Defy The Alpha(s)

Chapter 884: Become The Anchor

At the same time in Duskmoon Village, six witches were seated around a wooden table. They were the six coven leaders, or as Ziva preferred to call them, the Coven Mothers.

Each one looked vastly different from the other, their appearances influenced by the traditions of their respective covens.

The oldest among them, Florence, sat closest to Ziva’s right. Her dark hair was braided with tiny bones and beads woven through it, while her aged fingers were stained permanently black from years of potion work.

Beside her sat Mother Kira, a dark-skinned witch with white paint drawn across her throat and forehead in ritualistic markings. Gold rings decorated nearly every finger she possessed.

Another, named Sakura, had long locs adorned with charms, feathers, and dried flowers. The woman wore enough layered necklaces to nearly cover her chest entirely.

At the opposite end sat the thin, sharp-faced Mother Yara whose scalp was partially shaved except for a thick braid running down the center of her head. Strange runes had been tattooed along both arms.

As for the remaining two witches, one of them was blind while the other possessed eyes so pale they barely looked human.

They came from different covens and practiced different customs, but all of them ultimately served Angus.

Yes, they were significantly older than Ziva herself, which made the tension in the room all the more interesting. Despite their age and experience, every single one of them sat carefully around Angus’s crazy daughter.

Her mother Sarah had once been one of the strongest and most respected coven leaders, and yet Ziva had murdered her in cold blood. That crime still lingered fresh in their memories, and none of them wished to be next.

Seated confidently at the head of the table, Ziva tapped her fingers lazily against the armrest.

"The reason I invited you here tonight, Coven Mothers," she began, "is because our Supreme Alpha requires your assistance once more."

The room remained silent.

"We achieved victory today," Ziva continued, "but the battle remains incomplete until our enemy’s greatest weapon is subdued. And we are speaking about Violet Purple."

That got an immediate reaction, one Ziva had fully expected.

Every witch in Duskmoon Village knew about Angus’s child with the Fae Queen.

Fortunately for them, they also knew Ziva, and they knew better than to look impressed by Violet in her presence.

Florence was the first to speak.

"I thought Violet Purple was still trapped in the Fae realm."

"She was," Ziva answered calmly. "I monitored fluctuations in magical energy, and hours ago, I sensed a surge akin to hers."

Of course, Ziva already knew Violet would return eventually after carving that message into Roman’s back. That had been the entire point.

Her eyes gleamed coldly.

"She’s back."

A low murmur spread around the table.

"And my guess," Ziva added, "is that she’s currently hiding away in Lunaris Academy with the others like cowards."

"Doesn’t that mean we’re short on time?" Mother Yara asked. "Last I checked, wolves become violently possessive where their mates are concerned." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "And we currently possess one of hers."

A slow smile spread across Ziva’s face.

"That is exactly what I’m counting on."

Something chilling moved through her voice, enough to make the witches exchange uneasy glances. Ziva’s eyes practically glittered with whatever twisted plans were brewing inside her head.

"But isn’t she powerful?" Sakura asked cautiously.

That question clearly irritated Ziva despite how carefully it had been phrased.

Still, she answered.

"Yes," Ziva admitted stiffly. "Violet is powerful. But she is still only one person, and there’s only so much one person can do."

Her fingers drummed once against the table.

"Killing her would certainly solve many problems, but unfortunately, the Supreme Alpha believes Violet would be far more useful alive."

Several witches visibly relaxed at that. They had just finished a brutal battle and lost many of their sisters. Fighting a powerful hybrid was bound to come with losses they were not eager to suffer again.

Ziva noticed. Fortunately for them, she was in no mood to care.

"The problem," she said darkly, "is that Violet does not share our interests. That is why my father has tasked us with finding a way to control her."

The witches immediately began murmuring amongst themselves, shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

How exactly were they supposed to control someone like Violet Purple? Even magic had its limits.

"Well?" Ziva demanded, her gaze sweeping across the table. "I’m waiting for answers."

Silence answered her.

The Coven Mothers exchanged uneasy glances amongst themselves, their hesitation obvious enough to irritate Ziva further. It was clear none of them had an immediate solution, but unfortunately for them, this was not a room where silence was tolerated for long.

With Ziva involved, if answers did not come soon, heads would eventually start rolling.

Finally, Mother Florence cleared her throat carefully.

"Don’t we have her mate Roman Draven? We could simply threaten to kill him if Violet refuses to obey the Supreme Alpha’s demands."

Ziva stared at her blankly for a moment, then burst into a cold laughter.

"If that idea were foolproof," she replied with biting mockery, "do you honestly think I wouldn’t have suggested it already?"

Florence stiffened.

"Or is old age finally catching up to you?" Ziva continued cruelly. "Perhaps it truly is time we replaced some leadership positions around here. Younger witches might actually possess functioning brain cells."

Mother Florence flushed deeply beneath the insult but said nothing. What could she say? Ziva was unstable enough to act on such threats.

"Is that really the best all of you have?" Ziva glared at them.

The look exchanged between the witches this time carried reproach. If Ziva was truly so brilliant, perhaps she should have come with a solution herself. Of course, none of them were suicidal enough to voice that thought aloud.

Mother Sakura spoke instead.

"I don’t believe Florence’s idea is entirely useless," she said with caution. "It simply requires more precise planning."

Ziva motioned impatiently for her to continue.

"Once Violet surrenders herself," Sakura explained, "we could place suppressor collars on her. If her powers remain restrained, the Supreme Alpha could use her however he wishes."

Ziva immediately shot the idea down.

"And what happens when she escapes?" she snapped. "Or do you somehow believe her other mates would not come for her? We barely even know how Violet’s powers function!"

Sakura lowered her gaze immediately, humiliation spreading visibly across her face.

Ziva rubbed slowly at her temples, already feeling a headache beginning to form. This was exactly why she hated working with older witches. They were slow and too stuck in outdated thinking.

"You’re all missing the point," Ziva told them. "My father doesn’t need temporary obedience, he needs complete surrender. No matter what prison we place Violet in, she will eventually escape with time because she’s powerful enough to do so."

The admission tasted bitter coming from her.

"But if we break her spirit first..."

A slow smile spread across Ziva’s lips.

"No," she corrected. "If we turn her into my father’s obedient little soldier, a weapon that exists solely to receive and carry out his orders, that would be perfect."

Something deeply twisted flickered through Ziva’s expression at the thought. If Violet became nothing more than Angus’s hollow servant, then there would no longer be anyone competing for Angus’s attention.

"We bind her spirit." someone said.

Every head turned immediately toward the blind witch seated near the far end of the table.

Even Ziva straightened up, interest flashed across her face.

"What do you mean by that, Mother Edith?"

The blind witch slowly lifted one wrinkled hand.

"To control the body," Edith explained, "you must first bind the spirit. There is an old ritual mentioned within one of our sacred texts. A ritual capable of breaking a person’s will entirely."

A proud smile immediately spread across Ziva’s face. Finally, something useful.

"Then what are we waiting for?" she demanded eagerly. "Let’s begin preparing it immediately."

But Edith remained unruffled.

"Such rituals are dangerous," she warned. "Especially when the victim possesses a spirit powerful enough to resist."

That dampened the excitement slightly.

"And there is another problem," Edith added. "We require Violet’s blood."

Ziva’s expression darkened instantly.

"We don’t have her blood," she said irritably. "Nor do we have the luxury of time needed to obtain it or the means to." There was urgency to her words.

Then the pale-eyed witch finally spoke for the first time.

"You may not need Violet’s blood directly."

Everyone looked toward Mother Eleanor.

The pale witch folded her hands neatly together.

"Your blood will suffice."

Ziva blinked in surprise.

"Excuse me?"

Eleanor’s pale gaze settled directly on her.

"You and Violet share the same father. Blood recognizes blood. That connection is enough for the ritual to identify its target. Now the question becomes this..."

Though blind, it somehow felt like she was staring directly into Ziva’s soul.

"Are you willing to become the anchor for the ritual despite the risks involved?"