Chapter 9
I turned to my father.
His face was stone — but I knew him well enough to see the micro-fracture of control. The slight widening of his pupils. The almost imperceptible clenching of his jaw.
Serena saw it too. And she smiled like she'd just drawn blood.
"Oh, you didn't know?" She tilted her head, addressing me with theatrical sympathy. "Your father never told you how your mother really died? How she didn't just 'get sick' like you were told?"
"SILENCE the defendant," the Councilwoman ordered.
But Serena kept screaming as warriors moved toward her: "ASK HIM WHY SHE WAS HIDING YOU! Ask him what she was running FROM—"
A warrior's hand clamped over her mouth. She was dragged backward, still thrashing.
The courtroom buzzed with whispers.
I stared at my father. "Dad."
"Not here," he said quietly. "Later. I promise."
"Dad—"
"Aria." His hand covered mine. "She's trying to derail the trial. To make this about anything other than her crimes. Don't let her."
He was right. I knew he was right.
But something had cracked open inside me.
I turned back to face the court, my expression steady even as my mind raced.
The Councilwoman restored order with a sharp command.
"The evidence will now be presented."
Security footage played on massive screens — every angle, every moment of that night. Three hundred attendees had been guests at an estate with state-of-the-art surveillance.
The courtroom watched as Damien poured me wolfsbane wine with a smile.
They watched as Serena crushed my phone under her heel.
They watched as I lay convulsing on the floor while guests laughed.
They watched the second injection. The snow. The ice water. My body going limp.
By the end, multiple Council members had looked away. Two were crying. One Alpha in the third row was openly snarling at Damien.
"The prosecution requests the maximum sentence for both defendants," the Councilwoman announced. "For Damien Ashford — fifteen years in silver containment. For Serena Vale — life imprisonment without the possibility of release."
Damien closed his eyes. A tear tracked down his face.
He didn't protest.
But Serena — Serena had one more card to play.
"WAIT!" she screamed through the warrior's grip. "I invoke the Ancient Right of Challenge! I demand trial by combat!"
The courtroom erupted.
Trial by combat. An archaic law — rarely invoked, never in modern courts — that allowed the accused to challenge their sentence through physical contest. If the challenger won, charges were reduced. If they lost, the original sentence stood.
The Councilwoman looked disturbed. "The Ancient Right hasn't been invoked in sixty years—"
"But it's still LAW," Serena's lawyer jumped in, clearly prepared for this moment. "My client has the legal right to challenge. The question is — who will the prosecution send as their champion?"
All eyes turned to my father.
He could send any of his warriors. Any one of his generals could crush Serena in seconds.
But I stood.
The courtroom went silent again.
"I'll fight her."
My father's head snapped toward me. "Absolutely not."
"Dad." I met his eyes. "She poisoned me. She humiliated me. She tried to kill me twice and then used my trauma against me in front of strangers. This is MY fight."
"You almost died two weeks ago—"
"And I survived. My wolf is awake. My bloodline is active." I stepped forward. "I'm not the helpless girl she left in the snow. And she needs to know that."
The courtroom was breathless, watching the Alpha King and his daughter face off.
My father searched my eyes for a long moment.
Then, slowly, pride overtook the worry.
"One condition," he said. "If she pulls anything — anything at all — I'm stepping in."
I nodded. "Deal."
Serena's smile widened across the courtroom.
She thought she had a chance.
She had no idea what Royal blood could do when it was fully awake.
His face was stone — but I knew him well enough to see the micro-fracture of control. The slight widening of his pupils. The almost imperceptible clenching of his jaw.
Serena saw it too. And she smiled like she'd just drawn blood.
"Oh, you didn't know?" She tilted her head, addressing me with theatrical sympathy. "Your father never told you how your mother really died? How she didn't just 'get sick' like you were told?"
"SILENCE the defendant," the Councilwoman ordered.
But Serena kept screaming as warriors moved toward her: "ASK HIM WHY SHE WAS HIDING YOU! Ask him what she was running FROM—"
A warrior's hand clamped over her mouth. She was dragged backward, still thrashing.
The courtroom buzzed with whispers.
I stared at my father. "Dad."
"Not here," he said quietly. "Later. I promise."
"Dad—"
"Aria." His hand covered mine. "She's trying to derail the trial. To make this about anything other than her crimes. Don't let her."
He was right. I knew he was right.
But something had cracked open inside me.
I turned back to face the court, my expression steady even as my mind raced.
The Councilwoman restored order with a sharp command.
"The evidence will now be presented."
Security footage played on massive screens — every angle, every moment of that night. Three hundred attendees had been guests at an estate with state-of-the-art surveillance.
The courtroom watched as Damien poured me wolfsbane wine with a smile.
They watched as Serena crushed my phone under her heel.
They watched as I lay convulsing on the floor while guests laughed.
They watched the second injection. The snow. The ice water. My body going limp.
By the end, multiple Council members had looked away. Two were crying. One Alpha in the third row was openly snarling at Damien.
"The prosecution requests the maximum sentence for both defendants," the Councilwoman announced. "For Damien Ashford — fifteen years in silver containment. For Serena Vale — life imprisonment without the possibility of release."
Damien closed his eyes. A tear tracked down his face.
He didn't protest.
But Serena — Serena had one more card to play.
"WAIT!" she screamed through the warrior's grip. "I invoke the Ancient Right of Challenge! I demand trial by combat!"
The courtroom erupted.
Trial by combat. An archaic law — rarely invoked, never in modern courts — that allowed the accused to challenge their sentence through physical contest. If the challenger won, charges were reduced. If they lost, the original sentence stood.
The Councilwoman looked disturbed. "The Ancient Right hasn't been invoked in sixty years—"
"But it's still LAW," Serena's lawyer jumped in, clearly prepared for this moment. "My client has the legal right to challenge. The question is — who will the prosecution send as their champion?"
All eyes turned to my father.
He could send any of his warriors. Any one of his generals could crush Serena in seconds.
But I stood.
The courtroom went silent again.
"I'll fight her."
My father's head snapped toward me. "Absolutely not."
"Dad." I met his eyes. "She poisoned me. She humiliated me. She tried to kill me twice and then used my trauma against me in front of strangers. This is MY fight."
"You almost died two weeks ago—"
"And I survived. My wolf is awake. My bloodline is active." I stepped forward. "I'm not the helpless girl she left in the snow. And she needs to know that."
The courtroom was breathless, watching the Alpha King and his daughter face off.
My father searched my eyes for a long moment.
Then, slowly, pride overtook the worry.
"One condition," he said. "If she pulls anything — anything at all — I'm stepping in."
I nodded. "Deal."
Serena's smile widened across the courtroom.
She thought she had a chance.
She had no idea what Royal blood could do when it was fully awake.