Blessed By The Moon

Chapter 59

Echo's pov: 

I never thought I'd find myself in a courtroom again. 

Not since the Great Werewolf Tax Evasion of 1324, which, for the record, was a misunderstanding. You try explaining to a medieval accountant why half your income is in silver daggers confiscated from hunters.

But here I was again, standing in front of a mirror, adjusting the collar of the only blazer I owned that didn't have scorch marks or bloodstains. Storm was behind me, buttoning his shirt with all the enthusiasm of a man walking toward his own execution.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered. "A trial? For surviving an attempted poisoning? Maybe I should just kill everyone in the courtroom myself and be done with it."

"It's called due process," I said, fixing my hair. "You'd know that if you hadn't spent half your centuries solving problems with claws and fire."

He met my eyes in the reflection, mouth twitching. "And you'd know it's useless. The last time they put a werewolf on trial, it was in Salem, and the guy got burned for sneezing too loud. Your dad doing this the human way is such bullshit." 

I turned and jabbed a finger at his chest. "He's the Alpha of the pack, the pack hates us, we have an obviously winning case, this is just for appearances."

"Then I'll just kill myself and start over the next lifetime," he said, grinning , that infuriating, dangerous grin that got him out of more trouble than it should've. "Oh wait, I can't, this is our last one, guess I have no choice but to go for plan A."

"Storm-"

"Fine," he sighed. "No violence, I'm not losing you over that again, but if you change your mind then give me the green light."

.

The courthouse was packed.

At the prosecution table sat Leah and Jake's lawyer, a slick, silver-tongued werewolf named Mr. Alden Gray. He looked like he'd stepped straight out of a perfume ad, sharp suit, smug smirk, punchable face and a moral compass that probably spun like a ceiling fan.

Across from him sat our lawyer, Clara Fenn, an old oracle with spectacles perpetually sliding down her nose and a voice that could make alphas sit down and shut up.

Storm leaned over to me. "You think she can handle him?"

"Hell, I think she could handle you."

The judge, Alpha Elijah (and yes I am very mad at my dad right now, and so is my mom) banged his staff once, and silence rippled through the room.
"Court is in session. The charges, attempted murder, reckless endangerment, and destabilizing peace."

Storm muttered under his breath. "We destabilized peace by not dying?"

I elbowed him, but yeah basically.

Alden Gray stood, smooth as silk. 

"Your Honor, members of the court," he began, his voice honeyed and venomous all at once. "Tonight, we gather to discuss two individuals who, while charming in appearance, have proven time and again to be catastrophic to coexistence."

We're off to a good start.

He turned toward us, smiling politely, the kind of smile that said, I've rehearsed your obituary.

"Storm, an unregistered Alpha who's left a trail of corpses longer than the Lycan Age. And Echo, powerful, unpredictable, with a history of violent outbursts, only a bit over a month ago she destroyed a whole pack with a flick of her wrist. Together, they are a ticking bomb."