The training room smelled like old wood, sweat, and the faint iron tinge of blood. The afternoon sun streamed through the high windows, but even the light couldn't drive away the heavy energy that buzzed between Fia and Emiliano.
"Again," Emiliano said, tossing her a towel as she wiped the blood from her lip.
She caught it, tossing it aside without looking.
She was exhausted.
Her muscles ached.
Her wolf was pacing restlessly under her skin, agitated for reasons she couldn’t explain.
But she squared her shoulders and faced him.
"Come on, little wolf," he teased, trying to keep the mood light. "Show me what you've got."
The words hit wrong—
like a slap.
Like a mockery.
Fia felt something snap inside her.
Before she even knew what she was doing, she lunged at him—fast, brutal, animalistic.
Emiliano's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before instinct kicked in.
He sidestepped her charge, spinning to grab her arm, but she twisted, teeth snapping toward his throat with a guttural growl that didn't sound human.
"Fia!" he barked, trying to get through to her.
But she didn’t hear him.
Or if she did, she didn’t care.
Hatred—blistering, blinding hatred—swelled in her chest, making her vision swim red.
Kill him.
Destroy him.
The wolf's rage roared through her like a storm.
Emiliano didn't want to hurt her, but she was fast and wild, clawing at him with a strength that was almost frightening.
He barely managed to trap her arms against her sides, wrestling her to the ground with a forceful grunt.
"Fia—Fia, look at me," he growled, straining to keep her pinned.
Her body thrashed under his, snarling, teeth bared.
"You're not in control. This isn’t you," Emiliano said lowly, his voice rough with emotion. "Your wolf’s reacting to something, bella. Calm down."
Nothing worked.
The wolf refused to listen.
It wasn’t just rage—it was pain and confusion and grief, all tangled into a suffocating knot.
Cristiano stormed into the room, phone to his ear.
"Mia’s coming!" he shouted. "Hold her, Emi!"
Minutes later, Mia burst through the doors, skidding to a halt at the sight of Fia pinned to the ground like a feral creature.
"Fia!" Mia cried, her voice cracking.
The sound pierced the haze strangling Fia's mind.
She jerked her head toward her best friend, recognition flickering in her gold-rimmed eyes.
"Hey, it’s me, okay?" Mia said gently, walking forward even as Cristiano growled a warning behind her. "You're safe. Emiliano's safe. You’re not alone, Fia. I’m here."
Fia whimpered, a heartbreaking sound, and her struggles slowed.
She blinked up at Emiliano, confusion replacing the mindless rage.
Slowly, he released her.
She sat up, breathing heavily, tears spilling down her cheeks without her realizing it.
"I—I don't know what happened," she whispered hoarsely.
"It’s okay," Mia said, gathering her into her arms. "It’s okay, Fia. You’re okay."
Fia clung to her, burying her face against Mia’s shoulder.
The wolf inside her quieted, soothed by the familiar scent of safety and home.
When Emiliano finally sat back, his face was grim. He watched them, a thousand questions burning in his dark eyes.
After a few moments, Mia leaned back and brushed Fia’s hair away from her face.
"You need a break from all this."
She turned to Emiliano. "I'm taking her out for a bit."
Emiliano bristled, crossing his arms.
"I don't know if that's a good idea," he said, voice low. "She's barely stable—"
"Relax," Mia cut him off. "We’re just going to a spa. Somewhere calming. No humans who don't already know about this life."
Emiliano hesitated, his jaw clenching.
Cristiano smirked from the doorway. "I'll drive you."
"No, you won't," Mia said, rolling her eyes.
"Yes, I will," Cristiano said calmly, already turning to leave. "Be ready in twenty minutes."
Fia gave a broken laugh as she wiped her face, still shaken but grateful for Mia’s stubbornness.
Her headache worsened as she stood, her legs shaking. She thought it was just the aftermath of sparring, the overload of adrenaline.
But then—
a crushing weight slammed into her chest, dropping her to her knees like a puppet with its strings cut.
"Fia?" Mia’s voice was sharp with panic.
"Fia, what’s happening?" Emiliano crouched beside her, his hands fluttering helplessly around her as he tried to figure out what was wrong.
And then—
The heavy oak doors of the manor burst open.
A procession of Lycans flooded in—
a wall of cloaked, hulking figures with nonchalant face and predatory smiles.
At their center, a bound Viktor.
His dark eyes locked onto Fia like a predator sighting wounded prey, giving her an evil and possessive smile.
And Fia—
To everyone’s horror—
smiled back.
But it wasn’t her smile.
It was hollow. Mechanical. Forced. Her eyes didn't glow from happiness like when she smiled at Emiliano...
Emiliano’s beast slammed against the inside of his ribs, roaring in fury.
He surged to his feet, only Luca's hand on his shoulder keeping him from lunging.
"Sire bond," Luca said grimly under his breath. "She’s still tied to him."
One of the cloaked figures strayed away from the group and headed in their direction, the procession stopping momentarily for the cloaked figure. Emiliano’s fists clenched so hard his knuckles cracked.
"Stay with her," he whispered to Mia as he strode forward, intercepting one of the council members—a towering man with silver-streaked hair and a scar carved across his jawline.
It was Councilor Grigori, one of the oldest and most feared Lycans still living. His dark eyes were sharp as knives as he approached Emiliano with the slow, heavy tread of a man bearing bad news.
He didn’t bother with a greeting.
He cut straight to the bone.
"Emiliano Bianchi," Grigori said, his voice grave. "You and your mate are hereby ordered to attend the tribunal."
Emiliano’s jaw locked.
"Tribunal," he repeated flatly, his voice low. "For what crimes, exactly?"
Grigori's mouth twisted, not quite a smile.
"Not for your crimes, not that I believe you had any crimes to be guilty of," he said. "For Viktor’s."
A heavy pause. "And his family's."
Emiliano’s blood turned to ice.
He glanced over Grigori’s shoulder at Viktor, who was still standing in the center of the room, surrounded by the Council leaders and territory Alphas, bound and gagged like the criminal he was.
Grigori lowered his voice even further.
"The Council has reason to believe that Viktor engaged in illegal sire-bond practices," he said. "Without the consent of the bonded."
His eyes flicked pointedly toward Fia, who was still kneeling, still struggling under the invisible weight of Viktor’s influence.
"She is not his bonded," Emiliano growled out angrily. "She is mine!"
Grigori, unfazed by Emiliano's angry outburst, raised his eyebrows in a shocked manner. "Viktor mentioned nothing of the human being your mate."
"I didn't think he would," Emiliano said sarcastically.
"Do you have anyone who can attest to you both accepting the bond?"
"She is my true-mate."
Audible gasps could be heard throughout the room.
"There will be witnesses called," Grigori said gravely. "Evidence presented."
Another pause. "Your mate will be expected to testify."
Emiliano felt something cold and brutal uncoil in his chest.
They wanted Fia.
They wanted to put her in front of all of them—in pain, confused, barely able to stand under the bond—and have her recount her trauma like a damn spectacle.
"She’s barely stabilized in front of him," Emiliano said through gritted teeth. "You expect her to survive a public trial?"
Grigori’s eyes didn’t waver.
"We expect justice to be served," he said simply. "The tribunal convenes tomorrow morning."
He stepped back, giving a slight bow of his head that didn’t feel like respect—it felt like a warning.
Then he turned and disappeared into the sea of Lycans, leaving Emiliano standing alone with the weight of a kingdom collapsing on his shoulders.
He felt Mia’s hand on his back, steadying him.
Fia was still on her knees, breathing shallowly, her eyes glassy.
"Not for long," Emiliano hissed, shaking with the effort of restraint.
"I didn't know the Council and other territories were meeting here about Viktor."
Luca caught his eye and, wordlessly, mouthed:
Your brother.
Understanding hit Emiliano like a physical blow.
This wasn’t just about Viktor, otherwise this trial could've been held anywhere.
This was about politics.
Power.
His brother—still mateless, still desperate—
was trying to have Emiliano disqualified from the seat of leadership over the territory.
Using Fia against him.
Using her pain against him.
The council was here.
The territories were meeting.
And everything Emiliano had fought for was hanging by a thread.
All because of one bond.
One girl.
One decision.
And God help anyone who thought they could take her away from him.
Not while he still breathed.