The Luna They Branded a Traitor

Chapter 3: The Only Kind Face

The claws never touched me.

A hand closed around the warrior's wrist faster than I could see, halting the blow in midair, inches away from my throat.

I pulled away expecting pain, but nothing happened, and I looked up to see who'd caught him.

There I saw Elder Malrik towering over me, his silver hair glinting in the moonlight, his grip firm on the warrior’s arm, his face without anger.

"That's enough," Malrik said. His voice was calm, almost soothing, the kind of voice you'd use to comfort a scared child.

"Not in this courtyard tonight; there will not be any killing."

"Traitor!"

The warrior growled at me, claws still unsheathed, straining in Malrik's grip.

"She should die for what she did."

“Maybe she does,” Malrik said, and a chill went through me at the casual way he said it.

“But not like this. Not without a fair trial. "Not without discipline."

He let go of the warrior's wrist and stepped between him and me, his back to the crowd, his eyes meeting mine for the first time.

His face was lined with age but soft in a way that made you want to trust him instantly, the way you trust your own grandfather.

He moved close up towards me. "Are you hurt, little one?" he asked.

I was unable to answer because I was still in shock from the broken bond, my parents turning their backs, and Lyanna's silence; all of it left me still shaking all over. I just stared at him, waiting to understand what trap this was, for nothing kind had happened to me tonight, and I no longer knew how to recognize it.

"She didn't admit to anything," shouted a man in the crowd.

“Let him finish what he started," another said.

"Would you condemn a wolf to death just by looking at a single parchment?” Malrik turned to face them, his voice carrying weight without ever needing to raise it, the way true authority always did.

“I’ve served this pack and the High Council for forty years. I have seen the results of fear moving faster than truth. I'm asking you in the name of honor of the pack, not for her sake, to see that justice is properly served.”

"What honor is there in guarding a murderer?” the same warrior shot back, though he had lowered his claws.

"Nothing," said Malrik. Which is why, if she's guilty, the council will see that she's punished properly, in front of witnesses, with evidence that cannot be questioned afterward. Isn't that worth more to you than shedding blood in anger tonight?"

Nobody answered him. The crowd shifted restlessly, but no one else pushed in.

Malrik had accomplished in ten seconds what I could not achieve with all my pleading. He had brought them to a stand.

“She has already been turned down,” Cassian said, though his voice was not so hot this time.

"She's been branded a traitor before the whole pack,” Cassian added.

"Rejection's punishment is enough for tonight. Let her escape these borders alive. Let the High Council decide what else there is to decide, if there is anything," Malrik said.

I looked again, searching the crowd for Lyanna, and saw her still standing at the very edge of it, arms wrapped around herself now, with tears streaming down her face.

Our eyes met again, and this time she took one small step forward, as if finally she intended to come to me.

But suddenly, someone beside her grabbed her arm and pulled her backwards.

"Don't be stupid!" I heard the woman hiss at her. "You want to get branded too?"

Lyanna's step forward hesitated where it was. She looked at me once more, her mouth shaping words she could not bring herself to utter, and then she looked away.

I saw Ryker standing at the edge of the crowd, his face white, his hands still clenched into fists at his sides.

He glanced at me, and something raw and unreadable flickered across his face, but then Malrik walked over to him and drew him a few steps away, close enough for me to still see them, too far for me to hear more than snatches borne on the wind... "Can't let doubt make you weak in front of them.” I heard Malrik say,

"An Alpha who hesitates invites his pack to doubt him."

“I saw her face, Elder.” Ryker’s voice was low and strained. I have known that face since we were kids. It didn't look like a face that lied to me."

"Guilt has many faces," said Malrik softly. Sometimes it wears the one you love the most. That is why it is so dangerous."

"Then how do I know I did the right thing tonight?"

"You didn't act from feeling," Malrik replied to him. You acted based on evidence. That is what makes a real Alpha, not a boy ruled by his heart. It hurts you, I know, but the parchment does not lie. Evidence doesn’t care who it hurts. You did the right thing tonight, even if it didn’t seem right.”

Ryker's shoulders sagged a little, some of the doubt leaking out of him and something harder taking its place.

I did not understand what I was seeing then. I only saw a wise old Elder comforting a broken young Alpha, as any good Elder would.

A moment later, Malrik's expression softened again with warmth, and no hint of whatever had passed between him and Ryker.

“Can you stand?' he said to me.

"I don't know," I whispered truthfully. My whole body still felt like it belonged to somebody else.

He held out his hand. I looked at it for a long time with uncertainty in my mind because every hand that had been offered to me tonight had either hit me or drawn back.

But his was steady, patient, and waiting. I took it slowly as he helped me to my feet with more care than I expected from someone so respected and so powerful in his own right.

Cassian stepped forward, his voice dropping to a careful whisper. "Elder Malrik. The Council will be asking why she was allowed to walk free tonight.”

"Tell them an old man asked for patience," Malrik said simply.

"Tell them the truth will still be there tomorrow, whether she runs or whether she doesn't."

“And if she runs away and doesn't come back?" Cassian asked.

“Then she'll spend her life looking over her shoulder," said Malrik, “which is its own kind of punishment, is it not?”

Cassian said nothing to that, although his eyes were narrowed, unconvinced, but unwilling to argue further with an Elder of Malrik's standing.

He looked back at me, and for a moment his eyes scanned my face like someone looking over a puzzle they already know the answer to, though I couldn’t have named the feeling if I’d tried.

"Go now, child," Malrik said gently.

“Be gone before the sun rises.”

"Get across the border before somebody changes his mind about tonight's mercy.”

"Why are you helping me?" I asked. My voice cracked on the question, with half hope, half suspicion, because nothing about tonight had earned my trust, not even kindness wrapped in a soft voice.

Malrik smiled. It was the softest, saddest smile I'd ever seen on an old man's face.

"Because somebody has to," he said. 'Even traitors deserve to see one friendly face before the world turns against them completely.'

Then he leaned in, so close that only I could hear him, his voice dropping to something almost tender, almost like a secret shared between old friends.

“All that's happened here tonight," he said quietly, "has been a long time coming.”

I nodded thankfully, thinking every word meant only comfort. Thinking it meant only that fate was cruel and unavoidable and none of it was really anybody's fault.

Then, I did not understand why his words settled in my chest like a stone dropped in still water, sending out ripples of something I could not name.

All I knew as I turned and headed for the gates of the courtyard, with just the ripped dress on my back, was that Elder Malrik was the only man in the whole Crescent Moon Pack who had ever looked at me like I was still human.

Little did I know that his kindness was the most dangerous thing I’d ever touch.