Page 44 of The Shadow Sanctum

I turn to the crowd.

“Brothers… Sisters… The Chief Elder and I are saddened to welcome you here today.” Not a single eye drifts to the sky as thunder booms so loud, I feel it beneath my feet. “Word travels fast in the Shadow Sanctum, so as you know, our brother Aiden committed a crime last night worthy of death. He aided the attempted escape of two of our prisoners, endangering our home, our livelihood, and our fellowship… Anyone who knows Aiden knows he was acting on my orders.”

Eyes pop. Heads turn. Murmurs rise above the storm.

“What are you doing?” Father hisses.

“Because I am his blood, my father has chosen to spare me,” I yell over the growing outrage. “Regardless of fairness or rightful wrath, he has proven himself to be a merciful leader.”

“Spare you?” a woman shouts.

Voices climb. A man toward the back bellows something unintelligible that several people grunt in agreement with. Meanwhile, Father boils beside me, too smart to contradict me. If one of us must be deemed a liar, it makes little sense that it would be me.

“And now the question stands… Should the mercy be extended to our brother, Aiden? A man who has given his sweat, blood, and flesh to the collective? Chief Elder has decided to forgive me. He knows I have righted my wrong, and I will never betray you again. He is uncertain if he can say the same for our brother, and so he asks you to decide.”

With a gust of courage, I meet Father’s vicious glare. Two months ago, it might’ve stopped me.

I gesture to the empty space in front of the platform. “Those who choose mercy, step forward. All voices will be heard. All voices will be counted.”

Aiden’s wife and children are, of course, the first. Another couple at the front who are Cultivators stomp forward as well, hands locked, heads up, eyes brave. Thorne steps forward and gives me a dutiful nod.

No one else is as quick. I scan the crowd as commotion erupts. One voice stands out among the rest. “They should both be hanged!”

A chorus of bellows rings out in agreement, but I focus my eyes on the front row. No one there will look at me. When another person steps forward, it looks physically painful. Slow.

Way too slow.

They’re scared.

“No harm will come to you if you speak out!” I’m not even sure if it’s true, but I know it’s important.

“Luna,” Aiden says behind me. A warning.

“Witch!” A voice yells as a rock is hurled onto the stage. I duck just in time, but it’s soon joined by two more.

“Demon!”

“Demon girl!”

Father steps out of the way. He watches with thin lips that show no eagerness to part.

Don’t be weak.

I force myself to still. A shoe hits me in the gut just before I can brace myself, my stomach lurching. As soon as I register the slump of my body, I snap tall.

“Regardless of your feelings for me, our brother’s life hangs in the balance of your⁠—”

Another shoe slams into my raised arm, making me slap myself in the mouth and stumble backward.

“Traitors!” someone yells.

“Trai-tors!” another chants.

Others join in until it’s at least three fourths of the crowd chanting. The people at the front, including Aiden’s family, are attacked, and only Thorne is there to fend off the mob.

“No.” I cringe with my arm blocking my face as objects fly at me. Every connection knocks me back a step until my heels hit the box Aiden stands on. I hop away from him so he doesn’t take the brunt of what misses me, but objects slap him just the same. He stumbles—body angling to helplessly protect himself.

They’re aiming for him.