Chapter 3

Wynter POV: Elara slowly leaned back into her carved wooden chair. She crossed her arms over her silk dress. A cold, mocking smile appeared on her face. "How much did Wynter pay you?" Elara asked, her voice full of poison. "Did she give you the magic crystals she stole from us to make up this disgusting story?" Kael stopped fighting his chains. He stood perfectly still. "You really do not know, do you?" Kael said softly. The amusement was gone from his voice. Now, he just looked at Elara with pure pity. *"She didn't pay me a single coin. I took your perfect daughter's gold, yes. And do you know why? Because I hid in the trees and watched the whole bloody show. There is nothing I enjoy more than watching you so-called 'noble' wolves tear your own flesh and blood apart for power. It was the best entertainment I've had in years."* *He leaned forward, the yellow of his eyes burning like embers.* "You chopped your own daughter into pieces, and you do not even know it." Elara's face turned red with anger. "Silence, you filthy animal!" Kael turned to face the Chief Judge. "Send your high-ranking Warriors to the Sunless Forest," Kael challenged, his voice ringing loud and clear. "Go to the exile lands. See if the wild beasts have finished eating her bones." I floated in the air, feeling a cold wind blow through my spirit. The Sunless Forest. It was a place where the sun never fully reached the ground. It was damp, dark, and filled with the smell of rotting leaves. It was where the pack sent the broken ones. The exiled. The unwanted. I remembered waking up there after being thrown out. I was bleeding and starving. I had fainted in the mud. When I opened my eyes, a group of dirty, skinny orphan pups were sharing their only muddy puddle of water with me. I found my reason to live in those pups. I taught them how to hunt small mice. I taught them how to hide from the cold wind. And that was where I died. The Chief Judge nodded slowly. "We will find the truth. The Tribunal will travel to the Sunless Forest." *The Chief Judge ordered Kael thrown into a heavily guarded iron cage-cart. "He will point out the exact location," the Judge declared.* *The journey was a long affair of bone-rattling travel through treacherous mountain passes.* I floated above a large Thestral carriage, *watching Elara through the thick glass of the cabin window. She did not sit, but paced the narrow confines, her irritation growing with every lurch and sway of the coach.* Thestrals were giant, dark horses that pulled the heavy wooden carriages of the Alphas. *When the procession finally halted*, the carriage stopped at the edge of the Sunless Forest. The ground was thick with black mud. Elara stepped out of the carriage. She wore heavy leather boots, but the mud still stained the edge of her expensive dress. She looked around with extreme disgust. A few small, dirty faces peeked out from behind the dead trees. They were the orphan pups. Elara marched forward. She reached out and grabbed a tiny boy by the ear. "You," Elara demanded roughly. "Where is Wynter hiding? Tell her to come out and stop this stupid game." The little boy looked up at her. His eyes were wide with terror. Then, he opened his mouth and let out a long, heartbreaking sound. *Awoooooo.* It was a howl. In our world, a howl was our most sacred expression. It was a song to the Moon Goddess. We only howled like that to mourn the dead. "Sister Wynter is gone!" the pup cried, heavy tears washing the dirt off his cheeks. "She is dead! Please, Alpha lords, please get revenge for our protector!" My soul drifted down and wrapped my arms around the little boy. I wanted to hold him, to tell him I was okay, but I was just empty air. More tears fell from my spirit eyes. Elara let go of the boy's ear. She took a step back, her face unreadable. She wiped her hand on her dress, as if the boy's tears were dirty. Behind them, the Warriors held up small, portable Moon Goddess's Mirrors. The whole continent was still watching. The crystal network was divided. "That pup is really crying," a voice from a distant pack said through the crystal. "I was a Rogue once. You cannot fake that kind of pain." "Nonsense," another voice argued. "Wynter probably bought them toys to put on a show." *A sharp crack of a breaking twig sounded from behind the withered trees. From the shadows emerged dozens of wolves.* They were missing legs, missing eyes. They were old Omegas whose fur had turned gray and fallen out. They were the absolute bottom of our world. They all dropped to their knees in the cold mud in front of the Tribunal Warriors. "Wynter saved us," an old, blind Omega croaked, pressing his forehead to the dirt. "Winter was coming. We had no blankets. She walked to the black market in the human towns." The old man choked on a sob. "She sold her own blood to the dark witches, just to buy us animal furs so we would not freeze to death." *The light from the Moon Goddess's Mirror seemed to dim, and the chattering voices from the network fell away into an unnerved hush.* Not a single message came through. I looked at the kneeling wolves. A warm feeling spread through my cold soul. I had no regrets. I did not shame my bloodline. I lived with honor, even in the mud. Elara stared at the kneeling crowd. Her jaw was tight. She let out a harsh, cold laugh. "She paid you all well, didn't she?" Elara sneered, her voice cutting through the damp air. "She sold her blood? What a dramatic lie." Elara turned to the Warriors. "Bring your shovels," Elara ordered, pointing deep into the forest. "Show me this fake grave. I will dig it up myself and prove she is alive."