When the Rejected Wolf Rules

The Alliance

Judge Cross's estate was smaller than Whitmore's.

Less guards. Less gold. More silence. The walls were covered in old books. The floors were worn from decades of footsteps. It felt like a place where secrets had been buried and never dug up.

"He's not expecting us," Whitmore said.

"That's the point."

We dismounted. Cross's door opened before we knocked.

A woman stood there. Grey hair. Sharp eyes. A scar across her cheek. She looked at Whitmore like she'd seen a ghost.

"Whitmore," she said. "You brought company."

"Judge Cross. This is Rhea Vennier. And Silas Draven."

Cross's gaze moved to me. It lingered. Her eyes widened slightly.

"You have her eyes," she said.

My chest tightened. "My mother's?"

"Your mother's." She stepped aside. "Come in. Before the snow buries you."

Inside, Cross's home was warm. Books everywhere. Papers stacked on every surface. A fire crackled in the hearth. She gestured for us to sit.

"Tea?"

"No," I said. "I'm not here for tea."

"Then why are you here?"

"You're a hybrid," Cross said to me.

I didn't flinch. "Yes."

"And you're the one who's been stirring up trouble in Lunaris City."

"I prefer 'causing necessary chaos.'"

Cross laughed. A dry, rasping sound.

"I like you already."

She sat behind her desk. Folded her hands. "What do you want?"

"Your testimony. Against the Moon Court. Against Theron Blackthorn."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why would I testify against my own colleagues?"

"Because they're corrupt. Because you know they're corrupt. Because you've been looking for a way out for years."

Her eyes narrowed. "Who told you that?"

"No one. I smelled it."

"SMELLED it?"

"Hybrid. I can smell lies. And everything you're not saying is screaming truth."

Cross looked at Whitmore.

"She's dangerous," Whitmore said.

"Yes. She is." Cross leaned back in her chair. "What do you have?"

I opened the box. Spread the files across her desk.

"Names. Dates. Bribes. Murders. Every crime the Court has committed in the last thirty years."

Cross read. Page after page. Her lips moved silently as she scanned each document. Her hands trembled slightly.

"This is... comprehensive."

"Your name isn't on it."

"Because I never took a bribe."

"But you knew about them."

"I knew. I just didn't have proof."

"Now you do."

Cross closed the last file. She stared at the cover for a long moment.

"What do you want from me?"

"Your vote. At the trial. When we bring the Court to justice, we need a majority. Whitmore is with us. That makes two. We need one more."

"Who's the third?"

"Maris Draven."

Cross's eyes widened. Her hand went to her chest.

"Maris is alive?"

"She's been hiding in the mountains for twenty years. Waiting for this moment."

Cross was quiet. The fire crackled.

"Your mother came to me once," she said softly. "Before she died."

My breath caught. "My mother?"

"She wanted the same thing you want. Justice. She had proof, but she didn't have enough names. She asked me to help her."

"Did you?"

Cross looked down at her hands. "I didn't. I was scared. The Court had already killed her friends. I didn't want to be next."

"And now?"

Cross looked at the files. At my face.

"Now I'm tired of being scared."

We spent the night at Cross's estate.

Silas watched the door. Whitmore slept in a guest room. Lena dozed by the fire.

I sat with Cross in the study.

"Tell me about my mother," I said.

She poured two glasses of whiskey. Pushed one toward me. I took it but didn't drink.

"What do you want to know?"

"How did she meet my father?"

Cross smiled. A sad smile. "She met Marco Vennier at a pack gathering. He was handsome. Charming. She was young. She fell for him."

"Did he love her?"

"He loved the idea of her. A beautiful hybrid who could smell lies. He thought she'd give him power."

"But she didn't?"

"She gave him a daughter. That was enough for her. It wasn't enough for him."

"Is that why he left?"

"He left because she started fighting back." Cross sipped her whiskey. "She wouldn't be controlled. She wouldn't be silent. When Theron came asking about her, Marco told him everything."

"He betrayed her."

Cross nodded slowly. "He was a coward. Just like Whitmore. Just like me."

She stared into the fire.

"When your mother died, I wanted to leave the Court. But I didn't know how. They had my family. My daughter. They threatened them if I spoke."

"You have a daughter?"

"Had. She died ten years ago. Car accident." She paused. "The Court's doing."

My stomach dropped. "Did you prove it?"

"No. But I know. I've always known."

"Then help me," I said. "Help me destroy them."

Cross looked at me. Her sharp eyes glistened.

"On one condition."

"What?"

"When the trial is over, you let me retire. Forever. No one comes looking for me. No one asks me to testify again. I disappear."

"Done."

"Then I'm with you."

The next morning, we returned to Maris's cabin.

Kael was waiting outside. His color was better. The black veins were almost gone. He stood straighter than when I'd left.

"You're back," he said.

"I told you I would be."

"You brought company."

"Two judges. Three if you count Maris."

He looked at Cross and Whitmore. His eyes widened.

"You turned them both?"

"I turned one. The other was already convinced."

Kael looked at me. His silver eyes burned with something I couldn't name.

"Rhea Vennier, the rejected wolf, who brings judges to their knees."

I smirked. "It's a talent."

Inside, Maris greeted Cross like an old friend. They embraced. Tears in both their eyes.

"Twenty years," Maris said.

"Twenty years too long."

Cross sat at the table. Whitmore sat beside her. Lena and Silas stood by the fire.

"We're all here," Maris said. "All three of us. The alliance is formed."

"Now what?" Lena asked.

"Now we set the date. The trial. We bring the files to the Moon Court and demand justice."

"When?"

"Three days."

Whitmore's face went pale. "That's not enough time."

Maris met his eyes. "Then we make it enough."

The next three days were chaos.

Maris and Cross wrote the legal arguments. Lena prepared the evidence. Silas organized security. I trained.

Kael trained with me. We sparred in the snow. His body was still weak, but his spirit was growing stronger.

"I can't believe you're doing this," he said.

"What? Training?"

"Forgiving me."

I dodged his swing. "I haven't forgiven you."

"Then why are you training with me?"

"Because you're useful. And because if I kill you, I'm killing myself."

He stopped. Looked at me.

"That's not the bond talking."

"Then what is it?"

He lunged. I sidestepped. He hit the snow.

"You tell me," he said, breathing hard.

I offered him my hand. He took it.

The bond flared between us.

"I'm not going to kiss you," I said.

"You keep saying that."

"Because you keep hoping."

He smiled. A real smile. "Maybe I'll stop hoping."

"When?"

"Never."

Two days before the trial, Theron's forces found us.

We were outside, preparing supplies. The first arrow came from nowhere—whistling past my ear, burying itself in the snow.

Kael pushed me to the ground.

"They're here!" Silas shouted.

Arrows flew. Wolves in human form charged from the trees. At least a dozen of them.

"Get to the cabin!" I screamed.

We ran. Cross was hit in the shoulder. Whitmore dragged her. I covered their retreat with a knife.

Inside, we barricaded the door.

"How did they find us?" Lena asked.

"One of the servants. Whitmore's or Cross's. It doesn't matter now."

"What do we do?"

"We fight."

We had weapons. Swords. Knives. A few bows.

Kael grabbed a sword. "Stay behind me."

"I'm not staying behind anyone."

"Rhea—"

"I've been fighting for three years. I'm not starting to hide now."

I grabbed a knife. The door splintered.

The battle lasted an hour.

I stabbed two wolves. Silas killed three. Kael protected Maris and Cross. Lena used a bow from the window.

Cross and Whitmore fought with surprising skill.

"We're judges," Whitmore said, swinging a sword at an attacker. "We know how to fight."

"You never told me," I said.

"You never asked."

Theron's men retreated. They left their dead behind.

"We need to move," Silas said. "They'll be back with reinforcements."

"Where do we go?"

"To the Moon Court. Tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Right now. If we wait, we're dead."

We packed what we could carry.

Cross was bleeding. Whitmore was limping. Maris was pale but steady.

Maris looked at me.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

I touched the black mark on my palm. It was almost gone.

"I've been ready for three years."

We left the cabin burning behind us.

---

We rode through the night. The moon was full. The snow had stopped.

The Moon Court's chambers were in an old fortress. In the middle of nowhere. Stone walls. Iron gates.

"They'll have guards," Kael said.

"So do we."

"How many?"

"Five judges. Six of us. That's a majority."

"They're not going to let this go to trial," Kael said.

I looked at him. "Then we make them."

We reached the fortress at sunrise.

Maris knocked. The door opened.

"Judge Draven," the guard said. "You're dead."

"I got better."

We walked inside.

The chambers were grand. High ceilings. Stone walls. A long table in the center.

Four judges sat at the table.

Three of them looked afraid.

One of them looked angry.

"Maris," Judge Vane's successor said. "You're not welcome here."

"I'm here to bring a case. Against Alpha Theron Blackthorn. For bribery, murder, and conspiracy to commit genocide."

"You have no authority."

"I have three votes. Mine. Whitmore's. And Cross's."

Vane's successor looked at Whitmore and Cross.

"You're betraying the Court?"

"We're saving it," Cross said.

The angry judge—Judge Vane's successor—stood up.

"This is outrageous."

"This is justice," I said.

I threw the files on the table.

"Read them. All of them. Or I'll make sure the entire shifter world reads them."

The judges looked at the files.

The room fell silent.

Vane's successor picked up the first page. Read it. His face went pale.

"Where did you get these?"

"Your vault," Maris said. "The one you thought was secure."

"This is—"

"This is the truth," I said. "And the truth always comes out."

The judges looked at each other.

One of them spoke. "What do you want?"

"Justice. A fair trial. Theron Blackthorn in chains."

Vane's successor sat down heavily.

"Three votes," he muttered. "You have three votes."

"Then it's settled," I said.

The angry judge slammed his hand on the table.

"Not so fast. This trial is illegal. This evidence is tainted. You—" He pointed at me. "You are a hybrid. You have no standing here."

"Then give me standing."

His eyes narrowed. "What?"

I stepped closer. "Grant me official status. As a representative of the hybrids. Then I have standing. And I can bring this case."

"That's—"

"That's the law," Maris said. "Any sentient being with a grievance can apply for standing. And you have to grant it."

The angry judge's face turned red.

I smiled.

"Looks like you're out of options."