Chapter 108

Theodore

The alpha’s throat bobbed. His eyes watching me warily. It would be no contest. His daughter was barely breathing.

I looked at the girl, softening my tone.

“Regardless of what happens to your father,” I said evenly, “you’ll be given a chance to finish your education and build a future for yourself. And you will be given all the support you need to go after the man who actually did this to you. Because I don’t hold children accountable for their parents’ greed… and my wife has the most gracious of hearts.”

The girl’s lip trembled, her gaze darting between me and her father before finally landing on Violet who hadn't moved and hadn't spoken. I could see some of her fear ease though.

But the bruise on her wrist was getting darker the longer her father kept an iron grip on her. The alpha took a step back, trying to rally support, but I knew even if there was someone in the crowd who might have supported him, they wouldn't say anything with the nobles in the crowd, with the two noble sons still standing at my side, with Violet here too in solidarity.

Believing in my honor and willing to fight about it.

“This—this is ridiculous! You all see how he’s threatening me— Refusing to--”

I took a step forward, rolling my neck.

“I’d shut up and shift if I were you. Shift or retract your words.”

I glared at him. I was seconds from tearing him apart. I could feel my power pulsing. My skin rippling and preparing to shift when a voice cut through the tension.

“Well, isn’t this a warm welcome?”

I clenched my jaw at the familiar, sickening draw. I was wondering when he'd show up to this little show.

Owen.

I turned my head slowly as he strode into the hall, a smirk playing on his lips. If I had any doubts, his expression confirmed it. That and the way the man seemed to relax as soon as he entered the room.

The vicious part of me almost laughed. The fact that this idiot thought that Owen could save him from me was hilarious. I'd just as soon kill Owen, too, at this point.

Violet's mind brushed against mine in a soothing carress. My heart skipped a beat.

Had she… heard what I was thinking or just felt it through the bond?

"I think that's more than enough, don't you think? You're embarrassing yourself, Theodore. More than usual, anyway." Owen’s voice rang out across the hall, smug and unbothered. He dropped his gaze to the tie on the ground with a sneer. “And how primitive. Pick up your tie. If you'd taken the time to read the recent news, I’ve abolished the challenge rites from our laws,” he declared, arms spread wide like he was granting everyone a favor. “It is time we entered a more civilized age."

He cocked a dismissive eyebrow at me. "And I won’t hear any suits over a known manwhore, either. It's about time we hold me like you accountable. It would be in your best interest to--”

He broke off. I knew I was glaring at him. I knew that the look on my face must have shown exactly how I felt about him at this moment because he flinched, going pale as our eyes met. I could imagine the way his throat would give way, how in a moment could be shifted, pouncing on him and ripping his throat out before anyone even noticed I'd moved.

He might be thinking back to that moment we shared at the hospital. I hoped he was because I was just as ready to kill him now as I had been then. He stepped back a bit.

The crowd murmured, shifting uneasily. Some of the alphas looked relieved, others—especially the more traditional ones—looked outright offended.

Owen schooled his expression and turned to look around. His gaze sliding over the girl appraisingly.

“Maybe you didn't do it on purpose. She is quite convincing, isn't she?"

"Perhaps for a man who likes an underdeveloped figure," I said, glaring at him. "You're revealing a bit much about yourself right now Owen."

He narrowed her eyes. "A man who was known to be in the thrall of the mating drive has little ability to reason. And really, should we be surprised?” he continued, his tone mocking. “I mean, with this whole Shelter Project of yours, Theodore, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunity to expand your collection of mistresses of all ages. What better way to gather a harem than pretending to be a savior?”

I clenched my fists, but before I could speak, his gaze flicked to Violet.

“And you.” His grin widened, falsely sweet. “Do you really think you’re better off with a man who sleeps with children than the man who simply had a lapse in judgement in the throes of passion?"

A growl rippled through my chest.

Violet didn’t so much as flinch, but her fury was screaming through her bond. I heard her move. Felt her glide a few steps away. Part of me went stiff with fear.

"Your Grace?" She called and lifted a hand, gesturing toward the High Priest, who was speaking quietly with one of the rogue women near the back of the hall. Her voice sounded as if Owen had simply walked in as a minor annoyance.

He looked up. "It is rare for you to call me so formally."

She smiled. Her voice carried across the hall, amplified by the space and sounding bigger, more authoritative… queenly. “Would you come here for a moment?”

Owen stiffened. I turned just in time to catch the flicker of unease crossing his face.

He didn’t know.

He'd had no idea that the High Priest was here. Otherwise, he probably wouldn't have tried this stunt.

To think his whole speech against noble privileges and some of the laws we'd had since founding were just to set this situation up.

Had Violet known?

Part of me felt like she had. Was this part of her plan?

Owen had no control over temple laws or conduct.

The High Priest approached, his expression mild but interested. “Yes, Lady Donovan?”

Violet smiled, though her eyes were sharp. “Since His Majesty Owen is so content to let this girl’s father use her as a pawn for his own gain, and so willing to allow injustice to stand for his gain, I was wondering if you might preside over this suit instead?”

A murmur swept through the room.

Owen fumbled. “That’s—not necessary—”

“But I am here, and you did say you would not hear the suit,” the High Priest interrupted smoothly, turning to face him. He looked down at my tie on the floor. “The challenge has been initiated in accordance wit the temple's challenge rites as well, as you well know.” His eyes glinted. “Unless you’d like to publicly reject the temple’s authority? Or preside over the suit here and now, Your Majesty?”

Owen clenched his jaw. He couldn’t. He couldn't take his words back and he couldn't interfere since I had already initiated the challenge. The problem was I had no idea what the temple's challenge rites entailed.

The High Priest smiled. “Then let us proceed.”

The High Priest stepped between us, his presence commanding silence as he lifted a hand. The murmurs in the room faded, and the weight of the ritual settled over the hall. His voice rang clear.

“Lord Theodore Nightshade, alpha of Midnight, Luna Consort of Darkmoon.” His eyes locked onto mine. “By the laws of the temple, I will ask, and you will answer truthfully. Do you swear?”

I inclined my head. “I swear.”

The High Priest nodded, then spoke the first question.

“Did you sleep with this young woman?”

“No.” My voice was firm, steady.

The girls' father shifted uneasily. His daughter kept her eyes down, hands trembling at her sides.

The High Priest continued. “Is the child she carries yours?”

“No,” I said again, unwavering.

Gasps echoed through the room. The audience leaned in, watching closely, waiting for what came next. He turned to the girl’s father, his gaze sharp as a blade.

“Now, Rylan Blackwell.” His voice carried through the chamber. “You have made this accusation before your peers, before the temple, and before the law. Do you swear to answer truthfully?”

Rylan’s face had lost all color. His throat bobbed, he took a step back. His eyes widening, looking between me and the High Priest. His gaze darted over to Owen and he took another step back.

"I will ask again," the High Priest said. "Do you swear to answer truthfully?"

Rylan said nothing. I could see the dread and fear building. The sweat on his brow was visible even from where I stood.

The High Priest waited.

Silence stretched.

Then, like a coward, Rylan yanked his daughter and shoved her toward me.

“She—she should answer that,” he stammered. “She’s the one carrying it, not me.”