Chapter 5 The Blood of Shadows

"It is the fault of the Nightfang Pack!" one leader shouted, his face flushed with fury.

"They've been fanning the embers of discontent. This is what they do!" Another leader shot back, his voice rising with barely contained anger.

As the Council descended into chaos, Tessa's fingers clenched around the armrest, the strain palpable in the room. Under Damon's leadership, the Nightfang Pack and Silverclaw Pack had always clashed two powerful factions, each vying for dominance. The air was thick with old wounds, political maneuvering, and accusations.

"This infighting will lead nowhere!" Tessa finally barked, pounding her fist on the table. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Her voice was steady, refined by years of political wrangling, but inside, her stomach churned. "We're wasting precious time. The disappearances are still happening. These petty squabbles won't fix anything."

Her eyes flicked to her father, who gave her a subtle nod of approval.

Tessa's gaze swept across the room, taking in the leaders who still gritted their fangs at each other, their hostility palpable. It was the same power struggle they had seen a thousand times before, but this time felt different. Something darker was coming.

Tessa felt Damon's eyes on her, seated far across the table. Their gazes locked, and she felt a flicker of something unspoken competition, yes, but something more. Could they set aside their history for the greater good?

She quickly turned away, not ready to entertain that thought.

Her father's voice cut through the tension like a knife. "Enough!"

His command was firm, his voice laced with frustration. "There is no benefit to this battle. Tessa is right. We must put aside our differences and face the real enemy. But " John was interrupted by an Alpha from the Nightfang Pack.

"We will not "

"Enough!" her father snapped again. "There is no more room for this foolishness." His gaze swept the room, icy and unyielding. "Tessa and Damon will lead the investigation. The rest of you will stay out of their way."

Tessa's heart skipped a beat. Damon. She would have to cooperate with him put aside their personal disagreements for the sake of the pack. It felt uncomfortable, but it was the only choice they had. The weight of that decision pressed down on her chest.

She glanced over at Damon. His expression mirrored her own discomfort. Their history was complicated filled with rivalry, conflict, and unresolved tension. But her father's words were law, and for the moment, they would have to work together.

"We depart at daybreak," Tessa said, her voice strong despite the unease twisting inside her. "We begin with the Market for Witches."

If answers proved elusive there, they would have to look deeper. "The witches know something," she added, her voice steely with determination.

The Council members filed out of the room, casting lingering glances at Tessa and Damon. Her father's hand landed briefly on her shoulder as he passed. "Be cautious, Tessa. Trust no one."

Tessa nodded, but the words twisted in her mind. Trust no one. In a world where alliances shifted like shadows, where secrets were currency, who could she trust?

"This place always gives me the creeps," Damon muttered beside her, his voice low. His sharp eyes scanned the crowd, his posture tense, every muscle alert.

Tessa couldn't help but agree. The Market was a haven for those who dealt in the dark arts, and she had learned long ago to trust no one here. As they passed by stalls selling charms, potions, and arcane trinkets, Tessa's senses were on high alert. She wasn't here for trinkets. She was here for answers.

They passed an old, weathered stall where a pale-skinned, hooded woman watched them closely. Tessa didn't stop, but she felt the woman's eyes on her, piercing, unsettling. The air around them grew heavy, like the world itself was holding its breath.

Tessa's fingers brushed the hilt of her dagger instinctively. They moved on, deeper into the Market, where the crowds thinned out, the atmosphere growing colder with every step. Damon suddenly stopped, his back stiffening. He gestured toward a shadowed doorway at the end of an alley.

Tessa felt an uncomfortable shiver run down her spine. There was something about this place, this moment, that felt wrong. But they had come too far to turn back now.

"Let's go," she said, her voice steady, though her heart beat faster with anticipation.

As they entered the building, the temperature dropped noticeably. Inside, the walls were lined with shadows, thick and oppressive, like the place had not seen light in centuries. This wasn't a shop. This was a hideout a place for those who needed to stay off the grid.

Then, out of the darkness, a towering figure emerged. His cold, calculating eyes locked onto them as he stepped forward from the shadows. Magnus Ravenwood. The banished warlock. His black robes absorbed the light around him, and his presence seemed to darken the room even further.

"You shouldn't be here," Magnus said, his voice low, laced with both a warning and a strange allure.

Tessa's pulse quickened, but she held her ground. "We are not here to cause trouble. We want answers."

Magnus examined them both, a sneer forming on his lips. "Answers? You think I have the answers to bring down this city? You've come to the wrong place."

But Tessa saw something in his eyes a flicker of knowledge, something dangerous lurking just beneath the surface. She knew, deep down, that Magnus possessed secrets, terrible secrets, and the power to unlock them.

Damon's voice was low and controlled, but there was an undeniable edge to it. "We'll do whatever it takes. You know what's happening here. Help us."

Magnus stared at them, narrowing his eyes. "I'll help you." His voice was cold, and something in his gaze shifted. "But not for free."

He led them deeper into the building, through narrow corridors, past secret rooms hidden behind walls that seemed to shift as they passed. The air grew colder, and the faint sounds of chains rattling echoed in the distance. The smell of rot and wet stone hung heavily in the air.

Finally, they stopped before a massive iron door. Magnus turned to them, his expression solemn. "This is where the truth lies. But be warned," he said, his voice dark with foreboding. "What you find behind this door could change everything."

Tessa's heartbeat quickened. She wasn't sure she was ready for what lay beyond, but she couldn't turn back now.

Magnus swung open the door, revealing a chamber that sent a wave of nausea crashing over Tessa. The room was filled with the hollow eyes of prisoners pale, broken figures, their bodies marked with strange, ancient symbols. They barely breathed, their eyes vacant, trapped in a hellish existence.

"They've been testing on them," Magnus said softly, his voice devoid of emotion. "They've been trying to create a new breed of wolves, cursed beyond any natural law. Warlocks and witches have been feeding on the blood of shifters trying to use it to fuel their magic."

Tessa's mind reeled as the horror of the situation sank in. "They want to make an army," she whispered, her voice trembling with disbelief.

Damon's low growl was filled with determination. "We need to stop them."