CHAPTER TWELVE

Council of Elders

The forest was eerily quiet as I trudged through the underbrush, my body aching from the battle. Smears of blood—Bella's blood—stained the borrowed hoodie, a grim reminder of the gamble I had taken. Eventually, I came across a river, its surface shimmering under the pale moonlight. The gentle sound of rushing water was a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded earlier.

Kneeling by the riverbank, I plunged my hands into the icy water, scrubbing furiously to rid myself of the crimson stains. The cold bit into my skin, but I welcomed it. It grounded me, numbed the lingering pain, and helped me focus on the present. I rubbed my hands over my shirt, watching the water swirl red and disappear downstream. No matter how much I washed, the weight of what I had done lingered. The memory of James's screams, the intensity of the battle—it all clung to me like a shadow.

As the last traces of blood washed away, Lyra's voice resonated in my mind. "Be strong Dorian, you have won yourself a great victory here, now, return to your allies and tell them of your victory. But do not yet speak of my awakening. Tell them only of your newfound strength. I will listen."

I mentally nodded in agreement, her presence a steadying force in my chaotic thoughts. I took a deep breath, the cool night air filling my lungs as I tried to shake off the lingering adrenaline. The river's serenity calmed me, and I stood, wringing the water from my shirt before heading back toward the Cullens' house.

When I finally reached their home, the soft glow of light spilling through the windows was a welcome sight. The door creaked open as I stepped inside, and Bella's form blurred as she sprinted toward me. Her arms wrapped around me tightly, and for a moment, I forgot everything else. The relief on her face melted the tension from her features, and I held her close, feeling her heartbeat against mine.

"You're okay," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"I'm okay," I murmured back, though the weight of what I'd done settled heavier in my chest with her words.

Jasper and Emmett moved closer; their expressions guarded yet curious. Jasper's sharp gaze locked onto mine, his body tense like he was still anticipating a fight. "Is it done?" he asked, his voice low and steady.

I nodded, exhaling deeply. "It's over. James is dead."

A collective sigh filled the room, a mixture of relief and exhaustion settling over everyone.

"Tell us everything," Jasper urged, stepping forward, his tone as even as his stare.

I recounted the battle in vivid detail—James's relentless strength, the moment I nearly lost, and how the sudden unlocking of Lyra's bind had turned the tide. "It wasn't easy," I admitted, my voice tight. "He was strong, and I almost didn't make it. But then I unlocked more power, and it was all I needed."

Emmett let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "Man, that's badass. You've got a whole new gear now!" His grin was wide, but there was a glimmer of awe in his eyes.

Rosalie, who had been silent the entire time, rolled her golden eyes, leaning back against the wall with her arms crossed.

Alice tilted her head, her expression curious. "I couldn't see a damn thing," she admitted, her voice carrying a hint of frustration. "It was like… static. Gave me the worst headache. But now I can see you, though you're a little fuzzy."

Lyra's voice echoed in my mind again. "That makes sense. The more of my power you unlock, the closer you come to becoming a pure Edenian, and the further you are from being human."

I nodded internally, wondering what I would become once all the binds were released. Would I still be me? Or would this power transform me into something unrecognizable?

Then, a memory struck me—James's memories of Alice. I had mined them out of James' head, when I broke through his defences. My heart clenched as I realized she needed to know. I stepped toward her, my expression serious. "Alice," I began, my voice soft but firm.

Her golden eyes flicked to mine, a faint worry crossing her face. "What is it?"

"It's about your past," I said, holding up a hand as she opened her mouth to respond. "I… I got into James's mind before he died. He knew you, Alice. He hunted you when you were still human."

Her expression froze, and I could see the fear creeping into her features. "I can share the memories with you," I offered gently. "You can see for yourself."

She hesitated, her gaze darting to Jasper, who was already at her side, his hand on her shoulder. Finally, she nodded, steeling herself.

Reaching out mentally, I connected to her mind, pushing the memories I'd taken from James into her consciousness. Her gasp was sharp and immediate, and Jasper gripped her tighter, his protective instincts flaring as he glanced between us.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice urgent.

The Cullens looked on in confusion, though Edward's face was a mask of grim understanding. He must have glimpsed the horrors in Alice's mind.

After a long moment, Alice looked at me again, her golden eyes filled with a mix of pain and gratitude. "Thank you, Dorian," she said quietly. Her voice trembled, but there was strength in it. "I appreciate this… but that person James hunted? That's not me anymore. This—right here—this is who I am. And this is all I need."

I nodded, a deep respect for her resilience swelling in my chest. Alice was right—she wasn't the frightened human from James's memories. She was stronger, brighter, and surrounded by a family who loved her.

The room settled into a quiet stillness, the weight of the night hanging in the air. I knew this was far from the end of our trials, but for now, we had survived. And for now, that was enough.

Carlisle folded his hands, his calm yet authoritative tone cutting through the heavy atmosphere. "Now that James is dead," he began, his golden eyes scanning each of us, "we should turn our attention back to our original plans. As you've said, Dorian, James, much like Hansel, was clearly enhanced by a mysterious benefactor. If I were a betting man, I'd wager this Kragas is behind it. Even Hansel's mistress might be connected to him somehow. We need to uncover everything we can about him."

Jasper stepped forward; his voice low but brimming with intensity. "And if Kragas is bold enough to send a pack of enhanced werewolves—or a strong vampire like James—who knows what he'll try next? An army? We can't afford to underestimate him. We need allies, people who can stand with us when the time comes."

I nodded, his words sinking in as my thoughts turned to the Quileute wolves. The tension between us had escalated after the fight earlier. While the situation was salvageable, I'd need to handle it delicately. "The wolves…" I began, hesitating slightly before continuing, "things might be a little strained after what happened earlier."

I explained how I had gotten into an altercation with the wolves, and knocked out one of them. Emmett snorted, a grin spreading across his face. "Wait. One hit? That's all it took? Damn, Dorian, you really levelled up." He laughed, clearly entertained by the idea.

Carlisle shook his head, a faint frown crossing his features. Esme, ever the voice of reason and kindness, chimed in with her usual gentle warmth. "Dorian, that's not good. They're our neighbors, and it's important we maintain peace with them. You'll need to smooth things over with them."

I rolled my eyes in mock annoyance, exhaling dramatically. "Yes, Auntie E," I quipped, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips.

Esme chuckled softly, her amusement lightening the mood for a brief moment. "That's a good boy," she teased, her eyes twinkling.

As the others exchanged small comments, my gaze drifted to Edward. He stood apart from the group, his expression distant, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. Curious, I reached into his mind and caught the memory playing on loop: James's growling, his eyes locked on Bella, the predator drawn to her scent. The guilt emanating from Edward was palpable, and I winced, feeling the weight of it settle on me.

"Dude," I said mentally, broadcasting directly into his mind. "It's not your fault."

Edward looked at me, his face a mask of self-recrimination, as he mentally replied. "If I hadn't brought her into my world, she wouldn't have been in danger. James only found her because of me. I'm no good for her."

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose as I mentally responded. "Don't let her hear you say that, bro. Look, you're overthinking this. James was after me, and even if Bella wasn't in your life, he'd have found her to get to me. This wasn't on you."

Edward frowned, his jaw tightening as he mulled over my words.

I continued, pushing back against his guilt. "Listen, dude, some things are out of your control, you can't control every single variable of Bella's life, trying to do so will drive you nuts, I get trying to protect her from harm, but blaming yourself every time something out of your control happens, that's just crazy, don't do that to yourself."

He hesitated before reluctantly nodding. "I'll… think about it," he said mentally, though the war within him was far from over.

The room fell quiet again, the gravity of our situation hanging heavy in the air. But despite the weight of it all, there was a sense of resolve among us. We had battles ahead—both external and internal—but we were still standing. That was a start.

As Carlisle, Esme, and Alice huddled near the far end of the room, deep in conversation about the possibility of using Alice's visions to uncover clues, Jasper walked over to me, his expression serious. His sharp golden eyes held a quiet authority as he said, "Dorian, that move you pulled earlier, going after James alone—it was reckless."

I opened my mouth to protest, but he raised a hand, cutting me off. "Don't." His tone was firm, and I knew better than to argue. "Using Bella's blood as bait was a guaranteed way to draw James out, sure. But you completely eliminated us as your backup. We couldn't get anywhere near you without losing control, and you almost paid for it with your life."

His words hit me harder than I cared to admit. I exhaled and nodded slowly. "I only wanted to keep you all safe. When I saw what was in Laurent's mind—that James was basically a Coven Killer—I couldn't risk losing you guys. I had to do whatever it took to make sure you'd all survive."

Jasper's jaw tightened, and he let out a heavy sigh. "Dorian, I've been through battles worse than anything you've faced so far. You're strong—hell, you're way stronger than any of us—but strength alone doesn't win fights. Experience does. Emmett and I train with you so we know your limits and ours. We train to fight with you, not to sit on the sidelines while you take on near-impossible odds alone. Trust us, damn it. That's what we're here for."

Lyra's voice rang in my head, her tone calm but resolute. "He's right. He speaks with wisdom, Dorian. Heed his words."

I looked Jasper in the eyes, the weight of his advice settling on me. "You're right," I admitted, my voice quieter now. "I'm sorry, Jazz. It won't happen again. Next time, we fight together."

From across the room, Emmett's booming laugh broke the tension. "Hell yeah!" he said, grinning ear to ear. "That's what I'm talking about!"

Before I could respond, Lyra's voice echoed in my mind again. "And speaking of strength, I can teach you to empower your allies—especially that one." I could feel her attention focus on Jasper; her tone thoughtful. "The warrior. His abilities are unique. With my guidance, you could amplify them, make them more potent."

Intrigued, I asked her what she meant.

"That is a lesson for another time," she said cryptically. Then her tone softened. "For now, you and your sister should be getting home, shouldn't you?"

Her words pulled me back to the present, and I turned to Bella. My earlier frustration with her still simmered under the surface, and I approached her with purpose. She was leaning against the back of the couch, her arms crossed defensively. Her eyes met mine, and I could see the guilt flickering in them.

Before she could say much, I cut straight to the point. "Look," I said, my tone sharp but not harsh. "I get that you wanted to protect Dad by keeping him in the dark. But leaving him like that? Saying what you said to him? That wasn't fair, Bella."

Her shoulders sagged, and her voice was small when she replied. "I just wanted to make sure he'd be safe by staying out of it."

I sighed, forcing myself to soften. "Next time, just tell me. Don't leave me in the dark, Bella. I need to know if you're in danger—not find out after everything's gone to shit and you've hurt the people we love in the process."

Her eyes welled up with tears, and she nodded quickly. "You're right," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll talk to Dad when we get back. I'll fix it. I promise."

I could see how deeply my words had hit her. The guilt was etched into her face, but there was sincerity in her promise, and it eased the anger I'd been holding onto.

"Good," I said, my tone gentler now. "Now, let's get you home."

With quiet goodbyes exchanged and promises lingering in the air, Bella and I slid into the Honda Civic. As I started the engine, the deep growl and flutter of the turbo resonated through the night, a sharp contrast to the tension heavy in the car. The fight, the revelations, and the weight of the power now coursing through me all pressed against my chest. But for now, at least, we were alive, and we were safe.

The entire ordeal with James had taken less than an hour, though it felt like days had passed. As we sped down the dimly lit road toward home, the orange glow of the streetlights flashed through the windows in a rhythmic pulse. Bella sat quietly, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. When our eyes met briefly, we shared a silent acknowledgment, bracing ourselves for what we knew awaited us at home.

By the time we pulled into the driveway, the night air was still and heavy. The turbo's last flutter and the guttural rumble of the engine announced our arrival, and almost immediately, the front door flew open. Dad stood there on the porch, the overhead light casting deep shadows across his worried face. His shoulders were taut with tension, his eyes scanning the car until they locked on Bella stepping out of the passenger seat.

"Did you find her?" he called out, his voice raw with concern. His eyes flicked to me for confirmation before returning to Bella.

She opened her mouth to answer, her lips already forming an apology, but Dad didn't give her the chance. The emotions he'd been bottling up all day burst forth.

"Bella," he started, his voice rising as his pain poured out, "I've been trying my best since you and Dorian moved here from Phoenix. Everything I've done—everything—has been to make sure you two are happy and safe. Do you have any idea what it's been like for me, standing here terrified, not knowing where you were? Not knowing if you were hurt? Or worse?"

Bella flinched at his words, guilt etched deep into her features, but Dad pressed on, his voice cracking slightly as his emotions overtook him. "And then to hear you say what you said to me? That I'm not enough? That you don't belong here?" He paused, exhaling shakily, his hands gripping the doorframe like it was the only thing holding him up. "I've always loved you, more than anything in this world. I don't think I deserved that, Bella."

His voice softened slightly, but the rawness remained. "Do you have any idea how terrified I was when you ran off like that?"

The words hung in the air like thunderclouds, heavy and unrelenting. When he finally stopped, Bella's face was pale, her eyes brimming with tears. Her voice, barely above a whisper, trembled as she spoke. "I'm so sorry, Dad. I got emotional, and I was wrong. I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have left like I did. I won't do it again."

The tension in the air lingered as Dad studied her for a moment, his own emotions still simmering beneath the surface. Finally, he nodded, his voice regaining its sternness. "You're grounded, Bella," he said firmly. There was no room for debate in his tone.

Bella nodded, her shoulders slumping under the weight of both her guilt and his decision. Without another word, she turned and walked inside. The soft click of her bedroom door closing echoed through the quiet house.

Dad turned to me next, his posture relaxing slightly as the tension began to ease. His eyes met mine, a mixture of gratitude and weariness in his gaze. "Thank you for going after her, Dorian," he said, his voice carrying the weight of a long day. "I don't know what I would've done if—" He broke off, swallowing hard.

I stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You don't need to thank me, Dad," I said, my voice steady but warm. "You're the best father anyone could ask for. Don't ever forget that."

His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he gave me a small, weary smile. Without a word, he pulled me into a tight hug, the kind that spoke of relief, love, and gratitude all at once.

As we stood there under the soft glow of the porch light, I felt some of the weight that had been pressing down on all of us lift, just a little. In that moment, the house didn't feel so fractured. It felt whole again.

The next morning, I left the house early, eager to shake off the emotional weight of the night before. The air was crisp, carrying a faint hint of pine and damp earth as I drove toward school, the steady hum of the Civic's engine a soothing distraction from the chaos swirling in my head. At school, Bella stuck close to Edward, their connection seeming stronger than ever. I found my usual place at the Cullens' table, their presence grounding me in an odd way.

After school, I made my way to La Push, determined to mend the rift that had started to form. The night before, after bringing Bella home, I'd made a call to Leah. Her voice had been cautious when she picked up, laced with curiosity and a tinge of concern. I'd quickly assured her everything was fine before asking to speak with her father. After a brief pause, Harry Clearwater's steady voice replaced hers, warm but tinged with curiosity. I explained the situation—a run-in with one of Sam's "friends" that had escalated—and expressed my desire to smooth things over with Sam. Harry had been silent for a moment, the weight of his consideration palpable even over the phone, before agreeing to set up a meeting. "Come over after school tomorrow," he'd said. I'd thanked him and hung up, now left to prepare for the conversation ahead.

Now, as I drove down the winding road to Leah's house, the dense canopy of trees casting long shadows over the pavement, I felt a flicker of apprehension. I pulled up in front of the small but welcoming house, killed the engine, and stepped out, the crunch of gravel under my boots breaking the stillness. After a deep breath, I walked to the door and rang the bell.

"Coming!" called a warm, feminine voice—not Leah's. A moment later, the door swung open to reveal a middle-aged woman with a kind face, her dark eyes twinkling as she smiled. Her black hair framed her features, giving her an air of both warmth and strength.

"Hello, you must be Dorian," she said, her voice friendly yet assessing. "I'm Sue Clearwater, Leah and Seth's mother."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Clearwater," I replied with a polite smile.

She waved a hand dismissively. "No need for formalities—Sue is fine."

I nodded, matching her smile. "Of course, Sue."

She stepped aside, ushering me into the cozy home. The warmth inside was a stark contrast to the chilly air outside, and I took a moment to appreciate the homey atmosphere. The living room was modest but inviting, with well-worn furniture that radiated comfort. Family photos lined the walls, their frames capturing glimpses of joy and connection.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Sue asked, motioning for me to take a seat.

"Lemonade would be great, thank you," I said, settling into the plush couch.

Sue returned moments later with a glass of lemonade, and as I sipped, we made small talk. She asked about school, and I told her about my plans to graduate early. Her eyes sparkled with genuine interest, though the shift in her tone made it clear she had something more pointed to address.

"So," she said, leaning forward slightly, her expression growing sly, "Leah mentioned your date. Care to tell me about it?"

I chuckled internally—straight to the point. "What do you want to know?" I asked with a smile.

"She told me about the movie and the expensive restaurant you took her to," Sue said, her brow lifting. "Is that true?"

I shrugged, a grin tugging at the corner of my lips. "Yes, Sue, it's all true."

Sue nodded, clearly impressed. Then her expression shifted, her gaze sharpening. "Alright, young man, what are your intentions with my daughter?"

I nearly choked on my lemonade. Placing the glass on the table, I took a moment to gather myself. I should have seen this coming. "Well," I began, choosing my words carefully, "Leah and I are good friends—at least, I'd like to think so. I enjoy spending time with her. She's… special."

Sue tilted her head, a playful glint in her eye. "Oh, come now. Is that all? Be honest with me, Dorian."

I sighed, knowing there was no dodging this. "Fine, you got me," I said in mock defeat, a small smile breaking through. "I really like Leah. From the moment we met, we just… clicked. She's incredible, and I love spending time with her. She makes me happy, and I like to think I do the same for her. I'd love the chance to get to know her better."

Sue listened intently, her expression softening as I spoke. When I finished, she smiled warmly. "Well, that's certainly something," she said. "Normally, I'd be grilling any boy interested in my daughter, but you're a family friend, and I won't lie—Leah's been so much happier since you've been in her life. Gone is the angry, brooding girl, replaced by someone who seems to be falling in love."

The word love sent a jolt through me. My heart fluttered, and a warmth spread through my chest, but I kept my excitement in check, nodding solemnly.

Sue's tone shifted, becoming serious. "But let me warn you, young man. If you break my daughter's heart, you'll have made an enemy of me."

The intensity in her voice sent a chill down my spine. Despite all my strength and abilities, there was something undeniably intimidating about Sue Clearwater's protective fire.

Before I could respond, the door creaked open, and Seth bounded in, followed closely by Harry. Their presence filled the room with a new energy, the tension from moments before easing into something lighter.

Seth was the first to spot me as I stepped into the room, his face lighting up with an infectious grin. "Dorian! Long time no see," he called, his voice brimming with energy.

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Dude, I literally saw you yesterday."

Seth scratched the back of his head, sheepishly laughing. "Oh, right. Forgot about that."

Harry entered right behind Seth, his presence calm but steady, like a rooted tree. I greeted him with a polite nod. "Harry."

"Dorian," he replied warmly, stepping past me to embrace Sue. The warmth between them was palpable, a silent display of years of partnership. After the family exchanged greetings, Seth bolted off to his room, muttering something about needing to change. His heavy footfalls echoed up the stairs.

Harry turned to me, his demeanor shifting subtly. There was a seriousness in his gaze now that hadn't been there a moment ago. "I'm going to take you to meet the Council elders," he said plainly.

I blinked, caught off guard. "The elders? I thought I was meeting with Sam."

Harry's expression was unreadable, his eyes flickering with something I couldn't quite place—was it apprehension? Concern? Or was he just lost in thought? Finally, he said, "It'll all make sense when we get there."

Though his tone was calm, the weight of his words left me uneasy. I nodded, though the knot in my stomach tightened. "Alright."

After thanking Sue for her hospitality—her lemonade was genuinely refreshing—Harry and I stepped out of the house. The air outside was crisp, with a faint tang of salt from the nearby ocean. We climbed into my Civic, the familiar purr of the turbocharger kicking in as I pulled away from the Clearwater home.

The drive was quiet, tension settling like a fog between us. Harry directed me toward a secluded area just outside the reservation, near the edge of the forest. Towering trees loomed overhead, their branches knitting together to form a canopy that dappled the ground with fractured light. I parked the car on the gravel shoulder, cutting the engine.

"This is where we're meeting?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry stepped out without answering, motioning for me to follow. "Come on."

I sighed, stepping out and locking the car. "Well, this should be interesting," I muttered to myself as I trailed after him.

We made our way through the forest, the earthy scent of damp soil and pine needles filling the air. Eventually, we emerged into a small clearing. At its center was a weathered wooden bench and an outdoor table, clearly a makeshift meeting spot that had seen its share of history. Around the table sat several older men, their faces lined with years of wisdom and experience.

I immediately recognized Billy Black, his piercing eyes meeting mine as he offered a faint smile. I returned it, trying to steady my nerves.

Sam stood a few feet away, flanked by two of his packmates. Their postures were tense, their sharp gazes locked onto me like wolves assessing a potential threat.

Billy spoke first, his voice even but firm. "Dorian, welcome. I'm Billy Black, and these are the other elders of the Quileute tribe. Our duty is to protect our people and the town of Forks. That's why we need to know exactly what you are."

Well, they don't pull punches, do they? I thought. Lyra's voice echoed in my mind, calm and authoritative. Tell them everything. Earn their trust. We'll need them as allies for what's coming.

I took a deep breath, stepping forward. "Alright, let's get to it. I'm an Edenian."

The word hung in the air, met with confused glances from the elders. One of them leaned forward, his brows furrowing.

I chuckled softly, raising my hands. "Okay, maybe we need to start from the beginning."

I launched into my story, laying it all out for them. I told them how I'd gained my powers, how I'd dedicated myself to mastering them, and what had ultimately led me to Forks. I recounted my first encounter with the Cullens and how we'd formed an alliance.

The mention of the Cullens earned a collective scowl from the elders. Billy's voice cut through the tension, sharp and accusing. "You would ally yourself with monsters that hunt humans for sustenance, and you expect us to ally with you?"

I met his gaze steadily, keeping my tone calm. "First of all, the Cullens don't hunt humans. I'm sure you're already aware of that. Second, there are far greater threats out there than vampires."

The elders exchanged skeptical glances, but I pressed on, recounting my recent encounter with a rogue pack of werewolves. "A few weeks ago, I was attacked by a pack. Barely made it out alive. I had to kill them—well, all but one. Their leader, Hansel, was enhanced somehow, and he got away."

Sam and his packmates exchanged a look, their expressions unreadable. Sam opened his mouth to speak, but I raised a hand to stop him.

"Oh, right," I said, a wry smile tugging at my lips. "You guys aren't actually werewolves, you know this, yes?"

The elders exchanged glances, their expressions a blend of curiosity and wariness. Harry's voice was firm but measured. "Dorian, you have no idea what you're talking about."

I tilted my head, letting a smirk tug at the corner of my lips. "Actually, Harry, I do. Werewolves—real werewolves—are known as the Children of the Moon. They're cursed creatures, transforming into massive, bipedal monsters under the full moon. You, on the other hand, are shapeshifters who took on the spirit form of a wolf. It's entirely different."

The room fell into an uneasy silence as the elders exchanged nods, their faces revealing an acknowledgment of the truth in my words. Meanwhile, the wolves—Sam and his pack—looked at one another, their guarded expressions betraying a flicker of intrigue. The idea of other supernatural beings, perhaps even deadlier than themselves, seemed to shift the atmosphere in the clearing.

I pressed on, my tone even but laced with urgency. "But that's just the tip of the iceberg. Let me tell you about my fight with the vampire named James."

Their focus sharpened at the name. "James wasn't just any vampire. He was enhanced—stronger, faster, more cunning. I fought and killed him in the forest last night, and honestly, I nearly lost. He wasn't working alone; we suspect his benefactor is an Edenian named Kragas."

The mention of the name had an immediate effect. The elders leaned forward, their faces tightening with shock and disbelief. One of them, an older man with a deep, gravelly voice, asked, "Who is this Kragas you speak of?"

I exhaled, my expression darkening. "Kragas is ancient—an Edenian with a blood-soaked history. Over a millennium ago, he wiped out an entire empire, far more advanced than earth, an empire that spread to many planets, annihilating everything in his path. He's cunning, ruthless, and he sees himself as a god. If he's involved, it's not just Forks at stake—it's the entire world."

Fear flickered across the elders' faces, their stoic demeanor cracking under the weight of what I'd said. The wolves, too, shifted uncomfortably, their earlier bravado dimmed by the sheer scale of the threat.

"Now do you understand," I continued, my voice firm, "why I chose to work with the Cullens? This isn't about vampires or treaties anymore. It's about survival. The Cullens have supported me since they learned about Kragas. If we're going to have any chance against him, we need to form a coalition—wolves, vampires, witches, and whoever else has the strength to fight."

The elders huddled together, their voices a low murmur as they deliberated. The seconds stretched into minutes, the weight of the moment pressing down on everyone in the clearing. Finally, Billy Black turned back to me, his expression resolute.

"We will join you," he said slowly. "But there are conditions. The Cullens are not allowed on our land, nor are they allowed to turn anyone in Forks. If they break the treaty, this alliance is over."

I bit back a sigh, nodding in reluctant agreement. "I was hoping we could work past the treaty, but... fine. Rome wasn't built in a day, I suppose."

"Those are our terms, Dorian," Billy replied, his tone unyielding.

I thanked them for their time, preparing to leave when Sam's voice cut through the air like a blade. "Wait."

I turned back, my eyes narrowing. The elders shifted their attention to Sam, who took a step forward, his pack flanking him like shadows. His expression was unreadable, but there was an edge to his voice. "If we're going to call you an ally, we need to know what you're capable of. You say you fought and killed a pack of these werewolves?"

I nodded, already sensing where this was heading. "That's right."

Sam's lips curled into a smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Then prove it. I and my pack will fight you. All of us, at once. If you agree, of course."

The elders watched with barely concealed interest, some even betraying a spark of excitement at the challenge. I glanced at Paul, whose bruised jaw was still healing from our last encounter. His scowl deepened when I caught his eye.

A chuckle rumbled from my chest as I rolled my shoulders, letting the tension seep out of my body. "Alright," I said, my voice tinged with amusement. "Let's dance."

Dropping into my battle stance, I felt the familiar surge of energy flow through me, my senses sharpening and my muscles coiling like a spring. The wolves mirrored my movements, their bodies tense with anticipation. The clearing seemed to hum with the crackling energy of the moment, the forest holding its breath.

This was going to be fun.