"Silence!" Alpha Morrison thundered, his authoritative voice echoing through the vast great hall, slamming against the stone walls like a command from the heavens.
Sofia's heart pounded so loudly it hurt. Evidence… what evidence? Her wide eyes darted around the hall, desperate, searching for even one face that didn't look at her with hatred. But everywhere she turned, she saw judgment. Condemnation. Disgust.
"Bring it," Alpha Morrison ordered.
A warrior stepped forward, carrying a small black device. He set it on the long table, connected it to the screen that hung against the wall. The lights in the hall dimmed, and all eyes turned to watch.
Sofia's pulse hammered in her ears. Her throat went dry as she fixed her trembling eyes on the screen. It flickered to life, and then—there it was. The balcony. Her balcony.
The image was grainy but clear enough to show two figures: her and Lola.
Sofia's hands trembled as she watched. The video played. It showed her standing close to Lola, their faces tense, arguing. Then—her stomach dropped.
The screen showed her hands shoving Lola. Lola staggered, her arms flailing, her face frozen in shock as she struggled against the railing. Then, with a sharp cry, she toppled over the edge.
Gasps exploded across the hall.
"No!" Sofia shouted, her head snapping side to side. "That's not what happened. It's a lie!"
But the screen showed it again, replayed slowly—her hands pushing, Lola falling. She stared at it in horror and confusion.
Something was wrong. The timing, the angle—it wasn't right. She remembered Lola grabbing her wrist, pulling her close, whispering threats… but none of that showed on the screen. The video was clean, too clean.
It was a lie. It was edited.
She whipped her tear-streaked face toward Alpha Morrison, her lips trembling. "This isn't real… it's not the truth… I didn't push her…"
But no one listened.
The pack erupted in outrage.
"She pushed her!"
"She killed her own sister!"
"Monster!"
Lady Cara screamed. She clung to Beta Stephen, her face wet with tears. "Kill her! She murdered my daughter! She must die!"
The crowd roared in agreement, stamping their feet, demanding blood.
Sofia's voice echoed through the hall. "No—it's not true! The video's been changed. Please, you have to believe me!"
But her words only made them angrier.
Damien stepped forward. His face was pale, his green eyes burning with grief and rage. He stopped right in front of her, his shadow falling over her trembling body.
Before she could speak again, Damien's hand hit her cheek.
Slap!
The hall went silent. Sofia's head snapped to the side, her cheek burning red. She froze, wide-eyed, her lips parting, but no words came.
"Enough with your lies," Damien spat, his hands trembling at his sides.
He didn't know what hurt more—the fact that Lola, the young lady he had accepted to love, was dead, ripped away from him in one careless moment… or the fact that Sofia… his once innocent Sofia… had killed her.
The same Sofia he had once defended with his life. The same girl he could have sworn with his life would never hurt a fly.
He looked at her with so much hate, but this wasn't new. His anger toward her hadn't started tonight. It had been festering for years—ever since that day two years ago when she hurt him in a way no one else could, when the girl he once adored suddenly became the girl he swore he couldn't stand.
Damien's fists curled at his side, his frown deepening. His hate for her was intensifying.
"You deserve to die, Sofia…" he hissed into her face before turning sharply and storming back to his seat.
Where Sofia knelt, she remained motionless, her mind blank. There was no use begging, no point crying, no reason to explain. False evidence had been presented, and it all led to one inevitable conclusion: death.
Alpha Morrison rose to his feet. All attention was fixed on him, his voice booming with authority.
"By the law of this pack," he declared, his eyes heavy with disappointment, "no wolf may take the life of another, least of all family. Murder is the greatest crime against our kind. And for such a crime, the punishment is death."
The crowd roared in agreement, stamping their feet.
Sofia's breath caught in her throat. She shook her head weakly, her lips parting, but no words came out. Her voice was gone.
Alpha Morrison's gaze was pinned on her. "Sofia, daughter of Beta Stephen, you are found guilty of the murder of your sister, Lola."
His next words were the words she had expected to hear.
"Tomorrow evening, before the coronation of Damien, you will pay with your life. Death by beheading."
Gasps and cheers shook the hall. Some wolves wept for Lola. Others sneered at Sofia. Lady Cara hugged Beta Stephen tightly, screaming in grief and rage.
"Take her away." Alpha Morrison ordered.
Sofia didn't fight when the guards yanked her up. She didn't kick or scream. Her body felt heavy, her mind blank. She was numb, as if she wasn't even inside her own body anymore.
The hall was buzzing with noise—cheers, shouts, cries for justice—but to her, it was all muffled, like the world was far away.
She could feel the hateful stares. Hundreds of eyes were pinned on her as she was dragged past them. Hatred. Disgust. Anger. Every face screamed the same thing: murderer.
She lowered her gaze, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. She told herself not to cry again. Tears had done nothing for her.
But then—she saw him. Matthew. Damien's best friend. His Beta-to-be.
He wasn't glaring at her with hate. He wasn't spitting curses. He wasn't looking at her like she was filth.
His eyes were blank, unreadable at first, but then they softened as they locked on hers. And for the first time since this nightmare began, Sofia saw something different.
Pity.
Her steps faltered. The guards tugged her forward, but she couldn't look away from Matthew.
Suddenly, Matthew's lips moved silently. A single word.
"Sorry." He mouthed.
That single word made fresh tears slide down her cheeks. This time she wasn't crying because she was accused wrongly and sentenced to death… this time she cried because someone pitied her… someone believed she didn't do it.
When the doors slammed shut behind her, the hall slowly settled. Whispers filled the silence, the pack buzzing with excitement and rage over the coming execution.
But Damien sat still.
His frown deepened. His jaw was locked, his chest rising and falling unevenly.
Lola was gone. His Lola. The girl he had chosen, the girl he had loved—or at least convinced himself he loved.
But it wasn't Lola's face he saw. It was Sofia's—her broken voice, her eyes begging him to believe her.
He shook his head hard. "No. She's changed. She's a monster. I can't forget what she did two years ago. If she could do that, she could do this too.
He whispered the words like a curse, forcing himself to believe them, desperate for justification.
His wolf, Lucas, who was silent all this while, stirred inside him, but he didn't make a comment. For a heartbeat, Damien's chest squeezed so tightly he couldn't breathe.
But then he forced it down. He told himself she was a liar. A killer.
Still… something unsettled him.
"Son… are you okay?" Alpha Morrison's voice pulled him back.
Damien's eyes snapped open. He hadn't realized how hard he was gripping the armrest until he felt the ache in his fingers. His father's gaze was concerned, though carefully hidden behind the mask of an Alpha.
"I know you're in pain," Alpha Morrison said quietly, his words meant only for Damien. "But remember—alphas do not show weakness. Not here. Not in front of the pack. Tomorrow is your coronation. You must be strong, no matter what is burning inside you."
Damien gave a short nod, forcing his face back into a mask. He pushed to his feet, ignoring the whispers around him.
The pack's eyes followed him, some full of sympathy, others of pity.
And he hated it. He hated the way they looked at him like he was broken, like he needed comfort.
He was Damien. The future Alpha. He did not need pity.
His steps carried him toward the stairs that led to his room, just like his father had ordered… but he stopped halfway.
That scent.
He froze. His jaw tightened as it reached him, faint but undeniable.
Sofia.
Even after everything, he could still sense her. Her scent was soft, faintly sweet like wild honey mixed with rain-soaked earth. And no matter how much he told himself to forget it, his wolf stirred restlessly inside him, clawing at the walls of his mind.
Before he could think, Damien's feet changed direction. His stride grew longer, deeper, following the pull of that scent.
He walked down the stairs… through the long corridor.
Until he stood before the dungeon.
The guards stiffened at his approach but lowered their heads without a word.
Damien's chest rose and fell, his hand curled tight at his side as his eyes fixed on the iron door.
Behind it… was Sofia.
The girl he hated.
The girl he couldn't stop thinking about.
"Open it," he ordered.