Chapter 9
782 Words
The day of the trial crept onto Lyra like a shadow. The courtyard of the pack was transformed into an arena. Torches burned high, their flames snapping in the night wind. The entire pack was gathered, faces hard, voices hushed. In the center, shackled and barefoot, stood Lyra. The iron collar dug into her throat, cold against her skin.
The Shadow Council’s envoy stepped forward. His face was hidden beneath a hood, his voice a chilling monotone.
“The accused will be tested,” he declared. “The goddess will decide if her blood is guilty.”
The crowd murmured. Some eager. Some fearful. All eyes burned into Lyra.
Miriam raised her hand for silence. “If she is innocent, the goddess will shield her. If she is guilty, she will not survive the night.”
Rowan smirked from the front row. Reyna leaned forward, whispering loudly enough for others to hear. “The cursed daughter is finished.”
Lyra’s stomach twisted, but she raised her chin. She wouldn’t cry. Not here.
Two warriors dragged her toward the pool carved into the stone courtyard. The water was black, reflecting the red flames of the torches.
“The innocent rise,” the envoy intoned. “The guilty sink.”
Chains were fastened to her wrists. Without warning, they shoved her into the water.
Cold swallowed her whole.
Lyra thrashed, lungs burning as the iron dragged her deeper. She looked upward through the murky water, faces blurred above, firelight shimmering like distant stars. No one moved to help.
This isn’t fair… I didn’t kill them…
Her chest screamed for air. She kicked, clawed upward, but the chains dragged her down. Darkness crept in at the edges of her vision.
The guilty sink.
And then her body rose. Slowly, impossibly, the chains loosened. The water seemed to push her up, buoying her toward the surface. Her head broke free with a gasp. She coughed, choking, hair plastered to her face.
The crowd erupted. Some gasped in awe. Others growled in anger. Rowan spat. “Trickery!”
But the envoy raised a hand. “The first trial does not condemn her.”
They dragged her from the pool and stripped her wet clothes from her shoulders, leaving her shivering in the cold. A brazier was brought forward, flames roaring.
“The innocent feel no burn,” the envoy declared. “The guilty are consumed.”
Her hands were seized and thrust over the flames. Heat scorched her palms. She bit down on a cry, her teeth grinding together as the fire licked at her skin.
“Do you confess?” Miriam’s voice sliced through the night.
Lyra shook her head, tears burning her eyes. “I did not kill them.”
The fire roared higher. Her skin blistered, but she refused to scream. She bit her lip until blood filled her mouth.
Suddenly the fire flickered. Died down. Her palms were red and raw, but not charred. The brazier hissed as if doused by unseen water.
A shiver ran through the crowd.
“The flame has spoken,” the envoy said.
The final test was the worst.
They painted a circle on the stone with the blood of a freshly slain deer. Lyra was shoved inside, her collar clinking as she stumbled. Warriors lined the edge with drawn blades.
“The innocent remain untouched,” the envoy intoned. “The guilty… will bleed.”
A silence fell. Then wolves stepped forward. Snarling, frothing, their eyes fixed on Lyra.
She backed away until her shoulders hit the edge of the circle. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it would tear through her chest.
The first wolf lunged.
Lyra screamed then froze.
The wolf stopped an inch from her throat. It snarled, teeth snapping, but an invisible force seemed to hold it back. Another wolf lunged, then another. Each time, they were flung back, as if something unseen stood between her and them.
Gasps filled the courtyard.
“She’s protected.”
“No… she’s cursed!”
“The goddess herself shields her!”
Lyra’s knees gave out. She collapsed to the stone, trembling, sobbing as the wolves howled around her.
The envoy’s voice cut through the chaos.
“The girl is cleared. She carries no guilt for the deaths of the Alpha and Luna. The goddess does not condemn her.”
The wolves were dragged back. The blood circle washed away. Lyra was hauled to her feet, her body shaking, throat raw.
But as she looked around the courtyard, she saw no forgiveness. Only suspicion. Only hatred.
Rowan’s glare burned into her. Miriam’s jaw was clenched. Reyna’s lip curled in disgust.
Vindicated or not… nothing had changed.
- Writer
