POV: Soraya
They drag me through the marble halls like a criminal.
My arms burn where hands grip too tightly. Shouts echo behind me—“traitor,” “witch,” “murderer.” Every insult hits like a thrown stone. I can barely see through the blur of tears, but I catch flashes of faces: guards I once smiled at, healers who tended my wounds, wolves who whispered my name in gossip. All of them glare now, as if I’ve spilled poison in their water.
“I didn’t push her!” I shout, voice cracking. “She jumped! You have to believe me!”
No one answers.
They drag me into the council chamber. Elders rise from their seats, gray-furred and cold-eyed. Azhara lies on a litter near the hearth, arm bandaged, face pale, voice trembling with practiced fragility. She groans softly, enough to stir pity. Every wolf in the room bristles.
Darric, the eldest, glares down at me. “Soraya Zehrael, accused of assaulting the betrothed of our Alpha. What defense do you offer?”
“My truth,” I whisper.
“Speak then.”
“She did this,” I say, words tumbling fast. “She provoked me. She taunted me about Raevan. Then she threw herself down the stairs. Ask Vienne—she saw everything!”
Vienne steps forward, fists clenched. “She’s telling the truth!”
But the crowd only murmurs louder. Someone hisses, “Loyal handmaid protecting her pet.” The accusation sticks.
Azhara moans softly, eyes fluttering open. “Please… don’t blame her,” she whispers. “It was an accident.” Her voice shakes with false nobility. “I tripped. I’m sure she didn’t mean to hurt me.”
The crowd gasps—the perfect performance. Sympathy floods the hall. Wolves bow their heads, murmuring prayers for her recovery. But beneath the act, her gaze flicks toward me, sharp as a dagger.
My stomach twists. She’s winning.
“Enough,” Elder Darric says. “Until we determine truth, the girl will be confined.”
“No!” Vienne shouts. “She’s done nothing wrong!”
Guards move to seize me again, but before they can, a low growl rips through the hall.
Kaide.
He steps between me and the guards, eyes burning. “Touch her, and you’ll lose your hands.”
“Beta,” one elder warns, “you defy council order.”
“I defy foolishness,” Kaide snaps. “She’s been lied about. Azhara is playing you all like a drum.”
“Careful,” Darric growls. “You speak against the future Luna.”
Kaide smiles without humor. “She may be future Luna, but that doesn’t make her truthful.”
The room erupts in angry voices. I stand frozen, heart pounding. Azhara whimpers again, drawing attention back to herself. Her hand rests dramatically against her stomach.
“She’s lying,” I plead. “Please—”
No one hears me over the noise. Kaide grabs my arm and pulls me toward the door.
“What are you doing?” I ask in shock.
“Saving you from them,” he grits out. He pushes through the crowd, snarling at anyone who tries to block his path. Vienne follows, shoving guards aside. The elders shout orders behind us, but Kaide doesn’t slow.
We burst into the corridor. The air outside the chamber feels thinner, cleaner, but my lungs still refuse to work.
“They’ll say this proves I’m guilty,” I whisper.
“They already decided that,” Kaide says grimly. “Let’s at least keep you alive long enough for Raevan to hear.”
“Will he believe me?” I ask quietly.
Kaide’s jaw tightens. “He’d better.”
We turn a corner. Voices echo behind us—search parties forming. Kaide shoves open a side door and pushes me into a storeroom filled with grain sacks and lanterns.
“Stay here,” he orders. “I’ll get Raevan.”
“Kaide—”
He meets my eyes. “Don’t break, Soraya. They want you afraid. Don’t give them that.”
Then he’s gone.
I sink to the floor between barrels, shaking, breath catching in my throat. Somewhere above us, bells ring to signal a trial in preparation.
I press my hands over my ears and cry quietly.
For once, not because I’m weak—
But because I’m so tired of fighting to prove I exist.