Trial Day

ALYRA

Today was supposed to be my end.

I’d been counting the moons. Ten full moons since the night my world cracked open and swallowed me whole. Ten moons since the dungeon became my cage, since the people who once called me daughter and sister started calling me murderer. Ten moons of chains biting into my wrists, of damp stone pressing on my skin, of guards spitting at me like I was filth.

Today, finally, it was supposed to end.

“Out.”

The bark of the dungeon guard tore through the silence. His voice always sounded like gravel dragged across stone. The iron keys at his hip rattled as he stomped to the bars and slammed the door open. His eyes burned with the same hatred I’d seen every day for months.

I smiled at him.

He blinked like I’d spat in his face. “You’re insane.”

Maybe I was. Who else smiles on the day of their trial? Who grins when the whole pack believes she slaughtered her own sister?

The iron gate screeched as he yanked me out of my cell. The sound knifed down my spine. Light hit me hard after months in the dark. It stabbed my eyes until they watered, but I tilted my head back and let it burn my face. It felt like freedom even if it wasn’t.

That only made him hate me more. Good.

My whole body was a map of bruises. Purple shadows on my arms, lash marks on my back, silver cuffs gnawing at my ankles. I’d been beaten and starved until my bones jutted like knives under my skin, with wolfsbane forced down my throat. Yet inside me, Meira, my wolf, moved. For five full moons she had been silent, hiding while my weak body took the punishment. Now she stirred.

‘What if he doesn’t keep his promise?’ She whispered, her voice trembling in my mind.

‘He will,’ I told her. He swore it. Less than twenty-four hours and this will be over.’

She didn’t answer, but I felt her anxiety twist with mine.

The guard shoved me forward. Each step jarred my ribs and ankles. Pain flared with every movement, but I kept my chin high.

Minutes crawled until we reached the council courtyard. The air outside smelled of pine and smoke. Hundreds of eyes turned on me. Judging and Condemning.

I saw them all.

The elders in their dark robes, faces carved from stone. My father, stiff and cold. My stepmother, lips curled in a small, satisfied smile, was happy the whole pack now hated me. Alessia, her daughter, sat close to the Alpha’s throne with her smug little smirk, like she’d already won.

And then there was him.

Liam. My mate. My Alpha.

It was the first time I’d seen him in the Alpha’s seat. When they dragged me away, he was still training, not yet a ruler. Now he sat like he’d been born to it, his aura heavy as thunderclouds, his shoulders broader, his jaw set in steel.

My chest clenched at the sight of him.

The others looked at me with hatred and bloodlust. They wanted me dead. But Liam’s face… I couldn’t read it. Not hatred, not pity.

The councilwoman’s voice sliced through the noise. “Bring the accused forward.”

The guard shoved me harder until I dropped to my knees.

“Alyra Stevens,” she announced, unrolling my charges like a blade. “You are accused of the gravest offense in Crescent Moon Pack: the murder of your own sister.”

Hearing it out loud was worse than the whispers through the dungeon walls. My stomach turned to ice.

“The punishment,” she continued coldly, “is death by pyre—”

“No! Hang her!” Someone screamed.

“Banish her!” another voice shouted.

“Send her to the Red Mountain!”

The courtyard erupted, voices clashing like weapons.

“Silence!” Elder Carlos boomed, rising to his feet. The noise died instantly.

Elder Carlos was my father’s closest friend. The man who used to call me little flame when I was small, who snuck me extra bread when my stepmother starved me, who let me watch council meetings from the shadows because he said I was clever enough to understand.

His eyes had once been warm, but now his face was carved with disappointment, and it cut me deeper than the guard’s whips.

He cleared his throat. “We, the elders of Crescent Moon, have deliberated.” His voice was rough and heavy. “We are offering the accused three options.”

My pulse spiked.

“Death by hanging,” he said first. “Exile—banishment, permanent and final.” He paused, eyes flickering over me with something like pity. “Or… she may be sent to the Red Mountain.”

The courtyard stilled. Even the air seemed to recoil.

Death by hanging was agony. The wolfsbane rope burned through flesh and spirit, dragging the soul from the body over days. Yet at least it offered rest at the end.

Banishment was a slower death—wandering alone, stripped of rank and identity, starting anew in hostile territory.

But the Red Mountain…

Even as a pup, the name had been a nightmare whispered in the dark. The Red Mountain lay in the territory of Alpha Viktor, the Lycan with the heart of a dragon. He was older than most alphas, crueler than any tale could capture. Warriors and criminals alike had been sent to his domain as tribute or punishment. None had returned. Not even their bones. The stories of how they died were too gruesome to repeat.

Still, I didn’t flinch.

Because Liam had promised. He knew the truth.

He had vowed, with our bond burning between us, that when the trial came, he would protect me.

I lifted my chin, searching his eyes.

“Alpha,” Carlos said, turning to him. “The final choice rests with you.”

Silence fell, heavier than chains.

Liam’s eyes locked on mine. For a heartbeat, I swore I saw it—regret, pain, the echo of love. My wolf surged, hope flaring bright and desperate.

Then he spoke.

“Send her to the Red Mountain.”

The words cut like an executioner’s blade.

Gasps rippled through the courtyard. My vision blurred, the ground tilting beneath me. Breath strangled in my throat.

Alessia’s smile split wider, sharp as a dagger.

This wasn’t what he promised.

He knew the truth.

Because Liam… was the murderer. Not me.