he’d placed in the
center of the clearing and blew a small tendril of smoke over it. The writing
on the front swirled, and he let out a stream of fire, igniting the words. His
name on the front burned, and then, in the blink of an eye, he found himself in
the foyer of an immense building he’d never entered in all his life.
He had heard of the Conclave and knew what to do with the
summons, but he’d never been there before.
He prayed he would be allowed to leave.
He prayed he’d never have to come again.
The building was a large ornate structure with intricate
carvings that depicted various paranormals. If he were to look around the
entire thing, he guessed that every paranormal in existence would be
represented. The ceiling was a gold-painted dome that, oddly enough, didn’t
look ostentatious. It merely suited the grandness of the building.
Dante took a deep breath through his nose, trying to scent
where he was but came up empty. He’d been to every realm there was and knew their
scents. Even if the overall layers would change, the basic principles of each
realm would remain the same, meaning Dante would be able to recognize it no
matter what.
Since he couldn’t distinguish the scent, that meant he was
in a realm he’d never been in before.
Astonishing.
Not that he wanted to spend any more time here than
necessary. Oh no, he wanted to go back to Nadie and Jace as soon as he could.
Preferably now.
He inhaled again and caught the barest of scents of the
others in the building. He had a feeling once he was let through the large
doors—large enough to let him and his entire wingspan through—he’d be able to
scent the entirety of the Conclave. There must have been a type of dampening
spell on the actual room where they met.
Dante wasn’t even sure if the Conclave was made up of
supernaturals who never left this realm or if they were actually supernaturals
who lived within their own realms with their own hidden identities.
For all he thought he knew, he really didn’t know much.
“Dante Bell, do enter.” A disembodied voice echoed through
the foyer, and Dante steeled himself. He would not act like a new shifter and
show any form of fear or even awe at what he saw.
After all, he was old enough that not much surprised him.
The large doors opened of their own accord, and Dante
stepped through them with his head held high. They might have summoned him, but
he’d be damned if he’d let them know he had something to lose.
That was the first step in protecting those you cared
about—not letting others know they were your weakness.
“I see you’ve finally answered the summons,” a djinn said
from his chair.
The room was so immense that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to
see everyone without his keen eyesight. From what he knew, there were around
five hundred different paranormals. At least. That meant there were over a
thousand leaders in this room, sitting two by two, their chairs and seating
areas looking more like opera boxes than anything else. The boxes, for lack of
a better word, rose up to the ceiling where the others could look down at Dante
standing in the center of the room.
As a dragon, he was the largest of paranormal creatures, yet
right then, he’d never felt so insignificant. So small.
“I’ve come as requested,” he said, his voice low, bland. He
didn’t want to show them any inkling of where his thoughts might lie. He knew
they were powerful, but he didn’t know how powerful they were.
He’d like to be able to live to see Nadie and Jace again.
“You could have been quicker,” a merman said from his small
pool within his box, his fin carelessly swishing water on the floor in front of
Dante.
From the look on the merman’s face, maybe it wasn’t so
careless as much as it was deliberate. He hated politics and mind games, and
he’d just wandered into the Olympic version of lies and blind truths.
“I arrived as directed,” Dante said, his tone as bland as he
could make
center of the clearing and blew a small tendril of smoke over it. The writing
on the front swirled, and he let out a stream of fire, igniting the words. His
name on the front burned, and then, in the blink of an eye, he found himself in
the foyer of an immense building he’d never entered in all his life.
He had heard of the Conclave and knew what to do with the
summons, but he’d never been there before.
He prayed he would be allowed to leave.
He prayed he’d never have to come again.
The building was a large ornate structure with intricate
carvings that depicted various paranormals. If he were to look around the
entire thing, he guessed that every paranormal in existence would be
represented. The ceiling was a gold-painted dome that, oddly enough, didn’t
look ostentatious. It merely suited the grandness of the building.
Dante took a deep breath through his nose, trying to scent
where he was but came up empty. He’d been to every realm there was and knew their
scents. Even if the overall layers would change, the basic principles of each
realm would remain the same, meaning Dante would be able to recognize it no
matter what.
Since he couldn’t distinguish the scent, that meant he was
in a realm he’d never been in before.
Astonishing.
Not that he wanted to spend any more time here than
necessary. Oh no, he wanted to go back to Nadie and Jace as soon as he could.
Preferably now.
He inhaled again and caught the barest of scents of the
others in the building. He had a feeling once he was let through the large
doors—large enough to let him and his entire wingspan through—he’d be able to
scent the entirety of the Conclave. There must have been a type of dampening
spell on the actual room where they met.
Dante wasn’t even sure if the Conclave was made up of
supernaturals who never left this realm or if they were actually supernaturals
who lived within their own realms with their own hidden identities.
For all he thought he knew, he really didn’t know much.
“Dante Bell, do enter.” A disembodied voice echoed through
the foyer, and Dante steeled himself. He would not act like a new shifter and
show any form of fear or even awe at what he saw.
After all, he was old enough that not much surprised him.
The large doors opened of their own accord, and Dante
stepped through them with his head held high. They might have summoned him, but
he’d be damned if he’d let them know he had something to lose.
That was the first step in protecting those you cared
about—not letting others know they were your weakness.
“I see you’ve finally answered the summons,” a djinn said
from his chair.
The room was so immense that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to
see everyone without his keen eyesight. From what he knew, there were around
five hundred different paranormals. At least. That meant there were over a
thousand leaders in this room, sitting two by two, their chairs and seating
areas looking more like opera boxes than anything else. The boxes, for lack of
a better word, rose up to the ceiling where the others could look down at Dante
standing in the center of the room.
As a dragon, he was the largest of paranormal creatures, yet
right then, he’d never felt so insignificant. So small.
“I’ve come as requested,” he said, his voice low, bland. He
didn’t want to show them any inkling of where his thoughts might lie. He knew
they were powerful, but he didn’t know how powerful they were.
He’d like to be able to live to see Nadie and Jace again.
“You could have been quicker,” a merman said from his small
pool within his box, his fin carelessly swishing water on the floor in front of
Dante.
From the look on the merman’s face, maybe it wasn’t so
careless as much as it was deliberate. He hated politics and mind games, and
he’d just wandered into the Olympic version of lies and blind truths.
“I arrived as directed,” Dante said, his tone as bland as he
could make
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