Page 58 of Impawssible Magic

“It’s also nauseating,” Veren adds cheerfully. “But in a romantic way. Like watching two people fall into a river—you know it’s going to be a disaster, but you can’t look away.”

Rhodes pinches the bridge of his nose. “Is there ever a meeting where you don’t make everything worse?”

“You’d miss me if I stopped.”

“I would not.”

“You absolutely would. Who else would keep you entertained during Caius’s strategy briefings?”

“The strategy briefings are important⁠—”

“Gentlemen.” Caius’s voice carries the particular exhaustion of someone who has mediated this exact argument approximately nine hundred times. “Focus.”

One by one, the other alphas voice their support. Kief, the mountain lion, offers his cats for perimeter patrol. Veren’s foxes will handle intelligence gathering, spreading disinformation and tracking Preserver movements. Even the representatives from the smaller groups fall in line.

The Network is going to war.

“We need a plan.” Caius spreads a map of Mistvale across the table. “The Preservers have been operating from the shadows. We need to draw them out.”

“Use Leire as bait.” The words come from Elio, but they echo what I’ve been thinking—and dreading. “She’s what they want. If she appears vulnerable, isolated, they’ll move.”

My tiger snarls. Every instinct screams against this plan. The thought of her out there, exposed, waiting for enemies to come for her⁠—

“She’s already suggested it.” I force the words out through clenched teeth. “She wants to end this. Permanently.”

“And you’re willing to risk her safety?” Rhodes’s skepticism is sharp. “For someone you claim is your mate, you seem very willing to put her in danger.”

“I’m not willing to do anything.” I lean forward, hands braced on the table. “If she wants to fight, I’m not going to insult her by refusing.”

“He’s right.” Torin’s voice is calm, steady—the voice of reason in a room full of predators. “These witches—Leire, Sakura, the others—they’re not damsels. They’re survivors. Treating them like fragile objects won’t protect them. It’ll just piss them off.”

A few reluctant laughs break the tension. Even Rhodes grins.

“So we use her as bait.” Caius taps the map. “But controlled bait. We choose the location. Set up surveillance. Have forces ready to move the moment the Preservers show themselves.”

“The Warding Line.” I point to the edge of town, where the protections grow thin. “They’ve been operating near there—the mill where we found her familiar. If we stage things near the boundary, they’ll think she’s vulnerable.”

“What kind of staging?”

“Make it look like she’s trying to break the control magic on her own. Away from backup. Desperate to save her familiar.” I hate every word of this plan, but it’s solid. “The Preservers want to eliminate the threat quietly. A lone witch, isolated and distracted? They won’t be able to resist.”

Elio nods slowly. “I can spread disinformation through my channels. Make sure the Preservers hear that she’s planning something reckless.”

“And when they come?” Rhodes drums his fingers on the table. “We need numbers. Coordination. If they send more than a handful of agents⁠—”

“They will.” Veren’s voice loses its playful edge, going sharp and certain. “This is their endgame. They’ve been building to this for years. They’ll send everything they have.”

“Then we send everything we have.” Caius looks around the room, meeting each alpha’s eyes in turn. “Every alpha. Every second. Every fighter we can spare without leaving our territories exposed. We end this in one strike.”

The weight of it settles over the room. This isn’t a skirmish or a patrol. This is war—the kind that changes things permanently.

Caius’s voice carries the finality of command. “We stage the trap. Draw them out. And when they come for her...”

“We tear them apart.” The growl vibrates through my chest.

No one argues.

The meeting breaks up slowly. I should stay—should coordinate with Torin, review terrain with Rhodes. Instead I’m walking toward The Hollow.