Rain's POV
The Trial Begins
Dan led me to the center of the ceremonial grounds, his grip firm on my arm—not cruel, but commanding, as if reminding me to stay in line. The torches circled around us like flaming eyes, dancing in the wind, throwing shadows over the hundreds of faces staring at me like I was something less than human.
My heart hammered in my chest, loud enough I was sure someone could hear it.
Dan… I'm scared. You'll save me, right? Please tell me you'll save me…
He didn't look at me, but I felt his fingers squeeze my arm ever so slightly. It was small, barely a gesture—but to me, it felt like a promise.
Just trust me, he'd told me earlier. And no matter what they ask—don't say a word.
I swallowed the rising bile in my throat and nodded.
Dan positioned me in front of the podium like I was a display piece, then stepped back. The weight of the crowd's gaze sank its claws into my skin. I felt naked. Vulnerable. Like prey in a den of predators. I could see it in their faces—rage, suspicion, even something worse.
Satisfaction.
As if they'd already found me guilty and were just waiting for the show to start.
Then a figure broke through the edge of the crowd—and the ground under me might as well have cracked open.
Jack the Terrible.
I instinctively took half a step back. He was even more monstrous than I remembered—towering, sculpted like stone, eyes colder than the wind that blew through these woods. There was no soul in that man. Only violence.
He didn't waste time.
"Rain, the servant girl—did you attempt to kill the Alpha and end up poisoning his concubine instead?"
What?! My chest squeezed tight. No. Goddess, no! I'd never do that! I'm not a killer—I've never even killed a fly!
But I said nothing. My tongue stayed pressed against the roof of my mouth so hard it ached. Because Dan told me to.
Jack took another step closer, and I swear his shadow swallowed mine whole.
"Did you admit to putting poison in the Alpha's meal—the very food his concubine ended up eating?"
My mouth opened just slightly, but I caught myself. Blood filled my mouth where I'd bitten my tongue. I didn't do it. I swear on everything—I didn't do it!
My eyes darted to Dan. You see me, don't you? I'm doing what you said. I'm trusting you.
He met my gaze—calm, unreadable. But his eyes… they didn't flinch. They didn't scream in panic or rage or desperation.
They whispered:
Trust me. I won't let you fall.
Then Jack turned to Batista.
"My Alpha, she is not denying any of the charges. She is definitely guilty."
My breath caught in my throat.
What?! No! That's not why I'm quiet, you dumb brute! I'm not guilty—I'm being loyal!
My fists clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms so deep I nearly pierced skin. You twisted my silence into guilt? How dare you?! I trusted him!
But before I could explode, Batista's voice cut cleanly through the noise.
"Jack. Do you have any evidence against her?" His voice was cool, his expression unreadable. "Because right now, all you have are assumptions. Concluding she tried to kill me just because she was the one who served the food is not enough."
He was defending me?
No. He just didn't want things to look sloppy. He was the Alpha. He had to appear "fair." I didn't trust that man—not with the way he always looked at me like I was something broken he wanted to fix.
Then Dan stepped forward, voice loud, calm, steady.
"Alpha Batista," he said. "I have something to say."
Relief shot through me so fast I nearly collapsed.
Finally. Finally, this is it. Dan is going to end this. He's going to tell them the truth—tell them I'm not a killer. He's going to save me, like he promised.
"There is actually a witness to the crime."
My breath caught. Froze. Mid-inhale. Like the air itself had turned to ice in my lungs.
A witness?
I didn't move. I didn't blink. I didn't understand.
The words barely landed before a wave of whispers burst around me like a tidal wave crashing against the rocks. Dozens of voices, blurred together, buzzing in my ears like a swarm of wasps. I couldn't tell what they were saying—I couldn't hear anything past the thundering of my own heartbeat.
No.
No, no, no, no—Dan, what are you doing?
My eyes snapped to him—my anchor, my last lifeline. I searched his face like it held a secret I had missed. Like this was a game of chess and he'd just made a genius move I couldn't comprehend. He had to be bluffing. Buying time. Setting a trap for the real murderer.
He had to be.
But Dan... he didn't look at me.
He didn't even glance at me.
He just stood there—stoic, unreadable. Cold. A stranger in his own skin.
Alpha Batista leaned forward from his gilded seat, interested now. "A witness?" he echoed. "Then call them forward so we can hear what they have to say."
Dan's voice, calm and clear, answered without hesitation.
"I call on Victoria Debron."
My stomach twisted so violently I thought I might vomit.
Victoria?
The ground under my feet felt suddenly unstable, like it was tilting away from me and I was sliding toward the edge of something dark and endless. The name rang in my ears like a death sentence.
Victoria?
My best friend. My only friend. The girl who braided my hair behind the kitchens, who hugged me when I cried. Who promised, with tears in her own eyes, that she'd never let me fall alone.
Victoria?
I turned my head slowly, like my body no longer belonged to me. My neck ached with the weight of what I was about to see.
She was walking through the crowd, her head high, her steps sure. Torchlight flickered against her face, casting shadows that made her look older, sharper. Unfamiliar.
Please. Please just look at me.
She didn't.
She didn't even blink in my direction.
That cold, steady expression on her face—it wasn't Victoria. It wasn't the girl who used to whisper jokes to me during temple lessons, or steal fruit from the market when I was too hungry to move.
Who was this girl?
Jack the Terrible stepped forward like he was the conductor of this sick orchestra. "Miss Victoria, tell us what happened."
Victoria's voice rang out smooth, practiced. I knew that voice. I'd heard it every day for years. But now… now it felt like a knife wrapped in silk.
"I was with Rain earlier this afternoon," she said. "She told me that the Alpha had requested extra food at his table."
Liar.
No, that's wrong. That's not what happened.
You told me that. You handed me the tray, Victoria! You said the Alpha had sent word, you said it was urgent!
I opened my mouth—but Dan moved. Just slightly. Just enough.
A barely-there shake of his head.
Don't speak.
My lips trembled with the truth, but I swallowed it. I bit it back so hard it burned my throat. My fists clenched at my sides until my nails broke the skin. Blood welled in my palm, and still, I said nothing.
"So what about it?" Batista asked. "Did you see her put any poison in the food?"
A pause. A heartbeat. Maybe… maybe she'd stop this. Maybe she'd catch herself and laugh and say it was all a mistake.
Victoria shook her head.
"No, actually. I didn't."
A breath escaped me—shaky, broken, but real.
Maybe it's not too late. Maybe—
"But," she added softly, "when she came out with the tray, she told me she wanted the Alpha dead."
The world stopped.
I didn't breathe.
"She said he was two-faced. That she hated him for killing her mother. She said she had a very powerful poison. One drop could kill him."
Gasps erupted all around me, but I couldn't hear them. All I heard was the sound of my heart tearing in half.
What are you doing, Victoria?
Why are you saying this?
"She showed it to me," she continued, and her voice didn't shake once. "Said it was hidden in her necklace."
I stumbled back, my hand flying to my neck, clutching the silver moon locket Dan had given me—the one he ask me not to take off.
I turned to Dan, desperate for the comfort of his gaze, for some flicker of the man who had promised me the world, who had once whispered to me under the moonlight that nothing—nothing—could break us.
But as soon as my eyes met his, he quickly adverted his gaze, his expression distant, unreadable.
Jack was already there.
His hand shot out, rough and cruel, and he ripped the locket from my skin.
"No—don't!" I cried, lunging forward, but it was too late. The chain snapped. The pendant fell into his palm like evidence in a trial already decided.
Victoria stepped forward. Took it from him.
She held it like it belonged to her.
She twisted the back—and a small compartment clicked open.
A white powder spilled out.
I froze.
My blood turned to ice.
"What is that?" someone hissed.
The pack doctor stepped up, collected the powder with shaking hands, and examined it beneath the torchlight. Every second felt like an eternity.
Then, finally, he looked up.
"This… this is the same poison that killed the concubine."
The words hit like a punch to the chest.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. My knees buckled, and I barely caught myself before collapsing to the ground.
The whispers turned to shouts.
"She tried to kill the Alpha!"
"She's a murderer!"
"Killer! Witch!"
I stared at Victoria. At Dan. At the crowd of faces twisting with hatred and horror.
And I broke.
"Dan!" I cried out, my voice raw and desperate and ugly. "Please—tell them! Tell them the truth! You know I didn't do this! You know—you promised me!"
He didn't answer.
He didn't turn around.
He stood still.
He stood silent.
And in that moment… I knew.
He was never going to save me.
He was the one burying me.
I stood there, exposed, broken, betrayed by the two people I loved most in this world.
And as the crowd demanded my execution and the guards closed in, all I could think was—
How foolish of me...
To believe I was ever safe.