Luna Revealed

Chapter Twenty Eight

The outrage at the table is instantaneous. Phoenix and Caine stand first, their movements so sudden, their chairs both fall back. An attendant quickly comes over to stand them back up, but can only do one before more people begin to stand. Voices are overlapping, shouting over each other. The only people remaining seated are me, Emir, and Ilya.

We look at each other, Ilya's dark eyes flicking between me and Emir. Emir dramatically rolls his eyes before pulling himself to a standing position. His dark, salt-and pepper-hair – which was braided back at the trial – falls in waves around him. The black cloak around his shoulders is held in place with an intricate golden chain at the base of his throat; his dark, marked chest on full display. His tall, kingly appearance quiets the room.

He gestures for everyone to sit. When they don't, he tilts his head to the side, a dark look washing over his face. Suddenly, people begin to sit, one by one, falling heavily into their chairs. The attendant only just manages to put Phoenix's chair back in place before he collapses into it. Everyone's faces are strained, as though they want to open their mouths and speak, but can't.

I look curiously at Ilya, who doesn't seem to be under Emir's compulsion, but is instead regarding him with a mixture of respect and something that looks like lust. I shake my head and look at Emir, whose face has cleared.

"That's better. It is much nicer in here when everyone is quiet and respectful." He looks around the room, meeting everyone's eyes. "For now, you will remain silent unless I allow you to speak. Alpha Remus, if you will." He gestures at Julian before sitting again.

Julian lets out a rough breath, as if he's been choked. He clears his throat a few times before he can speak. "Please understand, Elder Emir. This execution cannot be delayed."

"And why not?" Emir asks, settling comfortably in his chair, crossing one long leg over the other.

"Viktor Sokolov is strong; very strong. We don't have the wolfsbane supply to keep him sedated for what could be a months-long investigation." He pauses, exasperated. "What do you want us to do with him?"

Ilya raises his hand, respecting Emir's rules of not speaking out of turn. Emir gestures for him to speak. "Thank you, Elder Emir," Ilya says, his voice almost a purr. "If I may speak for Dziewanna: we have no problem with Viktor being executed for both the crimes here as well as the crimes in Russia. I am sure that with modern technology, we can document the execution so that any other victims the Elders discover can confirm his identity." He pauses and smiles at Emir. "This isn't the dark ages after all."

Emir returns his smile, though his is much less seductive than Ilya's. "Very good point, Ilya. That is something the Elders will take into consideration as we discuss this." He then looks at me, the purple of his irises swimming with an unfamiliar emotion. "What about you, Dahlia?" He asks, my name almost a caress. "How do you feel about this?"

My eyes widen, unprepared for the sudden attention. Everyone looks at me, even Julian. I clear my throat. "I think Viktor deserves to die for what he did to his mate and to those women in the prison." I pause and look at Phoenix, whose eyes are hard with emotion. "And to me." I look back at Emir. "I just don't know what kind of harm that may have on future investigation."

Emir opens his mouth to speak again, but I continue. "However," I say, looking at him apologetically. "I don't think there were any crimes between Russia and here."

"And why not?" Emir asks, smiling encouragingly at me.

I clear my throat again, speaking up so that everyone can hear me. "Viktor has been in Aurora for almost 20 years. And he's, what, 42? 43? If he killed his mate when he was 22..." I trail off, shaking my head. "That doesn't leave a whole lot of time for a crime spree, does it?"