A Witch’s Fine Print

"Your Honor, my client performed an experimental spell as stated in the form. The Marceaus were informed. They signed a contract, and got exactly what they paid for," Vivi Kane declared, gesturing toward the nervous witch at her side.

The courtroom was a mix of marble grandeur and magical chaos, the kind of place where even the chandeliers occasionally flickered with supernatural energy. Behind the polished podiums, Vivi stood tall—at least in attitude. Her crimson blazer hugged her soft curves, her auburn hair refusing to stay neatly pinned in place, and her sharp hazel eyes dared anyone to challenge her.

Across the aisle, the Marceaus, a vampire couple with unfortunate matching tusks where their fangs used to be, glared daggers at her. Their lawyer, a pompous vampire in a pinstripe suit, leaned forward with a smug smile. "Your Honor, my clients wanted stronger fangs, not ivory canines the size of steak knives. This isn't just magical malpractice—it's emotional devastation."

"Devastation?" Vivi snorted. "Your clients are immortal. If they don't like their tusks, they'll get over it in—what?—a century?"

The courtroom rippled with laughter, even from the vampire bailiff standing at the door. Vivi's wit had a way of cutting through the stiffest of Council proceedings.

The sphinx judge adjusted her golden spectacles and arched a regal brow. "Ms. Kane, are you arguing that magical misfortune is... buyer beware?"

"Your Honor, I'm arguing that when someone signs a supernatural contract without reading the fine print, they have no one to blame but themselves." Vivi leaned on the podium, flashing a grin. "Honestly, tusks aren't the worst thing that could've happened. What if their heads turned into pumpkins? Or their skin sparkled?"

Another wave of laughter echoed, and Vivi caught her client's nervous glance. She gave the young witch a small nod of reassurance. Her Omega Insight, a supernatural ability she barely understood, flared to life in her periphery:

[Wisteria Craven]

Class: Hedge Witch

Mood: Terrified

Thought: If she loses, I'm doomed.

Vivi sighed internally. Her Insight was about as thrilling as her grandmother's knitting tutorials. Every once in a while, the game-like system that governed her family's Omega lineage popped up with something useful—just not today.

She dismissed the screen and turned back to the judge, who seemed faintly amused. "Ms. Kane, your defense is creative, but I'll need more time to deliberate. Court is adjourned."

With a dismissive rap of her gavel, the judge ended the session.

Vivi gathered her papers quickly, eager to get out of the courtroom and grab dumplings from her favorite food stall. But just as she slung her bag over her shoulder, the telltale ding of her game system made her pause.

Reward Earned: Negotiation Skill (Minor)

You've impressed the Council courtroom with your wit!

+2 Negotiation

"Great," she muttered. "That'll come in handy next time I'm bargaining for my landlord to fix the radiator."

Her victory was short-lived, as a familiar, gravelly voice stopped her cold.

"Kane."

She turned to see Callum Dorian, Alpha of the Northern Ridge pack, standing in the courtroom doorway. He was the kind of man who could make a leather jacket look like formal wear, his towering frame and rugged jawline practically daring anyone to cross him. His steel-gray eyes locked onto hers with the intensity of a predator who'd just found his target.

"Oh no," Vivi said flatly. "What do you want?"

Callum's lips twitched, but there was no humor in his expression. "We've got a problem."

"You always have problems," she shot back. "I just make them look like someone else's fault."

He ignored her quip and stepped closer, holding out a photograph. "Felicity Graves is dead. And they think I killed her."

The photograph showed a bloodied ceremonial blade on the floor of a gallery. Runes carved into its steel glowed faintly, thrumming with ancient power.

Vivi recognized it instantly. "Is that—"

"My pack's heirloom," Callum growled. "It was stolen a month ago. And now it's the murder weapon."

Vivi narrowed her eyes. Her Insight flickered to life again:

[Callum Dorian]

Class: Alpha Werewolf

Mood: Furious

Thought: This better not be another bureaucratic circus.

"Oh, this is rich," she said, slipping the photo into her bag. "So someone steals your fancy knife, uses it to murder the most hated woman in the supernatural world, and now you're the scapegoat? That's a little on the nose, don't you think?"

"Tell that to the Council," Callum snapped. "They want a quick resolution. I'm the obvious target."

"And what do you want from me? I'm a lawyer, not a detective."

"The Council told me to come to you. Something about your 'unparalleled ability to handle disasters.'" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Vivi groaned, rubbing her temples. "They only say that because I'm the idiot who took your case during the pack war. Twice. I'm not running around chasing murderers, Callum."

"Good," he said, folding his arms. "You're terrible at running."

Her mouth fell open in mock outrage. "I will bill you extra for that comment."

"Fine."

"And if I take this case, I'm filing everything—statements, complaints, counter-complaints. We're playing strictly by the book."

Callum smirked, a rare flash of humor softening his otherwise grim demeanor. "You always play by the book. That's why I'm here."

"Flattery won't save you."

"Didn't plan on it," he said, his voice lowering. "I need someone who knows how the Council works—and who isn't afraid to call their bluff."

Vivi sighed. Her Omega Instinct flickered again, this time flashing a warning:

New Quest: The Framed Alpha

Objective: Prove Callum Dorian's innocence.

Reward: Skill Upgrade (Moderate), Unknown Artifact.

"Of course there's a quest," she muttered under her breath.

"What?" Callum asked.

"Nothing," she said quickly. "Fine, I'll take a look. But if this turns into another 'pack crisis,' I'm charging triple my usual rate."

"Deal," he said without hesitation.

She glanced up at him, her sharp eyes narrowing. "You're awfully calm for someone being framed for murder."

"I trust you," Callum said simply, before adding with a wolfish grin, "to be more stubborn than the Council."

Vivi rolled her eyes, walking past him toward the door. "If I end up dead, I'm haunting you."

"Make sure to bill me first," he called after her.