Page 9 of Magic Unmasked

“You’re playing with fire, Zephyr,” a woman’s voice said, her tone low and serious.

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” came the reply, a deep, smooth voice filled with quiet conviction.

Lilith froze.Zephyr Windchaser?She knew the name well—one of the fae’s most influential leaders, once considered a staunch ally of the Fae High Council. His presence here, in a hidden enclave, sent alarm bells ringing in her mind.

Walking around the corner, Lilith saw them—Zephyr Windchaser, tall and imposing, his long white hair flowing over his shoulders, standing with a small group of fae. They were gathered around a stone table, their faces cast in shadow, but there was no mistaking the tension in the air.

“I’ve grown tired of the Council’s rule,” Zephyr continued, his voice carrying the load of centuries of frustration. “They’ve grown complacent, corrupt. It’s time for a change.”

The woman who had spoken earlier, her features sharp and fey, frowned. “And you think you can overthrow them?”

Zephyr’s eyes gleamed in the moonlight, a dangerous spark lighting within them. “Not think. Know.”

Lilith’s breath caught in her throat. Overthrow the High Council? Was he serious?

“The Duvall sisters will be the key,” Zephyr went on, his tone filled with quiet confidence.

“Not as powerful as they once were,” snorted Lilith.

“And why do you think that is?”

Lilith shrugged. “How should I know? They’re only half-fae to begin with. That hybrid lineage once gave them unique abilities, but they’ve squandered it chasing after all kinds of supernaturals instead of leaving that to others. Their fae magic has started to clash with their human frailties. While their fae blood gave them strength, their human side anchored them to mortality and the weaknesses that came with it.”

“Agreed,” said Zephyr with a nod. “And then there’s the death of Vesper Nightshade, a centuries-old vampire queen.”

“Why would that affect all of them? It was only Savannah who was involved.”

“Yes, but the vampire queen’s death triggered an imbalance in the magical fabric of New Orleans. The Duvall sisters had long drawn on the ambient magic of New Orleans to amplify their own powers, but now that connection is weakened.”

“So the Council is trying to bring them back into the fold.”

Zephyr grinned. “Believe what you like, but think about it. Why didn’t the Council move when they were almost at full strength? The Duvall sisters are far more powerful than the Council knows. With them on our side, we can take the council down and establish a new order—one where the fae are truly free.”

A chill ran down Lilith’s spine. This wasn’t just rebellion. This was treason.

“You’re a madman.”

“Maybe,” said Zephyr quietly. “But it doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

Her heart pounded as she took in Zephyr’s words. He wasn’t just some disgruntled fae dissatisfied with the Council’s rule—he was planning a full-scale coup, and he was enlisting the help of the Duvall sisters to do it.

Everything Lilith had ever believed in, everything she had fought for, suddenly felt fragile. She had always known the Council could be ruthless, but they were necessary. Weren’t they? The fae realm had been stable for centuries under their rule. Could Zephyr be right? Could the Council be hiding something far darker beneath their polished surface?

No. She couldn’t allow herself to doubt. Not now. She had her orders, and she was bound by duty to carry them out. But the crack in her faith had already formed, and with every passing second, it widened.

Lilith stepped back into the shadows, her mind racing. She had to act, and soon. But for the first time in her long life, she wasn’t sure who the true enemy was.

What if the Duvalls weren’t the threat she had been led to believe?

Chapter

Four

RONAN

Ronan prowled the streets of New Orleans, his stride long and purposeful, last night’s battle still weighing heavily. The taste of it—the blood, the ash, the chaos—clung to him like a bitter poison. He couldn’t shake the restless energy coursing through his veins. His tiger stirred beneath the surface, agitated and ready for action, eager to sink claws and fangs into the next threat. But it wasn’t just the battle that had him on edge.

It washer.

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