Chapter 8

Clara’s POV

When they drag me into the courtroom the next morning, I’m barely able to stand.

Bruises and gashes stretch across my body, sending shockwaves of agony through me with even the slightest movements. The chains around my wrists and ankles dig into my skin. My breathing is laboured, a new wheeze rattling through my lungs, and my eyes feel heavy and swollen from all the tears I've shed.

They tried to torture me. They tried to get me to confess.

I didn’t.

But I’m barely alive now because of it.

As I’m ushered into the room and forced to the stand, jeers and hateful growls cast my way. I’m dodging hostile glares at every turn. People are pointing and whispering to themselves, spreading rumours no doubt, trying to figure out exactly what kind of monster I am.

Not that it matters.

None of it matters anymore.

I’m doomed.

As the shouting in the courtroom rises to a crescendo, Alpha Damien’s strong, powerful voice suddenly cuts through the room, bringing about an abrupt burst of silence.

“Enough!” He growls.

And just like that, the room goes quiet.

He looks out over the crowd, brow furrowed. “Today we will be judging the fate of Omega Clara Brooks, who has been charged with the attempted murder of Elder Claude Mark. Clara, how do you plead?”

“Innocent!” I cry out frantically, fingers digging into the chipped wood of the defendant’s stand. “Innocent, please, I didn’t do it, that wasn’t me–”

“Silence!” Alpha Damien growls at me.

I freeze up, the coldness and disgust in his voice hitting me like a slap to the face.

Damien turns away from me and gestures to where Rachel is sitting at the witness’s table. “I’d like to call Rachel Moran, daughter of Beta Felix Moran, to deliver her witness’s statement.”

Rachel stands up, shooting me a dark, cunning smile before turning her focus to Damien.

A shiver runs down my spine.

She’s going to try and tear apart everything I ever could’ve had.

“What occurred between Clara and Elder Claude?” Alpha Damien asks, his powerful voice filling the courtroom easily.

Rachel sniffles, face contorting into a perfect mimicry of a scared, traumatized girl. “I saw Clara give him the wine,” she begins. “As soon as Elder Claude finished drinking it, he collapsed to the floor. Then Clara approached him to cut his wrist with a dagger!”

“That’s not true!” I burst out before I can stop myself. “You didn’t see anything, Rachel! And I never gave him any poisoned wine, I found him like that!”

“You cut his wrist open!” Rachel shouts at me, eyes flashing bloody murder. “You were covered in his blood!”

“I was trying to get the poison out!” I argue desperately, looking around the courtroom for any trace of sympathy.

I don’t see any, though.

“That’s ridiculous!” Rachel sputters. “You were trying to kill him, and your only regret is that you never got to finish the job! He opposed your union with Alpha Damien, so you tried to punish him for it. It makes perfect sense!”

“I—wait!” My heart jolts. “Elder Claude is… alive?”

“Yes,” Rachel says, a bitter edge to her voice. “Disappointed?”

I look up at Damien, gaze hopeful. “Just–just ask him!” I plead. “Ask him what happened, and he’ll tell you himself. He told me to cut open his wrist in the first place!”

The courtroom erupts into chaos, a cacophony of angry shouts drowning out my voice. I shudder and squeeze my eyes shut as the furious voices wash over me, an entire room of my fellow pack members screaming for my execution, for the most vile things to happen to me.

Whatever comes next is going to be so much worse.

I open my eyes just in time to see Layla sobbing sorrowfully, unable to meet my gaze. Damien raises his hand again, bringing the courtroom back to order.

“Do you have anything else to say in your defense, Clara?” He asks gruffly.

I wipe the tears from my eyes. “Just let me talk to Elder Claude, please, he’ll be able to prove my innocence–”

“No. You’re never going to see him again,” Damien says coldly, rejecting my plea in an instant.

I slump forward in defeat, sobbing against the stand as Alpha Damien gives his final verdict.

“Clara Brooks, you are hereby found guilty of the attempted murder of Elder Claude,” Damien declares. His voice is a blade of ice, cutting through the heavy silence of the hall. “As punishment for your crimes against the Moonstone pack, you are sentenced to exile. May the Moon Goddess have mercy on your soul, for the pack will not.”

Alpha Damien pauses, and for just a moment, sadness flickers in his eyes.

It’s gone in an instant, though.

“Guards,” he commands coldly. “Escort the traitor out. Get her out of my sight!”

“No!” I scream, whipping back and forth frantically as strong hands pull at my chains once more. “No, no, you can’t–you have to believe me–”

A gag slipped over my mouth, forcing the words back down my throat. As I’m hauled out of the courtroom by a pair of guards, Marigold begins to wail in my mind, a desperate, pained, mournful sound. Every part of my body is stuck in agony. I’m breathing far too quickly.

I have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen to me past the pack borders.

I’m hauled out of the palace and into the dense coniferous woods that surround the Moonstone palace, feet dragging along the ground as I’m carried limp and boneless as a rag doll. But much to my surprise, rather than my being abandoned past the border, we turn and slip into a smaller, isolated clearing.

“What… what is this?” I ask nervously as the guards release my chains and pull the gag from my mouth.

“Alpha Damien’s last order,” one of them replies with a sick smile.

“He doesn’t want you alive, and certainly doesn’t want to risk a low-blood like you carrying his heir,” the other adds. “Exile, as he put it, was far too merciful.”

I freeze, the cold realization sinking into my bones. “He… he sent you to kill me,” I whisper, the betrayal cutting deeper than any blade.

“Precisely,” the first guard grins, unsheathing a silver dagger.

A spark of desperate rage flares in my chest. “You can’t do this!” I cry, hot tears of fury and fear streaming down my face. “I’m innocent! I didn’t do it!”

“Alpha Damien thinks otherwise,” the second guard smirks, his eyes traveling over me with a predatory hunger that makes my skin crawl.

“But we’re willing to spare your life,” the first guard murmurs, his voice a sickening crawl.

The second one chuckles, a visceral sound that makes me nauseous. “If you serve us well, that is.”

“Please…” I beg, scrambling backward in a panic.

A filthy sneer passes between them, and then they lunge at me.