and fell in harsh breaths. Her claws were still glowing, her eyes wild, her skin marked with streaks of light. She looked like something not meant to exist.
Gadmyne's voice sliced through the silence, calm but sharp.
"Behold. Blood of Slagus. Blood of Jacqueline. She is both."
Hasiy stepped forward, her voice iron-clad. "She carries the strength of kings and the power of witches. Deny her if you dare."
The council members looked shaken, some afraid, some angry, some whispering with suspicion.
Ramset staggered to his feet, growling low. His eyes burned with hatred, but he didn't move again. Not after what he had just seen.
Nystrix forced her body to calm, her claws retreating, her breath slowing. But inside, her mind raced. She had lost control—again. And this time, everyone had seen it.
The elder finally spoke. "This… changes nothing. She may be strong, but power does not earn trust. Remember this: enemies are made faster than allies."
Nystrix swallowed hard, her gaze flicking to Gadmyne, who was already watching her with sharp, unreadable eyes.
The session ended in whispers, distrust, and fear.
Later, in her chamber, Nystrix sat on her bed, fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms. Gadmyne stood by the window, the moonlight painting her face in silver shadow.
"Power makes enemies faster than allies," Gadmyne said, repeating the elder's words. Her voice was quiet, almost too calm. "You must decide, Nystrix. Will you rule them with fear… or make them follow willingly?"
Nystrix didn't answer. She didn't know the answer. All she knew was that every path before her seemed darker than the last.
And somewhere deep in the shadows of the council chamber, Ramset's eyes had gleamed like knives.