Chapter 23 Alpha's Judgment

Chapter 23 Alpha's Judgment


Luceila's POV

Eight o'clock arrives too quickly.

I've changed clothes three times, trying to find something that strikes the right balance between respectful and not trying too hard. I settle on dark jeans and a simple sweater, nothing that screams "please don't let your pack execute me."

Mom got home an hour ago. The brothers told her there was a family meeting. She's  pacing the living room ever since, casting worried glances toward the stairs where I've been hiding.

"Luceila?" Her voice drifts up. "Sweetheart, Dorian's here."

My hands shake as I grip the railing. This is it. No more delays, no more preparation. Just me, the truth, and an alpha who might decide I'm too much of a liability to protect.

I descend the stairs slowly. The brothers are already gathered in the living room, standing in what I'm starting to recognize as a protective formation—Reis closest to the door, Silas by the window, Ruan near Mom.

And there, standing by the fireplace with the bearing of someone who's never questioned his authority, is Dorian Shadowmere.

He's taller than I remember from the wedding—or maybe I was just trying not to look at him then. Dark hair threaded with silver, sharp features that his sons inherited, and eyes that assess me with an intensity that makes my wolf stir nervously.

"Luceila." His voice is deep, measured. "It's good to finally have a proper conversation. Your mother tells me you've been avoiding me."

"I've been... adjusting," I manage.

"To live in my house, or to be a wolf?" There's no judgment in the question, just genuine curiosity.

"Both."

He nods, gesturing to the couch. "Sit. My sons tell me we have much to discuss."

I sit, acutely aware of how everyone else remains standing. Mom settles beside me, taking my hand. Her palm is sweaty with nerves.

"Reis," Dorian says simply.

Reis steps forward, and I realize he's been chosen as spokesperson. "Father, we have a situation. One that involves Luceila, the Blackwood pack, and potentially the Council."

Dorian's expression doesn't change, but something shifts in the room's energy. "Continue."

Reis does, laying out everything, my emergence, the test results showing dormant wolf heritage, Sera's visit and overheard threats, Marcus's revelations about my biological father being accused of murdering an alpha's mate.

Through it all, Dorian listens without interrupting, his gaze occasionally flicking to me as if measuring my reactions.

When Reis finishes, silence stretches for several long moments.

"So," Dorian says finally, "the Blackwoods believe they've found the daughter of Mira's killer. And they're planning to use that connection to either destroy or claim you."

"That's our assessment," Silas confirms.

"And this Marcus Chen, you trust his information?"

"He was credible," I said, finding my voice. "He knew details about my father that... that felt true."

Dorian's attention fixes fully on me, and I understand why people call him Alpha. It's not just the title,vit's the weight of his presence, the certainty that he could break me without effort if he chose to.

"Did he tell you your father's name?" Dorian asks.

"No. He said it wasn't safe yet. That I needed to understand the situation first."

"Convenient." Dorian moves to the window, looking out at the darkening sky. "Sisilya, did you know what Luceila's father was?"

Mom's hand tightens on mine. "I suspected. There were signs—things that didn't make sense for a human. But he never confirmed it, and I never pushed. When he left..." Her voice breaks slightly. "When he left, I thought it was better not to know. Safer for Luceila."

"Safer," Dorian repeats. "Tell me, did he leave before or after Luceila was born?"

"Before."

"And you never heard from him again?"

"Never."

Dorian turns back to us. "Then he knew. He knew the Blackwoods were closing in, knew his daughter would be born into danger, and he ran anyway."

The condemnation in those words makes my chest tighten. "Or he ran to lead them away from us. To protect us by making sure they couldn't find us through him."

"Perhaps." Dorian doesn't sound convinced. "Regardless, the situation remains. Sera Blackwood suspects your heritage. She'll be gathering evidence, building a case. Once she has enough, she'll bring formal accusations before the Council."

"And then what happens?" I ask.

"Then the Council investigates. If they find sufficient evidence that you are indeed the daughter of Mira Blackwood's killer, they'll issue a judgment." Dorian's gaze is steady on mine. "The likely outcomes are execution, exile, or blood debt."

The words hit like physical blows. Mom makes a small sound of distress.

"Blood debt?" Ruan asks.

"The Blackwoods could claim her as property," Dorian explains. "Essentially slavery, serving their pack until the debt is considered paid. It's archaic, rarely invoked, but technically still part of pack law for capital crimes."

"That's barbaric," Mom whispers.

"That's tradition." Dorian's tone is matter-of-fact. "Our laws are old, Sisilya. They don't always align with modern sensibilities."

"So what do we do?" Silas asks. "We can't just hand her over."

"No," Dorian agrees. "We can't. She emerged under my roof, which makes her pack by default until she chooses otherwise. I'm bound to protect her."

"But?" I prompt, hearing the unspoken qualifier.

"But my position on the Council complicates matters. If formal accusations are made, I'll have to recuse myself from any judgment. And the other Council members won't have the same... incentive to rule in your favor."

"You mean they'll execute me to appease the Blackwoods," I say flatly.

"I mean they'll follow the law as it's written. If the evidence supports the Blackwoods' claim, they'll rule accordingly."

"Then we need to prove my father was innocent," I say. "Or at least create reasonable doubt."

"That would be ideal," Dorian agrees. "But twenty-year-old cases are difficult to overturn. Evidence is lost, witnesses are dead or disappeared, and memories become unreliable."

"So I run," I say quietly. "Take Marcus's offer and disappear."

"No." The word comes from Reis, sharp and immediate. "Running makes you look guilty. It confirms everything Sera is trying to prove."

"Staying might get me killed," I counter.

"Staying gives us a chance to fight," Silas argues.

"Boys," Dorian's voice cuts through the rising tension. "Let Luceila think. This is ultimately her decision."

All eyes turn to me. Mom's hand trembles in mine. The brothers watch with varying expressions of concern and determination. And Alpha Dorian waits with the patience of someone who's made countless difficult decisions and knows they can't be rushed.

"If I stay," I say slowly, "what exactly would fighting look like?"

"We investigate," Dorian answers. "Discreetly. Find out what really happened twenty years ago. Locate witnesses, gather evidence, build a case for your father's innocence or at least insufficient proof of guilt."

"While Sera builds her case against me."

"Yes."

"And if you can't find enough evidence? If it comes down to her word against mine?"

"Then we prepare for trial," Dorian says. "And we hope the Council values proof over political pressure."

My life, my future, is reduced to hope.

"There's another consideration," Ruan adds quietly. "If you run and they catch you later and they will catch you eventually you'll have no defense. No pack backing, no legal standing. You'll be a rogue, and rogue law is even harsher than pack law."

"So either way, I'm trapped," I say.

"Either way, you're in danger," Dorian corrects. "The difference is whether you face that danger with support or alone."

I look at Mom, whose eyes are red with unshed tears. At the brothers, who despite everything have slowly shifted from suspects to something approaching allies. At Dorian, who I barely know but who holds my fate in his hands.

"If I stay," I say carefully, "I want full transparency. No more secrets about pack law, Council procedures, what I'm facing. I need to understand everything."

"Agreed," Dorian says immediately.

"And I want to help with the investigation. This is my life. I deserve to be part of finding the truth."

"That could be dangerous…" Silas starts.

"Everything is dangerous now," I interrupt. "At least let me be part of my own defense."

Dorian studies me for a long moment, then nods. "Very well. You'll be included in the investigation. But you follow our lead, accept our guidance, and if we say something is too risky, you listen. I won't have you throwing yourself into danger out of stubbornness."

"Deal."