Chapter 10
1369words
The ancient stone structure had been forgotten by most, but I remembered it well. My grandmother had once told me stories about this place—how it had been used for forbidden rituals in the old days.
In my previous life, I had discovered this was where Cassandra had conducted her most dangerous magic.
Where she had first stolen pieces of Fenrir's essence.
Damon appeared beside me, silent as shadow. In his hands, he carried a leather satchel that would change everything.
"You found it," I said, though it wasn't a question.
"Exactly where you said it would be." His voice was grim. "Hidden beneath the altar stones. The smell of corrupted magic was overwhelming."
I took the satchel, feeling the weight of destiny in my hands.
Inside were the tools of Cassandra's trade. Bone needles carved with forbidden runes. Vials of blood, both human and wolf. And most damning of all—a lock of golden fur that could only have come from one source.
Fenrir.
"This will destroy her," Damon said quietly.
I nodded grimly. And finally show Ethan the truth.
We made our way back toward the Council chambers, where the investigation into the Recognition Ceremony was scheduled to resume.
But we weren't the only ones who had been busy.
As we approached the Great Hall, raised voices echoed from within. I recognized Ethan's tone immediately—defensive, angry, desperate.
"—not listening to reason! This investigation has gone on long enough. Cassandra is suffering under this constant suspicion!"
Elder Whitehawk's response was measured but firm.
"The runes do not lie, Alpha Ethan. The corruption was real. We must determine its source."
"Then look elsewhere!" Ethan's voice cracked with emotion. "Look at Sienna! She's the one with motive. She's always been jealous of what Cassandra and I have."
I paused at the entrance, Damon's hand steady on my shoulder.
"Ready?" he asked quietly.
I smiled, feeling the predator's satisfaction of a hunt about to conclude.
"I've been ready for this moment my entire life."
We entered the Great Hall to find the Council in session. Ethan stood in the center, his face flushed with anger and frustration. Cassandra sat in the witness chair, looking fragile and defeated.
The slight tremor in her hands wasn't fear—it was withdrawal. The dark magic was demanding payment.
Elder Whitehawk looked up as we approached.
"Sienna Sterling, Damon Blackwood. You requested an urgent audience?"
"We have new evidence," I announced, my voice carrying clearly across the chamber.
Every head turned toward us. Ethan's eyes narrowed with suspicion, while Cassandra's face went pale.
"What kind of evidence?" Elder Whitehawk asked.
Instead of answering immediately, I walked to the center of the chamber.
"During my Recognition Ceremony, the detection runes revealed corrupted magic," I began. "Today, I will show you exactly where that magic came from."
I held up the leather satchel.
"And how it was created."
Cassandra's sharp intake of breath was audible in the silent chamber.
"This satchel was found hidden beneath the altar stones of the old watchtower," I continued, opening it slowly. "The same watchtower where Cassandra claimed to have first encountered Ethan during his rogue hunt."
I removed the bone needles first, their carved runes glowing with malevolent energy.
"Blood magic tools," Elder Whitehawk breathed, his ancient eyes widening. "These are forbidden."
"The needles are carved with binding runes," I explained, setting them on the evidence table. "Designed to forge artificial connections between unwilling parties."
Next came the vials of blood.
"Two types," I said, holding them up to the light. "Human blood, and wolf blood. Mixed together, they can create the illusion of a fated mate bond."
Gasps echoed through the chamber.
"But the most damning evidence," I said, reaching into the satchel one final time, "is this."
I held up the lock of golden fur.
The air in the chamber grew heavy. A low growl echoed from somewhere beyond the physical realm.
Then Fenrir materialized, his massive form shimmering into existence. His golden eyes blazed with fury as he stared at the stolen piece of himself.
"My essence," he growled, his voice like distant thunder. "Stolen. Corrupted. Used to bind me against my will."
Cassandra shot to her feet, her composure finally cracking.
"No!" she shrieked. "That's not mine! Someone planted it there! Sienna is framing me!"
But her desperation only made her guilt more obvious.
Elder Whitehawk studied the evidence with growing horror.
"These items... they match descriptions from the most forbidden texts. Blood bonding, essence theft, forced mate bonds..." He looked up at Cassandra with disgust. "How did you even learn such magic?"
"I didn't!" Cassandra's voice was shrill now, hysterical. "I would never—I'm not capable of—"
"Show them," Damon said quietly, his voice cutting through her protests like a blade.
I nodded, then reached for the knowledge my grandmother had passed down to me. Ancient words of revelation, meant to expose hidden magic.
"Blood calls to blood. Truth calls to truth. Let what was hidden be revealed."
The words, spoken in the old tongue my grandmother had taught me, activated the evidence before us.
The bone needles began to glow brighter, their runes shifting and changing. The blood vials pulsed with sickly light. And the lock of Fenrir's fur burst into golden flame that illuminated the entire chamber.
But most shocking of all was what happened to Cassandra.
Dark veins appeared on her skin, spreading from her heart outward like poison. The stolen power she had been using to maintain her façade finally showed itself in all its corruption.
"Impossible," Ethan breathed, staring at the woman he thought he loved.
I watched his face carefully. This was the moment everything he believed in would shatter.
Fated mate. True love. Destined bonds.
All lies.
Cassandra looked down at her own hands in horror, watching the dark magic writhe beneath her skin like living things.
"I've done all this because of you, Ethan," she whispered desperately. "I love you so much. You don't understand what it's like to be nothing, to have nothing. I just wanted to be worthy of you."
Her confession hit Ethan like a physical blow. I saw the exact moment his world crumbled—the precious belief that had justified everything he'd done in our previous life.
"You... you used magic on me?"
"Not on you," she said quickly. "On myself. To make the bond feel real. To make you love me the way I love you."
The foundation of his obsession—gone. The sacred connection he'd killed me to protect—fake.
"But the emergency blood bond," Ethan said slowly, his voice hollow. "When you saved my life..."
"I saved you," Cassandra insisted. "That part was real. But I may have... enhanced the connection afterward. To make sure you'd never forget me."
Enhanced. Manipulated. Artificial.
Everything he'd held sacred, everything he'd murdered for—built on lies.
"How long?" he whispered.
"How long have you been using magic to manipulate what I feel?"
Cassandra's silence was answer enough.
I felt a cold satisfaction. The man who had executed me for "killing his fated mate" now faced the truth: his fated mate had never existed at all.
Elder Whitehawk rose from his seat, ancient power gathering around him like a storm.
"Cassandra Stone," he intoned, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of law. "You stand accused of using forbidden blood magic, essence theft, forced bonding, and manipulation of a Pack Alpha through supernatural means."
He paused, letting the enormity of her crimes settle.
"These are capital offenses. How do you plead?"
Cassandra looked around the chamber desperately, searching for any friendly face. But even Ethan had stepped back from her, his expression a mixture of betrayal and horror.
"I plead..." she began, then stopped as she realized no one would help her.
Her shoulders sagged in defeat.
"Guilty," she whispered. "I plead guilty to all charges."
The chamber erupted in chaos, but I barely heard it.
My eyes were on Ethan, watching as months of artificial emotion crumbled away, leaving him to face the truth of what he had done.
The man who had killed me for a lie was finally seeing reality.
Justice, it seemed, had a very sweet taste indeed.
