The full moon brought with it a morning so bitter it felt like punishment. I was up before the first hint of light, my body tense with the knowledge my mind didn't want to face: this could be my last day as Luna, the end of any safety I'd ever had.
Millie came in, a bundle of nerves and stubbornness—offering me a drab gray dress, the sort of thing you'd wear if you wanted to look harmless and meek. Victim's attire, through and through.
"No, not that," I said, my voice rough.
She hesitated. "Are you sure, my lady?"
"If they're going to come for me, they'll do it no matter what I wear." I went to the wardrobe myself, brushing past the finery until my hand closed on something with weight. "But I won't help them by looking like prey."
I pulled out a dress as dark as midnight, nearly black, with no frills or flourishes, just simple, stark, and quietly commanding.
Millie's voice shook. "You're certain?"
I nodded, catching her gaze in the reflection. "They're waiting for me to collapse, to beg or admit to things I never did. I won't give them the pleasure." I laid a hand on my belly, feeling the fragile hope growing there. "Not today."
She finished braiding my hair, her fingers sure and gentle, then slipped a vial into my hand. "Valerian. For the sickness. Safe for the little one."
Emotion caught in my throat at her gesture. I squeezed her hand, grateful for her kindness. "Thank you."
"Araya—if this turns ugly—"
"It will," I said, tucking away the vial. "This isn't about justice. They just want an excuse."
"Why not run?"
I stared at the pale scar on my palm, reminder of a wedding day that had hurt from the start. "Running means letting them write my story. I won't have my child think their mother was a coward. I'll stand my ground, say my truth. If they toss me aside, at least I fought."
The bells rang, deep and ominous. Millie clutched my hand. "Selene's watching."
I could only hope so.
The way to the trial grounds felt like walking to my grave. Every corridor, once familiar, felt like a gauntlet. Wolves lined the walls, eyes filled with accusation or worse—anticipation.
No one spoke, but their faces said enough.
She's guilty. She deserves this.
The mate bond hummed with Jasper's cold certainty, his satisfaction palpable.
I kept my head up, refusing to show fear.
The ceremonial courtyard yawned ahead, sunlight painting the stones harshly. Beyond, the crowd was restless, packed in tight, every pair of eyes hungry for drama.
The guards let me pass. I paused, letting the noise and light sink in, feeling the enormity of what I was about to face.
The courtyard, usually a place of joy, had been turned into an arena. Every wolf in Drevyn, and some from beyond, had come for the spectacle.
On the dais, the council waited, Elder Thorne in the middle, Jasper above them all, armored and unyielding. His eyes were cold steel. On his left, Serenya sat in white, her smile sharp enough to draw blood.
I heard the whispers as I entered.
"She's here."
"Wearing black, already mourning."
"She's doomed."
My hands shook, but I forced them steady, making myself walk forward.
The crowd pressed close, faces eager for the worst. I climbed the steps, heart pounding, stomach churning.
Elder Thorne's voice rang out.
"Araya Varrow, you stand accused of breaking your bond, of infidelity, and of trying to pass another man's child as the Alpha's heir."
Each accusation landed heavy.
"How do you answer?"
I squared my shoulders and said, "Not guilty."
The courtyard erupted. Elder Thorne called for quiet.
Jasper leaned forward. "You deny the charges?"
"I do. I've never betrayed you. The child is yours, blessed by Selene."
Shouts of "Liar!" rose from the crowd.
Jasper's hand cut through the chaos. Silence returned.
"We have witnesses," he said. "They'll testify."
"Let them," I replied. "Let them stand in the light and speak."
He seemed surprised I hadn't broken yet.
He gestured to Thorne, who called the first witness, a young she-wolf with a rehearsed story about seeing me in the gardens with a man.
A lie, but she told it well.
"You're sure it was her?" Thorne asked.
She nodded, eyes bright with triumph.
I wanted to scream. Two weeks ago, I hadn't left my rooms. But who would take my word over theirs?
"I wasn't there," I said. "I was alone in my chambers—"
"Alone?" Jasper pounced. "No one to back you up?"
Trap set, trap sprung.
He called more witnesses; each repeated the same lies.
The crowd was eating it up.
Jasper stood, his presence filling the space. He came to me, voice low and final.
"The evidence is overwhelming. Witnesses, timing, your own lack of an alibi. Plead for mercy. It's all that's left."
He expected me to collapse.
Instead, I raised my voice. "I have nothing to confess. The child is yours, Jasper. You can try to cast me out, but it won't change the truth."
He grabbed my chin, eyes blazing. "Then prove it. Or be damned."
There was nothing left to say. I met his gaze, felt the baby stir, and found a core of steel I didn't know I had.
"I will not confess to a lie. If you want me gone, do it yourself. Stop pretending this is justice."
He stared at me, thrown off, then stepped back.
"Fine." His voice was cold, final. "Araya Varrow, you're tainted. No longer Luna. No longer of Drevyn."
The crowd howled their approval.
I stood tall, hands on my belly, as everything I'd built was torn away and Serenya basked in her victory.
But I knew in my bones, this wasn't the end. Not by a long shot.