Chapter 8

They led me through hallways I'd walked my whole life, now transformed into my last journey. Pack members lined the walls, their faces blurred with curiosity and judgment. Some had known me since I was a child. Not one stepped forward to help me.

Rain poured down outside, turning the path to the ceremonial clearing into mud. My white dress dragged through puddles, the hem darkening with dirt. Soon it would darken with my blood.

The four warriors surrounded me, keeping their distance, not out of respect for me, but for the ritual of execution. Even killing required proper ceremony in pack culture.

"Keep moving," Ryan muttered when I slowed, my legs growing heavier with each step.

Ahead, torches lit up the clearing despite the rain. Their flames hissed and sputtered against the droplets trying to put them out. A wooden platform stood in the center, three steps leading to a flat stage where I would take my last breath.

The entire pack had gathered, hundreds of faces turned toward me as we entered. Children stared with wide eyes, some clutching their parents' hands. Elders watched from special seats, their faces grim. Warriors stood at attention, forming a circle around the platform.

At the bottom of the steps stood Alpha Gregory, his ceremonial robes heavy with silver patterns. Beside him, Linda's face glowed with excitement. Near them, in places of honor, sat Sara in her wheelchair, Catherine's hand resting possessively on her shoulder.

Damian stood apart, his face impossible to read in the flickering torchlight.

My father was nowhere to be seen. True to form, he had chosen to be absent rather than watch.

The drums started again as I approached, a slow, steady beat that matched my pounding heart. Each thump brought me closer to my end.

"Halt," Alpha Gregory commanded when we reached the platform.

The clearing went silent, even the rain seeming to soften against the leaves above.

"Lexa, daughter of Beta Thomas," the Alpha's voice boomed formally, "you have been found guilty of trying to murder your sister, Sara. Pack law demands blood for blood."

His eyes met mine briefly, something flickering behind them—doubt? But his voice stayed strong, reaching every ear in the clearing.

"Do you have any final words before sentence is carried out?"

All eyes turned to me, hungry for confessions, begging, or dramatic speeches. I gave them none.

"I am innocent," I said simply, my voice clear despite the rain. "That is all."

Whispers rippled through the crowd. They had expected more, tears or desperate pleading. My calmness seemed to unsettle them.

Alpha Gregory nodded once. "The execution will proceed."

Ryan and another warrior took my arms, guiding me up the three wooden steps. The platform felt rough beneath my bare feet, already slick with rain. In its center stood a low stone block, the execution stone, brought out only for killings.

"Kneel," Ryan instructed quietly.

I lowered myself to my knees before the stone, its surface cold and hard. My white dress pooled around me, rain plastering it to my skin.

Catherine leaned forward, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. Sara's face showed nothing, though I caught the slight smile at the corner of her mouth. Linda nodded approvingly, as if watching a successful dinner party rather than an execution.

The drums stopped. In the sudden silence, Alpha Gregory climbed the steps, each footfall heavy with purpose. Behind him came the executioner, a masked figure carrying a ceremonial silver blade. The weapon gleamed despite the dim light, its edge razor-sharp.

"Bend forward," the Alpha commanded. "Place your neck upon the stone."

I hesitated, one last act of rebellion against the death they'd chosen for me. Then slowly, I leaned forward, resting my cheek against the wet stone. Rain mixed with the single tear that escaped down my face.

The clearing stayed silent except for the soft patter of rain. Every eye watched, every breath held.

The executioner positioned himself beside me, blade ready. I closed my eyes, not wanting my last sight to be the faces of those who hated me.

"Proceed," Alpha Gregory ordered.

But nothing happened.

I opened my eyes, turning my head slightly. The executioner stood frozen, waiting for a signal that hadn't come. Alpha Gregory stood motionless, his hand half-raised.

His face had changed. The certainty, the authority that had carried him through the trial and sentencing had disappeared. His eyes, fixed on me, held something I'd never seen directed my way before.

Doubt.

"Alpha?" Linda's voice cut through the silence, sharp with impatience. "Is something wrong?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he kept staring at me, his expression troubled.

"Gregory!" Linda hissed, loud enough for those nearby to hear.

The Alpha blinked, like someone waking from a dream. "A moment," he muttered, barely audible over the rain.

Whispers spread through the crowd. This was not how executions were supposed to go.

"Is there a problem?" Catherine called, her voice tight with anger.

Alpha Gregory turned toward her, then back to me. "I..." He trailed off, uncertainty washing over his face.

Sara straightened in her wheelchair. "What's happening? Why is he waiting?"

"Gregory," Linda stood now, her elegant features hardening. "The pack is waiting."

The Alpha raised his hand again, this time more firmly. "Executioner, proceed."

The masked figure nodded, raising the silver blade high above my exposed neck. Torchlight bounced off its surface, momentarily blinding me.

This was it. My final heartbeats, my final breaths.

The blade began its downward swing.

I closed my eyes.

A roar split the night, primal and powerful, filled with rage.

The sound froze everyone in place, including the executioner, whose blade stopped mid-swing.

It wasn't a human shout. It wasn't even a normal werewolf howl.

It was something else. Something ancient. Something terrifying.

The crowd turned as one toward the sound. Faces paled, eyes widened, bodies tensed.

At the edge of the clearing stood a figure, massive and imposing, radiating power that seemed to bend the very air. Taller than any normal werewolf, broader, with an aura that sent waves of pressure across the entire gathering.

Pack members nearest to the figure stumbled backward, some falling in their rush to create distance. Warriors instinctively reached for weapons, then froze, unable to complete the motion.

"Who dares?" the figure growled, the voice so deep it seemed to shake the ground beneath us.

Alpha Gregory's face drained of color. The silver blade clattered to the platform as the executioner dropped it, backing away.

"This execution is over," the figure declared, stepping forward into the torchlight.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Recognition dawned on various faces, followed by confusion, fear, and in some cases, what looked like awe.

Linda's hand flew to her throat. "It can't be," she whispered.

Even Sara, so confident in her victory moments before, had shrunk back in her wheelchair, Catherine's protective arm around her shoulders visibly shaking.

"The female is under my protection," the figure announced, each word heavy with authority that made Alpha Gregory's power seem tiny by comparison. "Anyone who touches her dies by my hand."

The statement hung in the air, unquestioned, absolute.

The figure took another step forward, and the crowd split apart like water, creating a path straight to the execution platform.

Alpha Gregory found his voice, though it came out weaker than I'd ever heard it. "This is pack business. You have no jurisdiction..."

"I have EVERY jurisdiction," the figure cut him off. The power behind those words seemed to press against every chest, making it hard to breathe.

Recognition flickered across the Alpha's face, followed by something I'd never seen there before.

Pure fear.

Linda stumbled backward, her legs suddenly unsteady. Damian moved forward as if to speak, then thought better of it, shrinking back into the crowd.

The powerful presence continued to advance through the parting crowd, unhurried yet unstoppable. The air around it seemed to shimmer with energy, creating a visible wave that made it hard to focus clearly on its features.

One thing was clear: this wasn't just any werewolf.

This was power beyond anything I'd ever witnessed.

And somehow, impossibly, it had come for me.