Chapter 5 Accusations

5 Accusations

Within minutes, the central judgment square was filled with hundreds of wolves. Jaxon stood on the high platform, his face filled with a thunderous rage. Beside him, Verena stood with her head bowed, her hands shaking as she held Jaxon's arm.

“Am hour ago.” Jaxon's voice boomed, cutting through the murmurs of the frightened pack. “The lunar compass was found missing from the sacred vault.”

A collective gasp went out through the shadow fang. The compass was not just a golden Compass, it was the heart of their history, their connection to the moon goddess. Without it, their drought was going to get worse.

“Jaxon surely, no one would be so bold, to steal the compass,” one of the elders said, his voice shaking. “The lunar compass is always protected by the sun's ward.

“The Sun's ward was by passed,” Jaxon hissed, his golden eye flaring with a heat that made the wolves in the front whine.

“Someone within this pack, someone who knows our ways, has betrayed us. They have stolen our luck while we are already starving.” He turned his eyes to the crowd.

“I will give the thief only one chance, to come out now, confess your sin, and I might grant you a quick death. If I have to go through the trouble of searching for it, I will make sure that your death is very painful.”

Silence followed, not a leaf moved.

Astraea felt a cold prickle of fear run down her spine. She looked at Verena, who was now cleaning her eyes with a handkerchief.

“My love,” Verena said, her voice soft, but loud enough for everyone to hear. “Maybe they are too afraid to say something. The Omega's they live in such poverty. Maybe the temptation was too much for someone who has lost their place.”

Jaxon's eyes went to the group of omegas standing in the back. Astraea was standing in the very front, her white hair still dirty, and the tunic stained.

“Boyce,” Jaxon shouted. “Take six men, search the shacks of the Omega's first. Start with the farest end of the village.”

“No one moves from here. If anyone moves, kill them where they stand.”

“Jaxon, you can't mean to search us while we stand here like criminals,” a middle aged woman cried out.

“I mean to find our heritage,” Jaxon roared. “Search them.”

“You heard the Alpha” Boyce shouted gesturing to the six huge warriors. “Move.”

Astraea felt a deep pit opening in her stomach. She watched as Boyce and his men walked towards the very path she had walked in tears just hours ago.

She felt a strange hot sensation at the back of her mind, but she pushed it aside as the remaining part of her sickness.

Beside her, a young omega named Pip leaned in closer to her. “Astraea, you look pale. More than usual. Are you okay?”

“I am fine, Pip,” she whispered, although her legs felt like water. It is just the cold.”

“It is not cold at all,” Pip said, looking at the rising sun. “It is actually quite hot.”

The hour that followed felt like eternity. Jaxon paced the length of the platform he was on. Like a caged tiger, while Verena sat on a stone bench, her eyes closed as if praying.

“They are coming,” someone shouted.

Astraea's head turned towards the path. Boyce was leading the enforcers back. His face hard, in his hand he held a velvet bundle.

As they reached the platform, Boyce stopped. He looked at Jaxon, then he removed the velvet wrap, revealing the golden shine of the lunar compass. The moon stone at the middle glowed under the sun.

The crowd erupted in a roar of fury.

“The compass, where was it?”

“They found it.”

“Who was it?”

“Where was it found?”

Jaxon went forward, his hand shaking with both relief and anger. As he took the compass, he held it high for everyone to see, then turned his eyes back to Boyce.

“Where?” Jaxon asked. “Where did you find the heart of our pack, Boyce?”

Boyce did not hesitate. He pointed his finger directly at the front rows of the Omega.

“In the straw pallet of the back corner,” Boyce announced his voice cold. “It was hidden deep in the shack of the rejected one, Omega Astraea.”

The silence that followed was worse than any shout could have ever been. Astraea felt the air leave her lungs. She looked around, seeing the face of those around her turn from confusion to anger.

“No,” Astraea cried out, her voice breaking.

“No, Jaxon. I did not me. I was in the hall… I do not know how…”

Jaxon looked at her from the platform. The last drop of human sympathy he had for her left his eyes. He looked at her, not as a woman he had once loved, but as a thief that had finally been caught.

“Bring her to the stage, he commanded

#. #. #. #. #.

In the far frozen distance of the world, where the sun was far away and the wind carried the bite of an ancient curse, stood the frozen citadel. It was a fortress of ice, carved into the essence of the world, and inside the diamond hard walls lived a man, who was both a king and a prisoner.

Fenris sat upon his throne, his eyes closed to any outsider he looked like a carved image. He was cold, silent, and scary, but inside his head was a riot. The ghost army was screaming,

“She is bleeding." General Valerius voice sounded like a drum of war, in the back of Fenris head.“The blood of a zenith is touching the southern floor, and you sit here like a pup by the fire. Rise, you whelp, and claim what is yours.”

Fenris did not move, but the veins in his neck stood out like cords. The shadow heat was rising in his blood, a hot fire that threatened to melt the very throne he was sitting on. Steam began to come off his shoulder.

“Quiet, Valerius.” Fenris gasped, his voice sounding like stone grounding together.

“The south is a thousand miles away. If she exists, she is beyond my reach.”

“Reach?” Another voice whispered. This one was smooth and cold as a grave.

Fenris opened his eyes. High Priestess Nyx did not appear as a real person, but as a shining image in the frost air. Her spectral eyes, glowing with the purple light of the void.