THE ALPHA'S REJECTED MATE ( I have a baby for him)

Part 31

ARLO

The iron shackles bit into my wrists, but I felt no pain. The weight of the metal, the humiliation of being dragged through the streets of Aziel's pack like a common criminal—it was all beneath me. I had been careful, meticulous even. But in the end, it hadn't been enough. They had caught me. They had humiliated me.

But even now, as I stood in this wretched courtroom, surrounded by those who once bowed in deference to me, I refused to show weakness. My face was a mask of cold indifference, my eyes hard and unyielding. The fool Aziel sat there, his expression as stony as mine. But I could see it—the slight tremor in his hands, the tightening of his jaw. He was close to breaking, and that knowledge gave me a sick sense of satisfaction. He was supposed to be the strongest of us all, yet here he was, barely holding himself together. 

Beside me, Constance trembled, her once radiant beauty now marred by fear and guilt. I didn't bother looking at her. She had been useful, yes,to an extent, but she was weak. Always had been. Her fear disgusted me. She had known the risks, the stakes. If she couldn't face the consequences, then she had no right to stand beside me.

The charges were read aloud by the chief pack warrior, his voice booming through the hall. Murder. Attempted murder. Treason. Kidnapping. Defamation. The words rang in my ears, but I felt nothing. These fools thought they could judge me? They thought they could condemn me for doing what was necessary? For trying to take what was rightfully mine? 

Aziel's grandfather was never meant to be Alpha, it was supposed to be my grandfather but Aziel's grandfather ended up being the Alpha instead of the rightful heir, my grandfather. Aziel's grandfather pitied my grandfather and made him his beta, despite everything he had done. Aziel's father was selfish to remain Alpha. 

Witness after witness took the stand, their voices blending into a monotonous drone. They spoke of the murders I had committed, the lies I had spread, the lives I had destroyed. They painted me as a monster, but they didn't understand. They never would. I had done what needed to be done. Cara's death, Lyon's death, even the attempt on Alora's brat—none of it mattered. They were collateral damage, pawns in a game too complex for these simple-minded fools to comprehend.

But when the council member, Patricia, called for me to speak, I knew there was no point in denying it. The evidence was overwhelming, and in the end, what did it matter? My fate was sealed, whether I confessed or not. So I spoke, my voice steady and cold as I recounted the murders. Cara's sweet face flashed in my mind as I had cut the brakes of their car. Father, that old fool, was weak till I suffocated him on his death bed. 

Constance, her voice breaking, admitted to her part in the crimes as well. I felt nothing as she confessed to defaming Alora, to kidnapping the brat then to killing the nanny and ordering a guard to put the child in a container till he takes his last breath. She was sobbing now, but I didn't care. She had been useful, as a mate should be, and now she was done.

One of the council members stood, his voice grave as he delivered the sentence. Death by beheading. The crowd murmured in agreement, their anger and sense of justice mingling with the sadness of the day's events. I glanced over at Waylen, my so-called brother, and saw the hatred and sadness in his eyes. He looked at me like I was a stranger, like he had never known me at all. I smirked. Let him hate me. He was weak, just like the rest of them. 

Aziel's expression didn't change, but I could see the cracks forming in his carefully constructed facade. He was close to breaking, and the thought gave me a twisted sense of satisfaction. I had taken everything from him, everything that mattered. He would live with that for the rest of his miserable life.

We were led from the courtroom, the crowd lining the route in silence. They watched as we made our final journey, their eyes filled with a mixture of anger, sorrow, and relief. I kept my head held high, my expression unreadable. I would not give them the satisfaction of seeing my fear, my regret. Constance stumbled beside me, tears streaming down her face. She was pathetic, clinging to the last moments of her life as if they meant anything. We were already dead. The moment we were caught, our lives ended. This was just a formality.