Chapter 15
504words
Every seat was filled. Every Pack leader, every Elder, every witness to Ethan's crimes sat in judgment.
I stood at the prosecutor's table, the weight of evidence before me. Recording stones. Witness testimonies. Confessions from his co-conspirators.
Ethan sat in chains at the defendant's table. No lawyer. No supporters. No one willing to speak for him.
Three days of trial had stripped away his last pretenses.
Elder Whitehawk rose, his ancient voice carrying to every corner of the hall.
"Ethan Blackwood," he intoned. "You have been found guilty on all charges. Treason. Conspiracy. Attempted regicide. Attempted mass murder."
Ethan's head remained bowed. He hadn't spoken since his arrest.
"The penalty for these crimes is death," Elder Whitehawk continued. "However, the Council has decided to show mercy."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"You are hereby sentenced to exile beyond our borders. You will be stripped of all titles, all lands, all rights as a Pack member. You will never again set foot in our territories."
Ethan's shoulders sagged with relief. He had expected death.
"Furthermore," Elder Whitehawk added, "you will bear the Mark of Exile. All wolves will know your crimes at a glance."
The Mark was worse than death to most wolves. A magical brand that would mark him as outcast forever.
"Any Pack that shelters you will face our wrath," the Alpha King declared. "You are alone, Ethan Blackwood. Forever."
The guards moved to escort him away, but Elder Whitehawk raised his staff.
"Wait," he commanded. "There is one more matter to address."
Every eye turned to the ancient Elder.
"The matter of Shadowfang Pack leadership."
Damon standed up, his presence commanding immediate attention—no longer the overlooked half-brother, but a true Alpha in his own right.
"Damon Blackwood," Elder Whitehawk intoned. "Step forward."
Damon walked to the center with quiet dignity.
"Kneel."
Damon knelt before the assembled witnesses.
"By the ancient laws of succession and by the judgment of this Council," Elder Whitehawk declared, "I hereby name you Alpha of Shadowfang Pack."
"Do you swear to protect your Pack with your life and honor?"
"I swear it," Damon replied, his voice steady as stone.
"Then rise, Alpha Damon of Shadowfang Pack."
Damon stood, and I felt the change in him immediately. The power that had always been there now blazed forth.
The Shadowfang Pack members dropped to one knee in acknowledgment of their new Alpha.
"Furthermore," Elder Whitehawk continued, "the alliance between Shadowfang and Moonlight Packs is hereby renewed."
The formality was complete. Ethan had lost everything—title, Pack, future. Damon had gained everything—respect, power, legitimacy.
"Remove the exile," Elder Whitehawk commanded.
As the guards escorted Ethan away, he looked back once. His eyes met mine—no longer the gaze of an equal, but of a broken man looking at his replacement.
I felt no triumph, only quiet satisfaction.
"It's done," Damon said quietly, taking my hand.
Not yet. There was still one more conversation that needed to happen.
One final truth that needed to be spoken.
