Chapter 25

25

JUDGE AND JURY

Octavia

I wake up to the gentle warmth of Wyatt’s body beside me, his arm draped protectively around my shoulders. The sunlight filters through the curtains, casting soft patterns on the walls, and I feel a sense of tranquility that I haven’t felt in what seems like forever. His face is nestled in my wild bedhead hair, and he makes a low humming noise, sending warmth to spread through my body. It’s the kind of sound that makes my heart flutter, a melody of comfort and intimacy.

But then, just as I’m about to bask in the moment, Wyatt’s phone buzzes loudly on the nightstand, shattering our peaceful cocoon. It’s a jarring reminder of reality, and I can feel the tension rise as he groans and reaches for the device. I instinctively pull back, feeling the loss of his warmth as he squints at the screen.

“Damn it,” he mutters softly, his brow furrowing. “It’s Dalton. The council is arriving soon to deliberate Rachel’s fate.”

A knot twists in my stomach at the mention of Rachel’s name. Memories of the cabin — the darkness, the fear, my own screams — flash through my mind like a haunting specter. I spring out of bed, adrenaline kicking in. “We need to get ready!” I exclaim, rushing to the bathroom.

The mirror reflects the chaos of my hair, and I quickly splash water on my face, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. My heart races, not just from the urgency of the situation but from the overwhelming sense of dread that accompanies it. I can’t believe we’re about to face the consequences of Rachel’s actions. I can’t shake the feeling that whatever happens today will change everything.

Wyatt joins me a few moments later, his presence bringing a sense of calm to my frayed nerves. We move in a synchronized rhythm, brushing our teeth and getting dressed, the urgency of the moment pushing us forward. It’s strange how we can still find comfort in each other amidst the chaos.

Once we’re both ready, we make our way to the kitchen, hoping for a bit of normalcy in the midst of the storm. But as we step inside, we find Harrison — Wyatt’s Gamma — crunching on a piece of toast and drinking straight from the milk carton. Again. My nose crinkles in disgust.

“Ugh, Harrison! That milk belongs to you now,” I scold, crossing my arms. “And for the last time, stop drinking from the carton! It’s gross.”

Wyatt laughs, the sound lightening the tension in the air. “You’d think he’d have learned by now,” he says, shaking his head.

Harrison just smirks, unfazed by my admonishment. “You should be grateful I’m not eating your precious BooBerry cereal, Luna,” he retorts, finishing his toast with a flourish. He grabs his things and heads out, already hurrying to get ready for the meeting with the council.

Wyatt and I share a glance. There’s a sense of camaraderie here, a sibling-like relationship that has developed between Harrison and me, and it brings a smile to my face. As we settle at the kitchen table, I begin to make a simple breakfast of eggs and toast.

“I’m really glad to be home with you,” I say, breaking the silence as I crack the eggs into the pan. “I never want to go back to that cabin.” The memory of the dark, isolated place sends a chill through me, and I glance over at Wyatt, hoping to find reassurance in his eyes.

He stands up and walks over, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “I’m glad too,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to my temple. “You’re safe now, baby girl, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

His words fill me with warmth, but the reality of what lies ahead looms over us. I turn to face him, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt. “What if they decide to let her go?” I ask, my voice quaking slightly. “What if she gets out and comes after us again?”

Wyatt’s expression hardens. “She won’t. Not if I have anything to say about it.” There’s a fierce determination in his voice, and I can’t help but feel a rush of gratitude. He’s willing to fight for me, to protect me, and that means everything.

After we finish breakfast, the four of us — Wyatt, Harrison, Dalton and me — head towards the cells where Rachel is being held. The air grows heavier with every step, the anticipation mingling with dread in the pit of my stomach. I know what’s at stake. The council will decide whether Rachel deserves to be imprisoned or face a death sentence. A part of me knows that the latter would be justified. After everything she put me through, after all the pain she caused, I can’t help but think that she may never be okay to be let out of a cell.

As we approach the interrogation room, the sounds of muffled screams echo through the hallway. My heart races, a visceral reminder of the madness I heard at night while trapped in that cabin. I know that voice. It’s Rachel’s — a symphony of chaos and despair, and I can feel the walls closing in around me.

“What’s happening?” I whisper, my breath hitching in my throat.

Wyatt squeezes my hand, grounding me. “It’s just a show. The council wants to see her broken before they make their decision. They need to understand the risk she poses.”

I nod, though my heart feels heavy. I can’t shake the feeling that this is just the beginning of something darker. The council’s deliberation is not just about Rachel; it’s about power, control, and the choices we must make to protect our pack.

As we step into the room, I catch sight of the council members seated around a long table, their expressions grim. The air is thick with tension, and I can sense the weight of their authority. They’re the guardians of our world, but they also hold the power to decide someone’s fate.

Rachel is brought in, her hair disheveled, her blue eyes wild and frenzied. She looks like a shadow of the person I once knew, and I can’t help but feel a flicker of pity for her, even amidst my anger. Yet I remind myself of the terror she inflicted upon me, the fear that lingers in my mind.

As the council begins their questioning, I take a deep breath, preparing myself for whatever comes next. The stakes are high, and my heart beats in sync with the tension in the room. I glance at Wyatt, who stands beside me, steadfast and strong. Whatever happens today, we will face it together, and I know that I’m not alone.

The deliberation begins, and the council members voice their opinions, weighing the evidence against Rachel. Each word feels like a dagger aimed at my heart. They discuss her actions, her motivations, and the safety of our pack. I can feel the weight of their judgment hanging in the air, and I’m reminded of how fragile our lives can be.

Through it all, I can’t help but think of the future. Will I ever feel safe again? Will we be able to move past this? I watch as the council debates, their voices rising and falling like a storm, each moment a reminder of the chaos that once enveloped my life.

As the deliberation continues, the screams from Rachel echo in my mind, a haunting reminder of how close I came to losing everything. I can feel my heart pounding, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. Whatever happens next, I know this is just the beginning of a new chapter in our lives — a chapter filled with uncertainty, but also with hope.

And as I stand beside Wyatt, I realize that no matter what fate awaits Rachel, I have found my strength within myself, and together, we will face whatever comes our way. I am a survivor.