The square was still.
Dylan remained kneeling, head bowed, hands open in surrender.
Beta Kingsley stood motionless.
The crowd watched, holding breath.
Finally, Kingsley stepped forward. His boots echoed on the stone.
He stopped in front of Dylan.
"You begged me to protect her," he said, voice low and gravel-edged. “And I failed."
Dylan looked up. His eyes were rimmed red. “Then take your justice."
Kingsley unsheathed a dagger.
Gasps swept through the onlookers.
He raised it—
—then turned it and slammed the hilt into the ground beside Dylan's feet.
“No," he said. “She wouldn't want that."
Dylan blinked, stunned.
Kingsley's voice cracked. “Sophie believed in peace. Even when this pack turned its back on her, she stayed. For them. For you."
He looked to the crowd.
“Let her sac
