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The lies fell from his mouth like melted butter. I wanted to laugh at the ridiculous tale he weaved, painting me as an evil mastermind, controlling the sub-demons while he heroically took out as many as possible.
What a crock of shit.
Fane unfurled my fist trapped beneath his hand, his jaw tightening when he saw the speckles of blood spotting my palm from my nails. He gently rubbed his thumb over the wounds and wiped my blood on his jeans.
“At some point, the agrigons turned on Tate, and she eventually fought back just to save herself.” Dorian dragged his hand through his hair, his chest heaving. “There were too many of them.”
Marissa stroked his arm to comfort him while she sent a cruel smile toward Fane.
My teeth clenched. I wanted to murder her. Slowly.
“A high and a royal demon showed up and attacked Tate while most of the remaining sub-demons retreated to the trees. She looked like she could handle them, and honestly, she wasn’t my priority. The pack was.” Dorian leaned forward and pressed his hands on the table as he stared at each member. “And then she left.”
Fane’s nostrils flared, and fury pulsated off him. He’d witnessed what those demons did to me, and I would have died if I hadn’t tapped into the Infernal Sol. Dorian could have helped me, and Fane knew this.
The beta jerked his chin toward the woman sporting a sour expression next to him. “You saw me when you arrived, didn’t you, Amelia? And Tate wasn’t there.”
The woman, Amelia, gave a curt nod. “You were there, and the girl was most certainly not.” Her deep, husky voice matched her harsh demeanor.
Murmurs rippled around the room as the other wolves debated Dorian’s tale. Torrence whispered to Julia, and her auburn waves drifted around her shoulders as she shook her head.
Ephraim lifted his hand, quieting them. “Tate didn’t just leave the area. She barely made it to my house and collapsed from her wounds shortly after telling us about the sub-demons. I sent Preston to help.”
Dorian nodded. “Yes, I saw Preston arrive.”
The prick clearly hid until the worst was over and then slinked back to pretend he’d been there the entire time.
“Tate isn’t part of our pack,” Torrance said, his dark skin gleaming under the overhead lights, revealing a few scars mottling his neck and arms. “We should take our beta’s words over hers.”
Whispers of agreement coiled through the room, elevating my pulse. I felt like an animal trapped in a cage, predators circling it and getting closer with every passing second. My lungs constricted until it was hard to breathe.
Amelia placed her hands on the table, lines carving into her hard face as she sneered in my direction. “She should be held accountable for the deaths of those wolves.”
Blood thundered in my ears. Weren’t they even giving me a chance to tell my side of the story? Did that not matter at all?
I was tossed back into my days in foster care, trying to explain to a social worker that I wasn’t guilty of whatever horrendous thing the adults accused me of. They didn’t believe me of course. They didn’t believe me when I told them about the bad things happening, either. So I stopped telling them. What was the point?
Here I was again, confronted with the same bias, and these wolves could order my death.
Torrance turned to Camus. “We should have a vote on her punishment. It only seems right.”
ChapterThirty-Nine
The second Torranceuttered the word punishment, Fane shot to his feet, snatched his chair, and hurled it against the opposite wall. Cracks erupted in the maple wainscoting as the chair's wooden frame splintered into a thousand pieces. Everyone at the table froze as he stomped across the room, a vicious snarl expelling from his mouth.
My heart leaped in my throat at his sudden violent display, and my body rooted to the spot as he slammed his hands on the vacant end of the table. His talons dug into the wood, and he leaned forward, giving another sinister growl.
“If you think you will punish Tate for anything, you’re mistaken.” Fane’s voice, so low it rattled my chest, slithered out like a tangible threat against the council members. Each of his words became daggers poised to slaughter any of them.
Ephraim lifted his palms. “No one’s going to harm her, Fane.”
The demon shifter turned his attention to the alpha. “I’d like you to tell your pack that, Camus.”
Marissa jumped to her feet, her nostrils flaring. “You can’t just make demands here, Fane. You’re not even part of this pack. You have no say in—”
The door crashed open, and a healer helped a limping figure into the room. Dorian’s face blanched as he recognized the female shifter.
“Mina?” Camus motioned for someone to get her a chair.
