Chapter 331: A Thousand Years
Violet
The Supreme Alphas fared only slightly better. They stared hard at Zephyr, a mixture of alarm and tense caution on their faces.
Zephyr’s size aside, I was sure the markings on her fur captured their attention. Her golden markings shimmered in the lamplight, and the sheer density of her presence filled the hall.
I heard wolves whispering. Stunned fragments that carried across the silence.
Zephyr turned her head and pressed it gently against my side, and I rested my hand on her fur.
Then she opened herself to the room.
I felt it through our bond how her consciousness reached outward, and extended towards the supreme Alpha’s wolves.
They went still, their expressions shifting as their own wolves made contact with mine. The surrounding wolves watched curiously as their rulers looked like they were deep in thought.
Zephyr spoke to their wolves before she started to share.
I could feel the memories flowing outward from her like a river breaking through a dam. Like a steady, relentless current that carried a thousand years of lived experience into the minds of the Supreme Alphas, including Rowan and Kael.
I felt echoes of what she was showing them. Fragments I had already seen before. I tried not to dwell on it, but it was difficult.
The Supreme Alphas sat frozen in their seats as the minutes passed.
I watched their faces as the memories washed through them. Calder’s weathered features had gone slack, his pale eyes staring at a point far beyond the walls of the hall.
Voya’s face was pale. Genuinely pale, the blood drained from her cheeks, and her eyes glistened with a moisture she made no attempt to hide.
Even Rowan and Kael, who had known a sizeable amount of this history were stunned. Rowan’s eyes were closed, his face twisted with pain. Kael stared straight ahead, his jaw locked, a vein pulsing at his temple.
Throughout the hall, wolves were sending occasional glances my way. Impatient, curious, and eager to understand and see what the Supreme Alphas were witnessing.
When Zephyr was done, she drew herself back slowly, and gently closed the connections she had opened. I felt her exhaustion through our bond, the deep weariness of having relived a thousand years of grief in the span of minutes.
She pressed her head against my side one more time, then dissolved. Her massive form shimmered, broke apart into wisps of golden light, and sank back into me.
The silence that followed was absolute.
The Supreme Alphas all looked pale and exhausted, their composures shattered in ways that no political argument or legal testimony could have achieved.
They had felt a thousand years of suffering poured through their own wolves and settled into their bones.
No one could dismiss it as an hallucination now, especially considering Palisa’s involvement.
Calder didn’t speak for a long time.
Some of the others looked at me, and it felt strange. As if they were seeing me for the first time and truly understanding, what I represented.
Calder opened his mouth.
"This council finds that the death of Supreme Alpha Palisa of Nal was an act of self-defence, carried out under extreme duress against a rogue ruler who had violated her imprisonment, and unlawfully killed a wolf of Fresna."
I stilled.
Just like that?
He wasn’t opening a debate. He wasn’t inviting objections.
He was closing it this quickly.
"Violet is cleared of all charges related to Palisa’s death."
His voice was rough, stripped of the sharp authority it had carried at the start of the proceedings. He sounded like a man who had just been shown a wound he could never unsee.
"Furthermore," he continued, and the hall held its breath, "this council acknowledges the testimony of Violet’s wolf. Does anyone have any objections to the outcome of this trial?"
His gaze moved across the semicircle. Every Supreme Alpha he looked at either met his eyes and held them, or looked away. None of them objected.
I stared in disbelief. I really hadn’t expected this to be solved this quickly, but I was grateful they were at least shaken by this. Having them witness and experience it all had turned out far better than Zephyr and I just describing it to them.
"Thank you so much, Zephyr."
"Anything for you, Violet."
Calder looked at me, and from what he could see, he knew I was not done.
"Is there a further matter?" he asked.
"Yes. There is."
The room tensed.
"I wish to address the systematic persecution and extermination of the Lycans over these centuries."
[ - ]
Voya’s elders and wolves moved about and chatted in hushed whispers around me. Yet, I still drowned their words out.
I sat in a comfortable chair in the smaller meeting room near the hall.
But I was far from comfortable. I wasn’t entirely sure of what I felt.
My mind was still catching up.
It was over.
But not entirely. The broader discussion about Lycan persecution had been moved to a private meeting. The Supreme Alphas had listened to my initial words, their faces still pale and drawn from what Zephyr had shown them, and then Calder had pleaded that they were tired and would like for the discussion to be shifted to a more private meeting later.
In the meantime, he would need to convene with the other Supreme Alphas first before they met with me to address my concerns in full.
The others had agreed quickly. They had wanted out of that hall and distance themselves from what they had just experienced.
Kael and Rowan had spared me one last look as they left with the others, giving me weak smiles that didn’t quite reach the rest of their faces, especially after what they had seen.
Both of them had wanted to stay. I could feel it through the bonds, the pull of their instincts telling them to come to me, to hold me, to make sure I was alright.
But they had followed the other Supreme Alphas into their private meeting, because that was what needed to happen.
And I was here.
I stared at the stone wall across from me, tracing the faint cracks in its surface with my eyes.
It had been so fast.
I had spent weeks preparing for a battle, only for the mate announcement and Zephyr’s direct involvement to sway things entirely.
Part of me was grateful that I didn’t have to fight tooth and nail for every concession, that the evidence had been so undeniable that they couldn’t dismiss it.
But another part of me felt hollow.
Underwhelmed in a way that made me feel guilty for feeling it.
It had been that easy...
