Page 10 of Wings of Shadow
Cassie straightens. “Actually, I need to speak with Samara—privately.”
Samara steps closer to me, resting a hand on my shoulder. “There’s no need for secrecy,” she says, her voice calm but firm. “I trust both Juliette and Clarissa completely.” Her gaze slides toward Juliette, warm with reverence, then back to me.
Cassandra hesitates, then exhales slowly. “Very well.”
Sam slips onto the chair beside her. “What is it? What’s going on?”
Cassie takes a steadying breath, her hands wringing in her lap. “I wish to extend an invitation to the Ursa clan,” she says, the words rushing out. “A meeting with Gavriil, Vladimir, and you. The Drakens will be there as well.” She purses her lips. “There’s an important announcement I must make—something that could change everything between our families.”
My breath catches in my throat, my heart pounding with a sudden, inexplicable sense of dread. A summit of the most prominent lineages in the supernatural world? What could Cassandra possibly have to say that would require such secrecy, such urgency?
Beside me, Juliette is equally tense.
Sam is nodding slowly, her expression thoughtful. “I’ll talk to my brothers,” she says, resolved. “We’ll be there, Cassandra. Whatever you need, we’ll be there.”
Cassie smiles, a look of relief and gratitude washing over her face. “Dearest Samara,” she adds, reaching out to clasp my friend’s hand. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”
Cassandra takes a brief pause, her demeanor shifting to a more serious and vulnerable state. “We didn’t start off on the best foot, you and I,” she murmurs, her gaze searching Sam’s face for any hint of reaction. “I understand why you might have had your reservations about me, about my relationship with your brother Gavriil.”
Samara opens her mouth as if to speak, but Cassandra holds up a hand. “Please, let me finish,” she says, and her voice trembles slightly. “I realize my situation is... complicated. My pregnancy and my past have caused difficulties for everyone involved.”
Cassie inhales sharply, her shoulders squared as if bracing herself for whatever response might come. “But I want you to know that I am committed to this family, to making things work with Gavriil and with all of you. And I’m hoping that after this meeting, after you hear what I have to say... that maybe you’ll be willing to give me a second chance. To start over and build a real friendship between us.”
For a moment, Samara is silent, her expression unreadable as she weighs Cassandra’s words. My breath hitches as I wait for her response.
Finally, Sam’s features soften. “I’d like that,” she says quietly, sincerely. “I’ve not been the most welcoming, and I apologize. But you’re right. We’re going to be family soon, and that means we need to find a way to work together, to support each other.”
She reaches out, clasping Cassie’s hand more firmly in her own. “So yes, I’m willing to give this a chance. To give us a chance. And I promise that I’ll come to the meeting with an open mind and an open heart, ready to hear whatever it is you have to say.”
Cassandra’s smile widens, joyful tears sparkling in her eyes. “Thank you, Samara,” she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. “For giving me this chance, for believing in me.”
They embrace then, a fierce, heartfelt hug that seems to go on forever. And as I watch them, as I glimpse the love and acceptance radiating out from them, hope and joy surge through me.
As they part, I catch something shift in Cassandra’s expression—a flicker of quiet resolve layered beneath visible relief.
Samara gives her a nod, soft but steady, then glances my way with a wry tilt of her head. “Well, if we’re all going to be family now, I should warn you—Clarissa has a habit of reorganizing people’s lives. With love. And without permission.”
“Hey!” I protest, laughing despite myself. “I prefer calling it ’caring intervention.’”
“Is that what we’re calling it?” Samara grins, the tension in her shoulders easing for the first time since she walked in.
And just like that, the room shifts. The heaviness lifts. For a brief, fragile moment, we’re simply three women in a sunlit room, sharing warmth and teasing smiles like something close to ordinary.
These moments—ephemeral, unspectacular—are the ones I’ve learned to treasure most. In our world, peace is fleeting. But this?
This feels like magic.
7
CLARISSA
The morning air bites at my skin as I descend the grand staircase, my fingers trailing along the cool mahogany banister. Each step creaks softly beneath my feet, echoing through the cavernous stillness of Draken Manor.
I pause at the landing, my gaze drawn to the windows flanking the living room. Outside, the world lies cloaked in a velvet hush—predawn blue stretching across the sky. But there, on the horizon, light begins its slow ascent. Streaks of rose and amber bloom behind the trees, painting the heavens with delicate defiance. No matter how many mornings I witness it, the sight always steals my breath.
And yet, wonder can’t lighten the shadows in my mind.
Last night’s dream still clings to me—visceral, raw. I stood in a wasteland, the bones of our world buried beneath ash. A greenish light pulsed through storm-churned clouds, casting an eerie glow over the fallen. Deverauxs. Drakens. Alexeevs. All of them, lifeless and broken at my feet.
