4. Framed

As Annatoria was dragged into the council room, her gaze locked with the elders seated in a rigid semicircle, their faces devoid of emotion. They resembled statues carved from stone, unyielding and unforgiving. Elder Scrolls, the oldest and most revered Lycan, sat at the far end, his throne an imposing symbol of authority that dominated the room.Their stern faces gnawed at her but, she was eager to hear them listen to her own part of the Story.

“What is happening?” her wolf whispered within her, unease blending with Annatoria’s rising panic. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to remain calm. She knew she hadn’t touched Radolf. Their confrontation had been nothing more than words—angry, biting words, but words nonetheless.

“Luna Annatoria, you’ve been summoned for judgment,” Elder Evelyn announced, her voice as cold and sharp as an arctic wind. She stood tall, her piercing gaze unwavering as it bore into Annatoria.

“Judgment?” Annatoria repeated, confusion tightening her chest. Her voice trembled slightly, but her defiance still flickered. What could they possibly accuse her of?

“Yes,” Evelyn said, a cruel smile curling her lips. “And the punishment for your sin must be delivered publicly.”

Annatoria’s heart raced as the weight of Evelyn’s words settled over her. Sin? What sin?

“Bring her to the front,” Elder Scrolls commanded, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. The guards flanking Annatoria tightened their grip on her arms and pulled her forward without hesitation, their movements brusque and unrelenting.

Each step she took besides the Lycan guards, her heart shook in fear. She did nothing wrong but, she sensed something evil approaching.

As they stepped outside, the gathered pack came into view, their murmurs filling the tense air. Hundreds of eyes turned toward Annatoria, some filled with pity, others gleaming with curiosity or judgment. Her gaze swept the crowd before landing on Radolf.

He stood tall and composed, his face an unreadable mask. To her, though, his presence radiated betrayal. The man she had loved, trusted, and sacrificed for now looked at her as if she were a stranger—or worse, an enemy.

“I, Radolf Z’ev, reject you, Annatoria Hawkins, as my mate.”

The crowd stilled, the shock of his words rippling through the assembly. Annatoria’s knees wobbled, but she forced herself to remain upright, her face a mask of disbelief and pain.

“What?” she whispered, the single word carrying her devastation.

Radolf stepped forward, his voice rising above the murmur of the crowd. “Annatoria Hawkins is a liar and a cheat. I want every single one of you to know that the woman who claimed to love me is nothing but a fraud.”

Annatoria froze, her breath caught in her throat. Her wolf growled furiously, but the weight of his accusations rendered her momentarily speechless. "She cheated on me, with an unknown man". The whole crowd echoed, their voices creeping into her ears as her eyes welled up.

“I didn’t cheat on you,” she finally managed, her voice trembling. “How dare you accuse me of something so vile?”

Radolf’s gaze hardened. “Enough of your lies,” he spat. “Bring the proof.”

The crowd parted as Loreen, Annatoria’s closest friend, stepped forward. Annatoria’s heart sank at the sight of her.

“Loreen?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “What are you doing?”

Loreen didn’t meet her eyes. Instead, she silently handed a thick file to Elder Scrolls. As he opened it and began sifting through its contents, Annatoria felt a cold dread settle over her.

The elders passed the pictures around, each one showing a woman who looked exactly like Annatoria in bed with another man. The images were intimate, damning. Annatoria’s stomach churned as she stared at them, disbelief etched on her face.

“That’s not me!” she cried, her voice breaking. “You have to believe me. Someone’s framing me!”

Radolf scoffed, stepping closer. “Is that the best you can do? Excuses? Lies? I should’ve known.”

Annatoria’s wolf surged forward, her fury unmistakable. “You should’ve known?” she said, her voice rising with anger. “And what about you, Radolf? How many nights did you leave me, chasing after other women? How many times did I stay silent while you humiliated me? And now you dare to accuse me?”

Gasps erupted from the crowd at her outburst, and Radolf’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "Is that why you cheated on him, Luna?" Loreen asked on top of her voice. It was a sarcastic question that was accompanied with a slight smirk.

Annatoria paused, staring at her bestfriend who made intense eye contact with her.

“Who is this in the picture, Luna Annatoria?” Elder Scrolls demanded, his tone sharp, jolting her back to present.

“It’s not me,” Annatoria repeated, her voice steadier now. “I’ve never seen that man in my life. This is a setup, and you all know it.”

“Liar!” Loreen’s voice rang out, cutting through the murmurs. She stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with malice. “She’s a whore! She doesn’t deserve to be Luna!”

Annatoria turned toward Loreen, the betrayal slicing through her like a blade. “Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice low and raw.

Loreen smirked but offered no answer.

“Guards, seize her!” Evelyn ordered, her voice brimming with finality.

The guards advanced toward Annatoria, but she raised a hand, her wolf’s energy crackling in the air around her. “Touch me, and I’ll take you down with me,” she warned, her voice calm yet menacing.

The guards hesitated, glancing at the elders for direction.

“Enough!” Radolf barked, silencing the tension. He stepped closer, his gaze fixed on Annatoria. “Annatoria Hawkins, you are hereby banished from this pack. Leave now, or be forced to leave.”

Annatoria stared at him, the man who had once been her everything now reduced to a stranger she loathed. “You’ll regret this,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the storm raging within her.

The guards grabbed her again, dragging her toward the borders. The gathered pack parted as she passed, their whispers chasing her like ghosts.

As Annatoria crossed the threshold of the pack’s territory, she didn’t cry. She didn’t beg.

They had taken everything—her mate, her home, her name.

But they hadn’t broken her. Not yet.