Nick

I remembered the first time I wandered down to this chamber, the night our clan stood up to the Elders, demanding answers. Tonight, my visit served a very different purpose.

Tonight, the only question I sought an answer to was whether I’d again see the light of day.

I came alone, wanting to spare my family the pain of seeing me being taken away. It was no secret the Council had a zero-tolerance rule when it came to jeopardizing the safety of the clan, risking exposure. I later discovered it was also against the rules to fraternize with clan witches without the consent from the Elders.

I’d done all three, and to add fuel to the fire, I inadvertently endangered Evangeline’s life, whom the Council regarded as their queen.

In short, I jacked this up about as much as anyone could possibly do. If there was an award for royal screw-up, I’d win gold, silver, and bronze.

My arms ached where two giants gripped them. They showed up at the door of my grandfather’s estate to escort me to the trial. I suppose lycans in my position typically tried to run, but they wouldn’t have any trouble out of me. I’d done enough running, and at the end of the day, the Council knew exactly how to make me come out of hiding. All it took was endangering the life of someone I cared about. This time, it was Roz. Next time, it could be any one of my friends or family and I wouldn’t risk it. They were all-seeing and all-powerful, so the best chance any of us had to exist in peace was if we submitted.

So, I submitted.

Heavy chains were clamped to my wrists when we came to a stop at the foot of the long, descending staircase. Like always, the only source of light came from torches placed intermittently in holders along the stone walls and pillars. This place always held a sinister air to it, but now, as I awaited the Council’s decision, it seemed darker still.

“The Chancellor will be out in a moment. Don’t move,” one of the giant lycans ordered as he attached my chains to a pillar. The chains were spelled, bound with magic, making it impossible to break free.

There were others here. Three. All in chains, all with the same frightened, desperate looks on their faces. When I tried to imagine what this experience would be like, I never even considered anyone else being stupid enough to piss off our supernatural government.

Clearly, I was wrong.

Then again, it was likely they’d only committed minor offenses, small things deemed criminal by the Council.

More rattling chains dragged across the stone floor behind me. The four of us who waited suddenly turned, taking in the site of another figure, a weak man; one who could barely stand on his own. More of the giant lycan guards brought him closer, into the light of a nearby torch, and it was then that I took in the sight of him.

Naked, shaking, covered in dirt and deep, bloody gashes. It was impossible to tell what caused the wounds—his own actions or the guards as they rounded him up—but deciding why he was so groggy took little thought.

A witch.

I’d never seen this one before, but guessed she was among the Elders’ replacements, seeing as how I watched the others lose their heads and burn to death.

Courtesy of Evangeline.

She appeared to be young, no older than her mid-twenties, but I guessed that was nothing more than illusion. As the man stood and the guards held him upright at either side, she kept a hand to the chained lycan’s back, using her magic to subdue him. They continued forward, and so close, I recognized his face. His name escaped me, but I knew he was a senior my freshman year, a member of Kyle’s graduating class.

I watched as they bypassed the pillar beside me. Instead of linking him to it like the rest of us had been, they proceeded on toward the long table where the Council would soon be seated. As soon as I thought of them, the sound of screeching, metal hinges filled the hollow room.

Shuffling feet and dark robes.

Each of the twenty or more seats were filled and the already silent room became even quieter.

It was the sound of uncertainty.

The sound of fear.

My heart raced and my wolf tried to burst free. However, but the magic spelled around my wrists made shifting impossible, leaving me in physiological limbo. The bones that broke and repaired themselves as I shifted, cracked one by one, sending searing jolts shooting through every muscle, every limb, and then stayed that way, ready to shift.

But magic forbid it.

I wanted to cry out in pain, but knew it’d be in my best interest to show some semblance of control. I needed to reverse this, needed to send the beast within me a signal to calm him.

Closing my eyes, I breathed deep and searched for a thought to take my mind off the threat I sensed all around me now that the Council was among us. Perhaps it’d just become real that, on this day, my life could end, sending my beast into survival mode.

Think, Nick. Think.

These lycans needed to know I wasn’t just some uncontrollable freak of nature. In fact, I hadn’t had a single blackout since leaving the facility. I’d gone over the possible reasons for this about a million times. And each of those million times, I was forced to admit that only one new factor had been introduced.

Roz.

We were together around the clock, and any other incident in which I’d lost time, I was alone-either in my room at the facility, or at my grandfather’s estate. But once she was with me, it stopped.

Revisiting a theory I’d come up with late one night, I focused on her. Maybe she was the key to subduing me.

She called several times since we arrived home roughly twenty-four hours ago. I didn’t answer, but did text to let her know I was okay. She didn’t know about tonight, though. I kept telling myself that was because I didn’t want her to worry, but … being honest, I didn’t tell her because I was afraid she’d show up, putting herself in harm’s way once again.

For me.

We were beginning to evolve. Thinking back, I believe the change started a while ago—before I was ready to accept it—but it was directly in my face now. Yes, she was a friend, but … if I was being honest, she’d been more than that for quite some time. I felt things for her a guy doesn’t really feel for a friend.

Back when we still felt like normal teenage kids, Lucas and Chris suggested she was into me, but all I saw was the smart-mouthed sophomore who could never leave well enough alone. When I looked at her lately, I saw so much more.

A beautiful girl with a beautiful soul to match.

Slowly, gently, my fractured bones mended themselves and the pain evaporated like it never existed. I could focus again, blinking my eyes as a surge of air filled my lungs.

The man was called forward, the one with all the gashes.

Jared Spencer.

He ambled toward the Council’s table and, again, the witch kept her palm to his back. I wondered if he’d been brought here filthy and unclothed to humiliate him, but, when his trial began, his story started to unfold.

I scanned the panel of Council and High Council members as one dressed in a navy cloak read the case aloud. The variation in color set them apart from lower-level Elders in red who were also seated among them. The one who read fell silent, studying the stack of papers for a long stretch of time before lifting his gaze again.

Without guessing, his presence alerted me right away as to who he was. This had to be the Chancellor a guard mentioned.

“Am I wrong to assume this is exactly the outcome you sought? Wrong to assume you were hoping to one day stand before us, a pitiful sight and embarrassment to lycans everywhere?” His deep voice rattled loose stones that’d fallen from the aged pillars.

“When one bridles his wolf to the point of the beast breaking free of his own volition,” he went on, “it is, typically, either the result of negligence or stupidity.” A long stare lingered on Jared, the lycan in question. “So, which is it, Mr. Spencer? Are you negligent or stupid?”

I hadn’t forgotten what my brothers told me when I first shifted, that not doing so often enough would make you morph out, and the punishment for such a thing was death.

Did they really think this guy let that happen on purpose?

However, to my surprise, he nodded.

Two of the others being held like I was, turned to stare at one another in disbelief.

“It’s true,” he admitted.

A quiet murmur surrounded the Council’s table as different ones reacted to the confession.

“If choosing not to shift, if choosing to be human isn’t possible, then … I’ve got nothing to live for.”

The one seated in the center, holding Jared’s file, didn’t move as the chatter around him continued. He stared from beneath his hood’s shadow and I imagined the look of disgust that likely lingered there.

“You have nothing to live for,” he repeated, still gazing at Jared.

Jared’s chains rattled when he shifted his bare feet over the cement floor.

“Because I don’t want this,” he said, staring at his shackled hands with conviction. “I don’t want to be … a monster.”

My brow quirked at those words, hearing someone voice aloud a thought I’d had myself. While most embraced lycanism as a gift, there were the small few of us who saw it as more of a curse.

Jared’s views, clearly, aligned with the minority.

The room was quiet again, and I was aware of each breath that left my mouth, wondering if my brothers had been right. Wondering if death was truly the only outcome.

“Very well then.” I stared as the Chancellor stood, the hem of his navy cloak dragging the ground as he rounded the table, lessening the distance between himself and the pillars where the rest of us stood waiting.

Eventually, he came to a stop before Jared. Only now did I realize how much larger these lycans were than the rest of us—who were quite large already. These members of the High Council were as foreboding as the giants who brought us here.

“In accordance with the sanctions of this sacred Council, it is with great sadness that your journey must end here. At all times, it is our duty to protect our clans. On this day, it has been decided that you, Jared Spencer, have knowingly committed an offence that threatens the safety and secrecy of our species. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

I listened to the cloaked beast’s speech and felt the cool indifference in his tone. While he spoke of sadness, there were no traces of that emotion in his words.

“No, sir,” Jared trembled.

“Very well then,” the beast said once more, giving those of us who looked on no warning before revealing a sharp, pointed blade that he’d hidden in his sleeve. The tip of it disappeared in the side of Jared’s neck, shoved violently into his flesh.

Sound gurgled from his mouth as he instinctively reached for the guards, looking to hold on to someone as his last seconds of life ticked past. The Council member stepped back to avoid Jared’s touch, staring down on him when his knees hit the cement with a loud, jarring thud. Blood poured from his mouth and wound, painting the floor a macabre crimson.

He was fading too fast. With how quickly we heal, it should have taken longer for him to die, but when his limbs went still, I knew the blade had been laced with magic.

Just as cold as the speech he delivered, the Chancellor handed the dripping blade to a guard who wiped it clean, and then placed the weapon back in the Chancellor’s possession. As he returned to his seat, the now lifeless lycan was dragged off into the shadows.

“Nicholas Stokes.”

The other three who were to stand trial shifted wide-eyed gazes in my direction.

A key clanked in the lock securing me to the pillar. The guard returned it to his pocket before yanking me toward the Council’s table. While my case was silently looked over, I closed my eyes, deciding that I’d accept my fate and take whatever I had coming to me like a man. A solid minute passed and I opened them again, seeing that the one who’d just executed a man right before my eyes held a paper in his hands—one on lined, notebook paper, written in blue ink. My brow tensed, not remembering anything but typed documents in Jared’s.

The paper lowered and the Council member glared at me. Well, at least I think he did.

“You’ve been rather busy, I see.”

My stomach sank and I didn’t respond.

“Several counts of recklessness that would justify being sentenced to the same fate as Mr. Spencer,” he added, causing me to wince.

Swallowing a lump in my throat I reminded myself of the promise I’d just made a moment ago, that I’d take this like a man.

“I’m aware, sir,” I choked out, feeling the familiar sting of bile in the back of my throat as my stomach churned.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” he asked. “Any … colorful excuses to offer for this elaborate mess you’ve created? Anything to add that might change our minds here tonight?”

I thought about that, aware of the amusement in his tone when he posed the question. He may have thought my youth made me ignorant, but I knew this wasn’t possible. There was no talking them out of adhering to their strict laws and subsequent punishments.

It was written in stone even if I wouldn’t let myself accept it until now.

In this spot, standing in another man’s blood … was where I’d die.

“No, sir,” I forced out, sounding far more confident than the pile of mush I’d become on the inside.

“Very well then,” he said in the same monotone he’d uttered those very words to Jared before ending his life.

In similar fashion, he rose from his seat and made slow steps around the table. My heart was in my throat as I wished I had said more. Even if it wouldn’t change things, I should have prepared something. Seemed a shame for me to die like this with not having thought of last words.

With not having said goodbye to Roz.

The sickening feeling spread within me, and in that moment, not reaching out to her was my biggest regret. While I still believed she would’ve done something stupid and gotten herself involved in this in some way, not admitting to feelings I kept under wraps seemed like a tragedy.

But here I was.

Facing death.

“In accordance with the sanctions of this sacred Council, it is with great sadness that your journey must end here,” he recited. “At all times, it is our duty to protect our clans. On this day, it has been decided that you, Nicholas Stokes, have knowingly committed an offence that threatens the safety and secrecy of our species. Again, I ask, do you have anything to say for yourself?”

I froze, paralyzed by fear and something else I couldn’t place at the time—incompletion. My life was ending like an abrupt, mid-sentence cliffhanger. The finality of it rendered me speechless again. Another missed opportunity to give my final words.

When I failed to reply, a metallic glint caught the light of a nearby torch and I glanced there, to his shriveled, white hand. He held the blade, the one laced with magic, the one that would pierce my throat, resulting in my untimely death.

He stepped closer and my knees felt unstable, like they’d give out beneath me.

Take it like a man, Nick. Take it like a man.

I braced myself, anticipating the sting of the blade breaking skin as I squeezed my eyes shut. But … that sting never came.

“You deserve to bleed out at my feet.”

The coarse words took me by surprise and my eyes popped open.

So close, I could make out his features, although just barely. His face was what nightmares are made of.

Death.

He looked like death.

I was so startled by his appearance that I nearly missed what he said next.

“Lucky for you … someone of importance doesn’t see you as a complete waste of skin.” The words came out like he was smiling, amused by my shock, my fear.

“I—I don’t understand.”

He stepped toward his table again, grabbing the sheet of paper I’d seen him reading a moment ago. The one someone had written by hand. When he turned to me again, he said two words that made everything come into perspective.

“Our queen.”

Evie.

She’d written the letter?

“And, if I’ve read your file correctly, one of your infractions involved an act that endangered her life,” the Chancellor muttered, beginning to circle me several seconds before going on. “How gracious of her to submit such a … moving letter on your behalf.”

My mind raced, stopping at every one of my infractions, everything I’d done that brought me to this point—facing my own death. I, according to our laws, had earned this.

But … she saved me? After everything I’d done? After everything I cost her?

The Chancellor stopped in front of me again and I got another darkened glimpse of his face, as if the first hadn’t been enough.

Stepping closer, he whispered. “Since the first time your name was mentioned in my presence, since I first came to know what you are … I’ve been against letting you live,” he confessed with so much conviction it surprised me he hadn’t persuaded the others to side with him.

“You’re a maverick,” he added, annunciating every syllable as he spoke them into my ear, keeping these words between only he and I when adding, “And there’s no place for mavericks in our realm.”

I breathed deep, but never spoke to defend myself.

“Nevertheless,” he sighed, stepping back and allowing the volume of his voice to carry again, “my peers have decided to vote on the matter, and to my dismay, you’ll live to breathe another day.”

Relief swept over me and I nearly passed out from breathing so deeply, staring at the blood beneath the soles of my shoes. The blood of a lycan who hadn’t been so lucky. A lycan who didn’t have connections to a compassionate, selfless girl named Evie.

Adding to the apology I owed her was a huge thank you.

“However,” the Chancellor crooned, turning on his heels to face the rest of the Council as he addressed me once more, “your deeds will not go unpunished. Death is not the only way to settle your debt.” He whirled, and I imagined a grin on that terrible face of his when he added, “I’m sure you’ve realized by now, we’re quite a clever and innovative species.”

Curiosity and dread both filled me at the same time.

“I’m sure you prepared your family for the possibility of never returning home after your trial, and you were right to do so.”

That churning in my stomach was back as I stared, waited.

He stepped close again and, upon breathing one word, my knees nearly buckled.

“Exile.”

Exile.

“Nicholas Stokes, by the power vested in me as Chancellor of this, our sacred Council, I hereby sentence you to a life of hardship among other criminals like yourself.” The words left his mouth in slow, satisfied waves. “We may have agreed to let you leave this room alive, but … I’m sure you’ll soon realize we’ve only prolonged the inevitable.”

One of the guards that held me in place snickered and a chill rushed up my spine at the sound of it. This decision brought them all so much joy, knowing I’d suffer.

“Our verdict is just, and it is final,” The Chancellor said in closing. “Good luck,” he added with amusement. “You’ll certainly need it.”