over.
Chapter Three
The High Circle was insane , Lysander Allard thought. He stood at the edge of the chamber, next to one of the windows. The High Circle’s chamber fittingly resided in the topmost room of the tower, allowing its members to gaze upon the entire realm even from their throne-like seats.
He had one of those precious seats, the right to which he had won with cunning not typical for his race.
In a soft drawling voice that betrayed none of his incredulity and impatience, Lysander said, “This girl – Misty Wall – is married to a Lyccan. How do we know she is not merely a pawn of their race and would indeed fight for our rights?” He didn’t want a quarrel with Milo as he deeply respected the older man. But what Milo was suggesting just didn’t make sense, and damn if he was just going to stop by and let a mortal girl hold the fate of their race in her hands.
Thankfully, Milo didn’t appear offended at all by his question. But then, Lysander knew that the other man was also one of the few who saw past his many deliberate affectations and understood that the safety of their race was of the utmost importance to him.
“I understand your concern, Lysander, but I assure you that there is nothing for you to fear. This was not revealed to the High Circle, but one of the terms set in our earlier pact with the Lyccans was for Misty to cut ties with the Moretti heir apparent.”
Shock reverberated through the High Circle.
“At the request of Misty herself.”
This time, they were not just shocked. They were aghast. Even Lysander didn’t believe he had heard Milo correctly. What woman in her right mind would willingly shun marriage to Domenico Moretti? The man was not just any Lyccan royal. If the rumors and the legends were to be believed, Moretti was supposedly destined to unite all Lyccan packs under one rule.
“And why would she choose to follow us?” Lysander didn’t see which of the High Circle had asked the question, but he was interested to hear the answer to it as well. She must have an ulterior motive.
Milo answered shortly, “Heartbreak.”
More gasps and mutters filled the chamber.
“Moretti himself would be the first to admit that she had been of great help to him in uniting warring packs. She can do something similar for our race. Most of us have spent our entire lives within this realm. Even though a long time has passed since the Great War, we all still bear its scars.”
Aware of the gazes that strayed to him, Lysander maintained an impassive face at the mention of the event that decimated his entire family. Once there had been hundreds of Allards---a family known for its proud and noble ancestry. Their courage was a legend among their kind, but it was that courage that also pushed to be the frontline of defense for the Faeries. It meant that they had been the first to die, too.
He had been the youngest in the family when the war started, and when it ended he was the only one left. If not for the High Circle taking Lysander in, the grief would have driven him insane.
Milo continued, “We distrust humans and I know there are some who still harbor great bitterness for the lack of help we received in the past war. If we send one of our own, the past may color his or her judgment and prevent the Alliance from being fulfilled.”
Milo looked at each member of the High Circle one by one, demanding all of their attention. “All the races need this Alliance to survive. We know so little of our enemies, but it is clear to us all that something – someone - powerful is leading them, one that’s utterly evil. Our true enemy wears the face of a vampire, but we all know it can’t be.”
Lysander knew Milo was speaking the truth. Vampires were ruled by their thirst for blood, and only something more powerful could prevent them from succumbing to their base and greedy desires. Something more powerful and
Chapter Three
The High Circle was insane , Lysander Allard thought. He stood at the edge of the chamber, next to one of the windows. The High Circle’s chamber fittingly resided in the topmost room of the tower, allowing its members to gaze upon the entire realm even from their throne-like seats.
He had one of those precious seats, the right to which he had won with cunning not typical for his race.
In a soft drawling voice that betrayed none of his incredulity and impatience, Lysander said, “This girl – Misty Wall – is married to a Lyccan. How do we know she is not merely a pawn of their race and would indeed fight for our rights?” He didn’t want a quarrel with Milo as he deeply respected the older man. But what Milo was suggesting just didn’t make sense, and damn if he was just going to stop by and let a mortal girl hold the fate of their race in her hands.
Thankfully, Milo didn’t appear offended at all by his question. But then, Lysander knew that the other man was also one of the few who saw past his many deliberate affectations and understood that the safety of their race was of the utmost importance to him.
“I understand your concern, Lysander, but I assure you that there is nothing for you to fear. This was not revealed to the High Circle, but one of the terms set in our earlier pact with the Lyccans was for Misty to cut ties with the Moretti heir apparent.”
Shock reverberated through the High Circle.
“At the request of Misty herself.”
This time, they were not just shocked. They were aghast. Even Lysander didn’t believe he had heard Milo correctly. What woman in her right mind would willingly shun marriage to Domenico Moretti? The man was not just any Lyccan royal. If the rumors and the legends were to be believed, Moretti was supposedly destined to unite all Lyccan packs under one rule.
“And why would she choose to follow us?” Lysander didn’t see which of the High Circle had asked the question, but he was interested to hear the answer to it as well. She must have an ulterior motive.
Milo answered shortly, “Heartbreak.”
More gasps and mutters filled the chamber.
“Moretti himself would be the first to admit that she had been of great help to him in uniting warring packs. She can do something similar for our race. Most of us have spent our entire lives within this realm. Even though a long time has passed since the Great War, we all still bear its scars.”
Aware of the gazes that strayed to him, Lysander maintained an impassive face at the mention of the event that decimated his entire family. Once there had been hundreds of Allards---a family known for its proud and noble ancestry. Their courage was a legend among their kind, but it was that courage that also pushed to be the frontline of defense for the Faeries. It meant that they had been the first to die, too.
He had been the youngest in the family when the war started, and when it ended he was the only one left. If not for the High Circle taking Lysander in, the grief would have driven him insane.
Milo continued, “We distrust humans and I know there are some who still harbor great bitterness for the lack of help we received in the past war. If we send one of our own, the past may color his or her judgment and prevent the Alliance from being fulfilled.”
Milo looked at each member of the High Circle one by one, demanding all of their attention. “All the races need this Alliance to survive. We know so little of our enemies, but it is clear to us all that something – someone - powerful is leading them, one that’s utterly evil. Our true enemy wears the face of a vampire, but we all know it can’t be.”
Lysander knew Milo was speaking the truth. Vampires were ruled by their thirst for blood, and only something more powerful could prevent them from succumbing to their base and greedy desires. Something more powerful and
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