Chapter 9: The Verdict

At the first row where the Grandville pack was seated, Edward Jones sat elegantly. He was dressed in a black, luxurious tailored suit. His eyes were deep, and on Lucille, who made no attempt to scan that part of the courtroom.

Without warning, a sharp trumpet blast pierced the air. It echoed off the walls, making hearts race and heads lower. It wasn’t just sound; it was a signal, a declaration, that the Tribunal council had arrived.

Every pack member froze, eyes locked on the tall double doors by the left.

The doors slid open, revealing seven figures dressed in tailored black suits and long, ceremonial coats lined with silver threading. Each one of them exuded cold, inhuman composure. Their presence alone demanded submission.

The moment the tribunal council members walked in, everyone rose. The commoners bowed their heads right away. Some dropped to one knee. Others lowered their eyes, too afraid to meet the gaze of such power. Mothers pulled their children close. A few people whispered prayers under their breath.

Their footsteps were slow, heavy, and strong, each one like a warning. A reminder that they were not equals. They were above everyone.

On their collars were silver wolf emblem, and In the middle was one, taller than the rest, with a glowing staff that exuded power.

Lucille's, heart began to pound thunderously. Her fingers trembled at her sides, and her wolf stirred inside her, uneasy.

The council members were there to seal her fate, and it made her veins throb badly. They would never be merciful.

Across the room, Edward straightened his back, wearing a proud smirk, as if he’d been waiting for this moment to show off.

In a straight line, the council members ascended the small stairs and walked into the judgement throne. Six took their seats in the smaller thrones while the one who held the staff sat on the large throne.

The moment the council members were all seated, every other person in the courtroom sat down.

The head of the council, the one who held the staff, Lord Arthur, stood. His voice boomed through the courtroom.

"With the authority bestowed on me, I proceed." His icy, fiery eyes scanned the people below him, then landed on Lucille, who was standing in the accused platform.

"Lucille Clinton. Born of common blood. Once a fated mate , to Edward Jones, son of the Grand Lord Councilor, Williams Jones." His stern eyes fixed on Lucille sending shudders down her spine.

"You dared to reject your fated mate unlawfully, an act considered a disgrace and rebellion.” he continued in fierce tone.

Lucille's gaze was fixed on Lord Arthur, her face twisted with the bitterness rising inside her.

"I haven't broken any laws, my Lord," she said, her voice echoing through the courtroom, sending a wave of shock through the room.

All eyes turned to her. How dare she speak to Lord Arthur like that? Edward's gaze burned with fury, a sneer curling on his lips. She would regret this.

Her eyes quickly shifted to Edward, fierce and filled with contempt. "I will reject you, Edward Jones, again and again!" she spat, and whispers buzzed through the room.

Edward paused, his mind reeling. Was she insane? Didn't she fear the council?

The council members' faces darkened. How dare a lowly omega speak out while the head of the council was speaking?

"Though you never laid a hand on me, the moon itself has witnessed the suffering you've caused me. I pray the goddess smites you, Edward Jones, a hundred times over!" Lucille's voice roared with uncontained fury.

She already knew the punishment would be harsh, so she let her anger spill out, ready to face whatever came.

Edward shuddered, slowly breaking his gaze from her, blinking in disbelief. The whispers in the courtroom died away, and all eyes remained fixed on Lucille, stunned.

The commoners, who had been seated in despair, suddenly felt a sense of lightness. Louis wore a faint smile. Even in the darkest moment, his sister stood strong and gave that fool Edward a piece of her mind.

Lord Arthur whose face had become very ugly, ignored her, lifted a bounded document, pre-written and prepared.

"You have spent two weeks in isolation and your judgement has been decided."

He opened tbe document, flipped to a certain page. His eyes scanned the page thoroughly, then moved to Lucille.

“Your sentence is hereby decreed. Five years under silver suppression injection, to restrain your wolf and ensure obedience."

A cruel silence settled over the courtroom, the moment the sentence was read aloud. The commoners sat still, their eyes lowered, jaws clenched, yet not a single voice dared rise. 

They had come in hope of fairness, but as the verdict echoed through the chamber, they bowed their heads in deep defeat.

Lucille's breath caught in her throat. Five years. Five years bound by a magical contract, her wolf suppressed by silver laced through her very blood. For five years, she would be more a human than werewolf, unable to defend herself or enjoy the privileges from the full moon.

Her knees trembled, but she forced herself upright. No one would see her break, not them, not Edward. Her fingers curled into her dress, nails digging deep into her palms as her heart was shredded into bits by the punishments.

She refused to cry. But inside, her wolf howled, clawing at the cage of her chest.

Edward’s lips twitched in satisfaction, but he masked it with an indifference expression. He gave no dramatic reaction, just a slow blink, a slight tilt of his head, as if the sentence was expected. As if justice had finally realigned with his favor.

Lord Arthur continued. "Seven seals from the seven members of the tribunal council, before all present will endorse the judgement." His voice echoed through the hall.

He slowly sank into the throne. The Council clerk stepped forward, took the document, opened it, and laid it on the table.

Lord Arthur carefully pressed the signet ring on his finger into the paper. The clerk then passed the document to the next council member, who did the same, and the process continued. One by one, the council members added their seals, each endorsement tightening the noose around her.

When the document finally reached the seventh and last council member, Lucille’s heart raced. Though she knew there was no hope, seeing each council member seal her fate with their signets ignited a cold, sharp fear she could barely control.

She hadn’t done anything wrong. All she had done was reject a mate who had mistreated her in countless ways. Her eyes blurred with tears, but she held them back. She wouldn’t let them fall, not here, not now.

What she needed was someone to hold her, to offer comfort and a promise that this pain would eventually fade. But she was alone on the accused platform. Her family was in the room, but they felt miles away, unable to reach her.

Her gaze drifted to the back of the room, where her pack sat, their faces plastered with despair. Her eyes locked with Louis’, and he gave her a silent, supportive nod, a small, quiet reminder that, even in this moment, she wasn’t entirely alone.

"I refuse to seal this judgment!" A deep, commanding voice echoed through the room, causing every gaze to snap toward the judgment throne.