Chapter 98

The sound of footsteps made them spring apart. Alaric stood at the end of the hallway, his expression carefully neutral despite catching them in an intimate moment.

"Master Lucius requests your presence downstairs," Alaric said, adjusting his bow tie. "The cars are ready for departure."

Shea smoothed her dress while Achilles ran a hand through his hair, trying to fix what her fingers had mussed. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she avoided Alaric's knowing gaze.

"Thank you, Alaric. We'll be right down," Achilles cleared his throat, his voice slightly hoarse.

Alaric gave a small bow and turned on his heel, but not before they caught the hint of an amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Well, that was..." Shea trailed off, fighting back a nervous laugh.

"Could have been worse. Could have been my father," Achilles muttered, reaching out to fix a strand of her hair that had come loose.

They shared a look that was equal parts embarrassment and lingering desire before heading toward the stairs, maintaining a respectable distance between them. The memory of their interrupted kiss still tingled on their lips as they descended to join the others.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the mansion's circular driveway where three black SUVs idled. Lucius stood beside the lead vehicle, checking his watch as Achilles and Shea approached.

"There you are." Lucius's commanding presence drew their attention. "Shea, you'll ride with me in the first car. Achilles, take the second with Marcus."

Shea caught Achilles's slight frown before he masked it. She understood his reluctance to be separated, but neither questioned Lucius's arrangement.

"The old church is about an hour's drive," Lucius explained as they settled into their seats. "The neutral grounds have been secured by representatives from all factions."

Through the tinted windows, Shea watched the mansion recede as their convoy pulled away. The woods grew denser as they traveled deeper into Lockewood's outskirts. Lucius remained quiet beside her, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

The setting sun painted the sky in shades of orange and purple by the time the church's weathered spire came into view. The stone structure loomed against the darkening sky, its Gothic architecture a reminder of a bygone era. Several other vehicles were already parked in the gravel lot.

"Remember," Lucius said as their driver pulled up to the entrance, "whatever happens in there, maintain your composure. The other factions will be looking for any sign of weakness."

Shea nodded, smoothing her dress as she stepped out. Achilles was immediately at her side, his presence steady and reassuring. The heavy wooden doors of the church creaked open, revealing flickering candlelight within.

Marcus joined them, adjusting his suit jacket. "Showtime," he muttered under his breath.

The ancient church's vaulted ceiling disappeared into shadows above, its stone walls lined with weathered statues of saints watching over the gathering. Wooden pews had been pushed to the sides, creating an open space in the nave where faction leaders and their chosen representatives stood in distinct groups. Candles flickered in iron holders along the walls, casting dancing shadows across stern faces.

Shea counted at least thirty people, their supernatural presence making the air thick with tension. Each faction had brought their strongest members, power radiating off them in waves that made her skin prickle.

Donovan Hawkins stood near the altar, his expensive suit failing to hide the predator beneath. His cold eyes fixed on their group as they entered, a calculating smile playing at his lips. Beside him, Ryder shifted with barely contained aggression.

Achilles's fists clenched at his sides, but Shea placed a gentle hand on his arm. His muscles relaxed slightly at her touch, though his jaw remained tight.

Lucius moved with fluid grace, his presence commanding respect as he led their group forward. His aura of authority seemed to push against the others', creating invisible boundaries in the space. Behind him, Marcus moved with similar confidence, his eyes alert and watchful.

As they took their position, Shea studied the other faction leaders. Each carried themselves differently - the Silverfang leader stood rigid and militant, while Nightshade's representative seemed to blend with the shadows. The Wolf Nation's alpha emanated raw, untamed power, and the Crimson Brotherhood's leader watched everything through half-lidded eyes that missed nothing.

Shea drew herself up straighter, steadying her nerves. Though surrounded by generations of supernatural power, she refused to show fear. These were the players in Lockewood's dangerous game, and she was no longer just a piece on their board.

Marcus strode toward the ancient stone altar, his movements measured and purposeful. As leader of the Ember Watch faction, he carried the weight of maintaining balance between humans and supernatural beings. His faction stood as mediators and peacekeepers.

The candlelight seemed to respond to his presence, flames dancing higher as he took his position. His dark clothing, adorned with subtle flame motifs, absorbed the flickering light while his eyes held a faint ember glow - a mark of his faction's power.

"We gather tonight," Marcus's voice carried through the church's vast space, "to address the impending conflict between the Von Lunar and Hawkins factions." His gaze swept across the assembled supernatural beings. "The matter concerns Shea Wolfe, daughter of Vincent Wolfe, and the proposed terms of combat between our two oldest families."

The air grew heavy with tension as Marcus continued, "Donovan Hawkins has challenged the Von Lunar faction to trial by combat. The victor will gain guardianship of Shea Wolfe." His words echoed off the stone walls, each faction leader's expression revealing varying degrees of interest and calculation.

Shea felt the weight of dozens of supernatural gazes upon her. Beside her, Achilles maintained his protective stance, while Lucius stood tall and unaffected by the mounting pressure in the room. The Ember Watch members positioned around Marcus remained vigilant, their hands ready to summon flames at the first sign of trouble.

Marcus's voice faded into silence, his eyes scanning the gathered leaders. The candlelight cast dancing shadows across stern faces as they considered his words.

The Silverfang leader stepped forward first, his military bearing evident in every movement. "The Silverfang faction acknowledges this challenge but maintains neutrality in this conflict." His crisp voice carried through the church.

From the shadows, the Nightshade representative emerged partially. "We have concerns about the power dynamics this combat could shift." Her voice was smooth as silk. "However, we too shall remain neutral observers."

The Wolf Nation's alpha let out a low growl. "The wild ones watch with interest. The old blood runs strong." His eyes fixed on Shea for a moment before returning to Marcus.

The Crimson Brotherhood's leader remained still, offering only a slight nod to indicate they had nothing to add.

Donovan Hawkins stepped forward, his expensive suit rustling in the silence. "I merely wish to add that this challenge is issued with the utmost respect for tradition." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "The Hawkins faction seeks only to restore proper order to Lockewood's hierarchy."

Lucius Von Lunar maintained his stoic expression, though his eyes hardened at Donovan's words. He remained silent, letting the implied threat hang in the air.

Marcus nodded to each leader in turn, acknowledging their positions. "Does anyone else wish to speak on this matter?"

A slender hand rose into the flickering candlelight. All eyes turned to Shea as she stepped forward, her shoulders squared despite the weight of supernatural gazes upon her.

"I wish to speak." Her voice carried through the church with unexpected strength.

She felt Achilles's presence behind her, solid and reassuring. The memory of her father's final sacrifice flashed through her mind, fueling her resolve.

"You all speak of me as if I'm a prize to be won," Shea's voice grew firmer. "But I am Vincent Wolfe's daughter. His blood runs through my veins, and with it, his strength and determination."

The candlelight caught the tears threatening to spill from her eyes, but she blinked them back. "My father died protecting me from those who would use me for their own gain. And now I stand here, not as a helpless pawn, but as someone who has discovered her own power."

She turned to face Donovan directly. "You may challenge the Von Lunars, but know this - I choose to stand with them. Not because of tradition or hierarchy, but because they have shown me what true protection means. They have taught me to harness my strength, just as my father would have wanted."

Her gaze swept across the gathered leaders. "I am not a prize in your power games. I am Shea Wolfe, and I will fight alongside those who have earned my trust and loyalty."

The church fell silent as her words echoed off the ancient stones. Even Marcus seemed taken aback by the authority in her voice. Beside her, Achilles's pride radiated like a physical force, while Lucius's slight nod conveyed his approval.