Chapter 71 Secrets and Lies
The video had gained ten million views in three hours. By morning, #WhiteMoonPackScandal was trending worldwide, and protesters had joined the media circus at our borders. I stood in the medical wing, staring at the original test results from Rory's birth while Gregory explained what Stella had deliberately misconstrued.
"The genetic anomaly wasn't evidence of different paternity," Gregory said, pulling up his old research. "It was a mutation, likely caused by the trace amounts of the virus still in your system when you conceived. Rory's DNA is definitively Mason's, but she carries markers that are... unique."
"Unique how?" Rory asked. She'd been remarkably calm since the video dropped, but I could see the strain in her eyes.
"Your genetic structure is more adaptable than normal," Gregory explained. "It's why you've always been stronger and faster than typical for someone with your training level. Your body processes information differently, adapts to threats more quickly."
"So I'm a mutant?" she asked with forced lightness.
"You're evolved," Mason said firmly. "And you're my daughter. The tests prove it conclusively."
"But Stella's video doesn't show the conclusive parts," Thomas said, entering with a tablet full of social media responses. "She cherry-picked data, showed only the anomalies without context. And people are believing it because it confirms their existing biases about pack dynamics."
Through the window, I could see the crowds growing. Some carried signs supporting "the rightful Luna," others demanded transparency in pack leadership. The human media was having a field day with the scandal, and every hour brought new complications.
"Sir," a guard appeared at the door. "The Council representatives have arrived."
We'd been expecting this. The Council couldn't ignore such a public challenge to pack stability. In the conference room, we found three Council members waiting: Administrator Chen, a sharp-eyed woman who'd always been skeptical of integration; Marcus Volkov, whose son was among Stella's recruits; and surprisingly, Katherine Pierce, the newest and youngest Council member.
"This situation has become untenable," Chen began without preamble. "The human world is watching, waiting to see if we're the civilized beings we claim to be or the animals they fear."
"Stella Manning has made serious accusations," Volkov added, his bias barely concealed. "The Council requires proof of their falseness before the Luna Ceremony can proceed."
"The proof exists," Mason said. "The complete medical records, the full genetic analysis—"
"Which the public won't understand or believe," Chen interrupted. "Medical data can be interpreted multiple ways. What the Council needs is something more decisive."
"What did you have in mind?" I asked, though I suspected I wouldn't like the answer.
"A Trial of Truth," Pierce said quietly. "It hasn't been used in decades, but the old laws still stand. Any challenge to a Luna's legitimacy can be resolved through formal trial."
My blood chilled. The Trial of Truth was an archaic pack law, created in less civilized times. It involved three challenges—physical, mental, and social—with the challenger and challenged facing off directly.
"That's barbaric," Roman protested. "We've evolved past such things."
"Have we?" Chen asked. "Because from where I sit, it looks like we're about to have a pack war on live television. At least the Trial is contained, regulated, and most importantly, final. No one can dispute its outcome."
"Stella would have to agree to it," Thomas pointed out.
"She already has," Volkov said, producing a document. "She filed the formal challenge an hour ago. If Sage refuses, she forfeits her position by default."
It was a trap, perfectly laid. Refuse and look guilty. Accept and face someone who'd been training for this exact moment for months, possibly years.
"I need time to consider," I said.
"You have until sunset," Chen said. "The Trial, if accepted, would take place tomorrow at noon. Public viewing would be permitted—in fact, required. The world needs to see that we handle our disputes through law, not violence."
After they left, the room exploded in arguments. Mason wanted to refuse and handle Stella directly. Thomas pushed for legal maneuvering. Roman suggested we flee and regroup elsewhere. But through it all, I kept thinking about the crowds outside, the millions watching online, the future of integration hanging in the balance.
"I'll do it," I said quietly, and the room fell silent.
"Sage, no," Mason started.
"She's been planning this for months," I continued. "Training, preparing, gathering intelligence on my weaknesses. She thinks she knows everything about me."
"She does know everything about you," Thomas said. "She's had access to pack records, training logs, medical files—"
"She knows Sage Grey," I corrected. "The adopted daughter, the secretary, the woman who fell into this life by accident. But she doesn't know Sage Blackwood."
The room went still. I'd never used my birth name openly, never acknowledged that part of my heritage.
"My birth parents weren't just random victims of the Council," I said. "I've been doing research, quietly, for years. Marcus Blackwood was one of the most skilled fighters the packs had ever produced. Patricia Blackwood was a strategist who nearly brought down the old Council structure before they killed her."
"You've been training," Rory said, understanding dawning in her eyes. "All those morning runs, the late-night gym sessions you said were for stress—"
"I've been preparing," I confirmed. "Not for this specifically, but for the day when being Mason Grey's mate wouldn't be enough. When I'd have to prove I deserved to stand beside him."
Mason moved to me, his hands cupping my face. "You've never had to prove anything to me."
"I know," I said softly. "But I need to prove it to myself. And now, to everyone else."
The sunset deadline approached quickly. When I formally accepted the Trial of Truth, the reaction was immediate. Stella appeared on every major news outlet within minutes, her smile radiating confidence.
"I'm glad Sage has chosen to face the truth," she said to the cameras. "Tomorrow, the world will see who truly deserves to be River Pack's Luna."
The rules were simple, ancient, and brutal. Three challenges, each testing a different aspect of Luna worthiness. Physical combat, strategic thinking, and pack loyalty. The first to win two challenges would be declared the rightful Luna.
That night, as I prepared, unexpected visitors arrived. Carson and Leah, Miguel and Anna, and a dozen other Alpha pairs from allied packs.
"We came to offer our support," Carson said. "Not as allies but as friends."
"The Trial must be faced alone," I reminded them.
"The challenges, yes," Leah said. "But the preparation? That's where pack truly matters."
They stayed through the night, each offering advice, sharing techniques, revealing secrets of their own Trial experiences. By dawn, I'd learned more about pack dynamics and combat strategy than in all my previous years combined.
The arena—a hastily constructed platform in the center of White Moon Pack territory—was surrounded by thousands of spectators when noon arrived. Cameras from every major network focused on the platform where Stella and I stood facing each other.
She looked perfect—strong, confident, every inch the Luna she believed herself to be. She wore traditional combat attire, her hair pulled back in an elaborate braid that somehow looked both practical and elegant.
"You should have run," she said quietly, too low for the cameras to pick up. "I've trained with the best fighters from three continents. I've studied every move you've ever made. I know your weaknesses better than you do."
"We'll see," I replied.
Administrator Chen stepped forward, her voice amplified across the arena. "The Trial of Truth will now commence. First challenge: Combat. No weapons, no killing blows, victory by submission or incapacitation."
We took our positions. The crowd fell silent. Somewhere in that mass of faces, I knew Mason was watching, along with Rory, Roman, and everyone else who mattered to me. But I couldn't think about them now.
The bell rang.
Stella moved like lightning, her first strike aimed at my throat. I deflected, barely, muscle memory from thousands of hours of secret training taking over. She pressed her advantage, a flurry of strikes that drove me back toward the platform's edge.
The crowd gasped as I stumbled, seemingly off-balance. Stella's smile widened as she moved in for what she thought was the finishing blow.
Which was exactly what I wanted.
Using her momentum against her, I dropped and swept her legs. She hit the platform hard, the breath knocked from her lungs. Before she could recover, I had her in a submission hold my birth father had perfected—one that looked simple but was nearly impossible to break.
"Yield," I said.
She struggled, her strength impressive, but the hold was perfect. After thirty seconds that felt like hours, she tapped out.
"First challenge to Sage Grey," Chen announced, and the crowd erupted.
Stella stood slowly, her eyes now wary. She'd underestimated me, assumed the secretary-turned-mate couldn't really fight. She wouldn't make that mistake again.
"Second challenge: Strategy. Each contestant will be presented with the same pack crisis scenario. Best solution, as judged by the Council representatives, wins."
The scenario was complex—a multi-pack territory dispute complicated by human involvement and Council regulations. We had ten minutes to present our solutions.
Stella went first, outlining a response that was textbook perfect. She cited precedents, leveraged traditional laws, and presented a solution that would have worked perfectly fifty years ago.
When my turn came, I threw away tradition entirely.
"The scenario assumes the old paradigm," I said. "That packs must compete rather than collaborate. But what if, instead of fighting over territory, the disputing packs formed an alliance? Shared resources, integrated patrols, presented a united front to both human authorities and the Council?"
I outlined a radical restructuring that challenged every assumption in the scenario. It was risky, unconventional, and exactly the kind of thinking that had allowed River Pack to thrive under integration.
The Council representatives deliberated for less than a minute.
"Second challenge to Sage Grey," Pierce announced, and I saw something break in Stella's eyes.
She'd lost. Two out of three challenges were mine. But the Trial wasn't over—tradition demanded all three challenges be completed.
"Third challenge: Loyalty. Each contestant will face a test of pack bonds. The pack itself will choose."
This was the wild card. The pack would present us with identical situations and judge our responses. It could be anything, and Stella knew White Moon's traditions as well as I did.
Thomas stepped forward as the pack's chosen representative. "A pack member has betrayed sensitive information to enemies, endangering everyone. They claim they were coerced, their family threatened. How do you respond?"
Stella answered first, her res
ponse harsh but expected. "Betrayal is betrayal. The safety of the pack comes first. Exile at minimum, execution if the betrayal cost lives."
When my turn came, I thought of every difficult decision I'd watched Mason make, every moment when mercy and justice had to be balanced.
"I'd investigate the coercion," I said. "If the threats were real, the pack failed to protect that member's family. We share responsibility. Punishment might still be necessary, but so would be addressing our failure. And if the member came forward voluntarily, seeking help rather than hiding their mistake, that would matter."
The pack's response was immediate. Not through Thomas but through every member present, a rhythmic stomping that was the traditional sign of approval. Even some of Stella's recruits joined in, recognizing the wisdom of mercy tempered with justice.
"Third challenge to Sage Grey," Thomas announced. "The Trial of Truth is concluded."
But Stella wasn't done. As the crowd began celebrating, she pulled something from her pocket—a vial I recognized with horror.
"You think you've won?" she screamed. "You think taking my place as Luna means anything? I have the virus! The original strain Gregory created! One broken vial and every human here dies!"
The crowd panicked, people scrambling to escape. But before anyone could react, Rory appeared beside Stella, moving with that uncanny speed Gregory had mentioned. She didn't try to grab the vial—instead, she simply placed her hand over Stella's.
"That's not the virus," Rory said calmly. "It's colored water. I replaced the real vial three hours ago when you were preparing for the Trial."
Stella's face went white. "How did you—"
"Know?" Rory smiled. "Because I'm my mother's daughter. We've been watching you for months, Stella. Every recruit, every plan, every backup strategy. Did you really think we'd let you get this close with an actual bioweapon?"
The revelation destroyed what remained of Stella's composure. She collapsed to her knees, the fake vial rolling away harmlessly. Her recruits began melting away into the crowd, their leader's defeat absolute.
"Stella Manning," Mason said, stepping onto the platform. "You've challenged and lost. You've threatened pack and human alike. By rights, you should face exile or worse."
"But," I said, moving to stand beside him, "White Moon Pack believes in redemption. You'll be confined, evaluated, and if the pack psychologists deem it safe, given the chance to earn your place again. Not as Luna, never that, but as a pack member who lost her way and might find it again."
The mercy seemed to break her more than punishment would have. As guards led her away, she looked back once, and in her eyes I saw not hatred but something worse—understanding of what she'd thrown away.
"And now," Mason said, turning to face the crowd and cameras, "with the Trial concluded and the truth revealed, I have something to say."
He dropped to one knee, pulling out a ring that caught the light like captured starfire.
"Sage Blackwood Grey," he said, using both my names, acknowledging all of who I was. "You've been my mate, my partner, my equal in all things. Will you now be my Luna, officially and forever?"
The crowd held its breath. The cameras focused. The world watched.
"Yes," I said, my voice carrying across the arena. "Forever and always, yes."
As Mason slipped the ring on my finger and kissed me in front of thousands, I thought I heard, just for a moment, an echo of approval in the wind. Patricia and Marcus Blackwood's daughter had found her place, not through birthright or deception but through choice and determination.
But even in that moment of triumph, I noticed something that chilled my blood. Among the celebrating crowd, a figure stood motionless, watching with eyes that held terrible knowledge. When our gazes met, he smiled and mouthed a single word:
"Soon."
Then he vanished into the crowd, leaving me with the certainty that while we'd won this battle, a greater war was just beginning.