Chapter 109

The summit day arrived with a pale autumn sun filtering through the canopy of Lockewood Forest. Shea stood before the mirror in Achilles' room—their room now—adjusting the silver pendant that hung at her throat. The crescent mark on her wrist pulsed faintly, as if sensing the importance of the day ahead.

"Nervous?" Achilles appeared behind her, his reflection joining hers in the mirror. He wore a charcoal suit that complemented his powerful frame, making him look every bit the heir to the Von Lunar legacy.

"Terrified," Shea admitted. "What if they don't accept the new arrangement? What if some of them still want to—"

"Control the wellspring? Control you?" Achilles wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. "They can try."

His confidence steadied her. Three weeks had passed since the night at the old mill, since the wellspring had marked them and cleansed the corruption spreading through Lockewood. Three weeks of recovery, of planning, of learning to navigate her new reality as one of the three Stewards.

A knock at the door interrupted them. Marcus entered without waiting for a response, already dressed in formal attire, his own mark visible on his wrist.

"The Hawkins delegation just arrived," he announced. "Ryder looks... different."

"Different how?" Shea asked.

Marcus considered this. "Less arrogant. More... I don't know, thoughtful? Like someone who's had to grow up very quickly."

Shea nodded. Ryder had lost his father, discovered the depth of Donovan's corruption, and inherited leadership of a faction in crisis—all in one night. The experience had changed him, as the wellspring had changed them all.

"And the others?" Achilles asked.

"All present. Seven faction leaders, plus their seconds." Marcus checked his watch. "The ceremony begins in twenty minutes."

After he left, Shea turned back to the mirror, smoothing her hands over the simple white dress she'd chosen. It felt symbolic somehow—a clean slate, a new beginning.

"Ready?" Achilles asked.

Shea took a deep breath. "As I'll ever be."

\---

The Great Hall of the Von Lunar mansion had been transformed. The long oak table that normally dominated the space had been replaced by a circular arrangement of eight chairs—one for each faction leader, plus one that would remain empty, symbolizing the wellspring itself.

As Shea entered with Achilles and Marcus flanking her, the assembled leaders rose. She recognized most of them now: Ryder Hawkins, looking solemn in dark blue; Elena Blackwood, her silver hair gleaming in the light from the windows; the twins Cassius and Cora Thornfield, identical except for their eyes; Olivia Reed, her face still bearing a thin scar from the battle; and Samuel Grey, the oldest of the faction leaders, leaning slightly on an ornate cane.

Lucius stood at the head of the circle, with Emilia beside him. He nodded as they approached.

"We are gathered today," he began, his voice carrying easily through the hall, "to formalize a new covenant between the factions of Lockewood. For too long, we have been divided, weakened by our own ambitions and fears. The corruption of the wellspring nearly destroyed us all."

He gestured to Shea, Achilles, and Marcus. "But through the actions of these three, the balance has been restored. The wellspring has chosen its Stewards, and we would be wise to heed its wisdom."

Ryder stepped forward. There was a new gravity to him, a weight of responsibility that had been absent before.

"The Hawkins faction acknowledges the crimes of its former leader," he said, his voice steady despite the emotion behind his words. "My father's actions cannot be undone, but I pledge that under my leadership, we will work to heal the damage he caused."

One by one, the other faction leaders spoke, each acknowledging past grievances and committing to the new peace. When they finished, Lucius produced an ancient leather-bound book.

"This is the original covenant of Lockewood," he explained. "Written when the first werewolves settled here, before the factions formed. Today, we add a new chapter."

He opened the book to a fresh page. In the center was a circular symbol—the wellspring, surrounded by eight smaller crescents representing the factions.

"The Stewards will maintain the balance of the wellspring," Lucius continued. "They will remain neutral in faction disputes and will have the authority to intervene if the peace is threatened."

Shea stepped forward, suddenly aware of all eyes on her. "We don't seek to rule," she said, finding her voice stronger than she expected. "Only to preserve what makes Lockewood special—for all of us."

One by one, the faction leaders approached the book, signing their names beneath the new covenant. When it was Ryder's turn, he paused, looking directly at Shea.

"I owe you an apology," he said quietly. "For everything."

Shea nodded, recognizing the sincerity in his eyes. "We all have a chance to do better now."

After the signing, the formal part of the summit gave way to a more relaxed gathering. Servants circulated with drinks and food as the faction leaders mingled, many speaking civilly to rivals for the first time in years.

Shea found herself by one of the tall windows, watching the interaction with a sense of cautious optimism. Achilles joined her, handing her a glass of champagne.

"To new beginnings," he said, clinking his glass against hers.

"Do you think it will last?" she asked.

"The peace?" He considered this. "It won't be perfect. There will still be disagreements, rivalries. But with the wellspring balanced and the three of us watching over it..." He shrugged. "I think we have a chance."

Marcus approached, looking uncharacteristically relaxed. "Lyra sends her regards. She's settling in well as my second."

Shea smiled. "I'm glad. She deserves a chance to shine."

As they talked, Shea noticed her mother deep in conversation with Samuel Grey. The older werewolf was nodding at something Emilia said, his expression thoughtful.

"What do you think they're discussing?" she asked.

Achilles followed her gaze. "The future, probably. Your mother has spent years away from Lockewood. Now that she's back, she'll want to reclaim her place in the community."

"And what about us?" Shea asked, looking between Achilles and Marcus. "What does our future look like?"

Marcus smiled slightly. "Busy, I imagine. The wellspring may be healed, but it still needs protection. And there's still much about being Stewards that we don't understand."

"We'll learn together," Achilles said, his hand finding Shea's, their marks glowing faintly at the contact. "Day by day."
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