The sound of iron keys clinking against the cell door pulled me out of my restless thoughts. My heart thudded in my chest, heavy and anxious. The guard’s voice was flat and cold as he said,

“Lyra, it is time. The trial has been set for today. Get up.”

I froze, gripping the corner of the hard wooden bench where I had spent the night. My hands trembled. Today… today they would decide my fate.

I swallowed hard, whispering more to myself than to him, “So soon?”

The guard didn’t bother to answer. He opened the door, and two more guards stepped in, their hands firm as they pulled me to my feet. My knees felt weak, but I forced myself to stand. My chains clinked against each other as they led me out of the dark, damp cell and into the light.

The air outside hit my face, and I blinked rapidly. The courtyard was filled with people already waiting. Their eyes turned to me immediately—judging, hating, whispering.

“There she is.”

“The thief.”

“Shame to her family.”

I winced at their words, even though I had already heard so many since this nightmare began. But this time was worse. Today, I was being dragged in front of the Elders, and my own pack would be there to watch.

The guards pulled me into the great hall, where the trial was to take place. The hall was wide and tall, with stone pillars standing like watchful giants on both sides. At the far end sat the circle of Elders, their faces stern and serious. Their robes were dark, embroidered with gold, marking their authority.

The Elder in the middle, Elder Hamel, stood as I was forced to kneel in front of them. His voice rang out deep and clear.

“Lyra of the Crescent Moon Pack, you have been brought before us today to stand trial for theft against your people. Do you understand the weight of this charge?”

My throat went dry, but I managed to whisper, “I do… but I didn’t do it.”

The hall erupted with murmurs. Some scoffed, others shook their heads. The Elder raised his hand, silencing them.

“You will have a chance to speak. But first, we will hear from your family.”

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. My family.

I turned my head slowly, and my eyes found them in the crowd. My father stood tall, his shoulders stiff, his face unreadable. Beside him was my older brother, Cael, his eyes cold, refusing to meet mine. My mother wasn’t there—I wasn’t surprised. She couldn’t even look at me after the accusation.

The Elder called, “Bring forward her father, Lord Darius.”

My father stepped into the circle. The sound of his boots echoed against the stone floor as he walked past me. He did not glance at me. He faced the Elders, bowing slightly.

“Lord Darius,” Elder Hamel began, “you are the father of the accused. Tell us what you know of this crime.”

My chest ached. I whispered, “Father…” but my voice was drowned by silence.

My father cleared his throat, his voice deep but steady. “I have raised Lyra in my household. I have taught her the ways of honesty and loyalty. But in recent months, I have noticed her becoming distant. Secretive. When the theft was discovered, the evidence pointed to her. I cannot deny what I have seen.”

His words cut into me like knives. I gasped, my eyes filling with tears. “Father, no! You know me! You know I would never steal!”

For the first time, his eyes flickered to mine. But instead of warmth, I saw only shame. “You brought this upon yourself, Lyra.”

The crowd murmured louder now. My whole body shook.

Elder Hamel nodded solemnly. “Thank you, Lord Darius. You may step back.”

I wanted to scream. I wanted to run to him and shake him until he admitted the truth—that I was innocent, that I was his daughter, and he knew me better than anyone. But I couldn’t move. Chains kept me in place.

Then the Elder spoke again. “Bring forward Cael, son of Darius.”

My brother stepped forward, his chin raised, his eyes sharp. My breath hitched. Maybe… maybe he would defend me. We grew up together. We shared secrets, dreams. Surely, he wouldn’t betray me.

“Cael,” Elder Hamel said, “you were close to your sister. What do you say about her character in this matter?”

Cael glanced at me, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw conflict in his eyes. But then he spoke, his words like daggers.

“Lyra… she has always been reckless. She ignores rules, goes where she isn’t supposed to, does things without thinking of the consequences. When I heard she was accused, I wasn’t surprised. She has brought shame to our family.”

Tears spilled down my cheeks uncontrollably. “Cael! How can you say that? You know me! You know I would never—never—do this!”

He avoided my eyes. “I only speak the truth.”

The hall roared with voices. Some shouted that I should be punished, others muttered about disgrace. The Elders raised their hands again to quiet them.

Elder Hamel turned his gaze to me. His eyes were piercing, like he could see right into my soul. “Lyra, you have heard the words of your father and brother. What do you say for yourself?”

I swallowed, my body shaking from head to toe. I wanted to scream, to collapse, to vanish from this world. But I forced myself to speak through my tears.

“I swear on my life, I am innocent! I didn’t steal anything! Please, believe me. My father… my brother… they are only afraid of shame. They are lying to protect themselves. But I am telling the truth. I would never betray my pack.”

My voice broke, and I fell to my knees fully, sobbing. “Please, don’t let me die for something I didn’t do.”

The Elders whispered among themselves. Their voices were low, serious. I couldn’t make out what they said, but the tension in the air was unbearable. The crowd shifted restlessly, waiting for the verdict.

Finally, Elder Hamel raised his hand once more. Silence fell across the hall. His expression was grim as he spoke the words that sealed my fate.

“After hearing the testimonies of her father, Lord Darius, and her brother, Cael, and after considering the weight of this crime against the pack, the Council of Elders has reached a decision.”

My heart raced. My breath came in short gasps.

“Lyra of the Crescent Moon Pack,” Elder Hamel declared, his voice echoing through the hall, “you are found guilty of theft. Your sentence will be death by hanging.”

The words struck me like a thunderbolt. The room spun around me. I gasped, shaking my head violently. “No! No, please! I didn’t do it! You can’t—please! I’m innocent!”

But no one moved. No one spoke for me. My father stood stiff as stone. My brother stared at the ground. The crowd only watched, some with pity, most with satisfaction.

I screamed, my voice raw with despair. “Please! I am innocent!”

But my words echoed uselessly in the great hall, fading into silence.

The guards pulled me to my feet, dragging me back toward the dark cell. My chains clinked with each step, but all I could hear were the Elder’s words replaying in my head.

Guilty.

Death by hanging.

I had been sentenced for a crime I didn’t commit, and the very people who should have stood by me—my father, my brother—had turned their backs.

Hot tears streamed down my face, and my heart shattered into pieces as I whispered to myself over and over again, “I’m innocent… I’m innocent…”

But it didn’t matter anymore.

Because the world had already decided I was guilty.