William’s trial began the next morning. No delays. The council wanted transparency—public proceedings, full documentation, complete accountability.
Sera sat in the front row with Marcus. Watched William take the stand.
“State your name for the record,” the prosecutor said.
“William. Called the Watcher. Three hundred forty-seven years old. Guilty of every charge you’ll present.”
The admission shocked the courtroom into silence.
“You’re confessing?”
“I’m accepting the consequences. I orchestrated Catherine Blackwood’s murder. Manipulated pack leadership for centuries. Killed forty-seven wolves personally. Enabled the network’s operations. I did it all. I don’t contest any of it.”
The prosecutor presented evidence anyway—documents, deaths, conspiracy timelines spanning three centuries.
