Aria's POV
"Forgeries—"
"We had them analyzed. The pack's document expert confirmed they're authentic. Your hand, your ink, your paper."
My world tilted. "That's impossible."
"The wolfsbane vials had your fingerprints on them."
"I never touched those vials!"
"Selene's testimony. The letters. The physical evidence. Your fingerprints." Damien's voice was dead. "Aria, how can I believe you when everything proves you're guilty?"
"Because you love me!" I pressed against the bars. "Because we're married! Because I'm carrying your baby!"
"Are you?" The question was so quiet I almost didn't hear it.
"What?"
"Carrying my baby. Are you really?" Damien stepped back. "Or was that another lie to keep me tied to you?"
The words hit like a physical blow. "How can you ask me that?"
"How can I believe anything you say anymore?" His voice rose. "You've been acting paranoid for weeks! Accusing Selene of conspiracy! Claiming Marcus betrayed you! Maybe the pregnancy was just another manipulation!"
"It's REAL!" I screamed. "Everything I've told you is real! The baby is real! The conspiracy is real! I'm being framed, and you're too blind to see it!"
"Don't." His voice turned to steel. "Don't make this my fault. You poisoned my fated mate. You tried to kill her. That's on you."
"I didn't—"
"The trial is tomorrow night." Damien turned away. "The Council will hear all the evidence. They'll decide your fate."
"Damien, please." I reached through the bars uselessly. "Please believe me. I'm begging you."
He stopped walking but didn't turn around.
"Do you love her?" I whispered.
Silence.
"The mate bond—do you love Selene more than you love me?"
"I don't know anymore." His voice was broken. "I don't know what I feel or what's real. The bond pulls at me constantly. But when I look at you in that cell, accused of trying to murder her..." He took a shaky breath. "I should defend you. I should believe you. But I can't ignore the evidence."
"So you choose silence." My voice was hollow. "You choose to let them destroy me rather than fight for our marriage."
"I choose to let justice run its course."
"That's the same as choosing her." Tears streamed down my face. "You're letting them kill me, Damien. Your silence is killing me."
He flinched but still didn't turn around.
"If the Council finds you innocent, we'll figure this out," he said quietly. "But if they find you guilty..."
He walked away, leaving the sentence unfinished.
I knew what he meant. If the Council found me guilty, he wouldn't stop them from executing me.
He'd let me die.
I sank to the floor, sobbing. This was worse than being framed. Worse than the fake evidence.
Damien—my husband, my mate, the man I'd loved for five years—had just told me he might let them kill me.
The cell door opened. I looked up, expecting guards.
Lyssa slipped inside, moving fast and quiet.
"We don't have much time," she whispered urgently. "I bribed the night guard. Five minutes, that's all."
"Lyssa—"
"Listen to me." She grabbed my shoulders. "I know you didn't do this. I've been investigating like I promised. And Aria..." Her face was grim. "I found something. Something that proves you're being framed."
Hope exploded in my chest. "What? What did you find?"
"Not here. It's not safe." Lyssa pressed something into my hand—a small key. "This opens the service tunnel behind your old chambers. There's a loose stone in the wall, third row from the floor. Behind it, I hid everything I found. Letters. Financial records. Proof of the conspiracy."
"Why didn't you bring it to Damien?"
"Because I don't know who to trust anymore." Lyssa's eyes were fierce. "Marcus has too much influence. Half the Council might be compromised. If I reveal what I know now, they'll destroy the evidence and kill me."
"So what do I do?"
"Survive the trial. I'll testify on your behalf. Then, if they exile you instead of executing you, you use that key. Get to your old chambers. Get the evidence. And run."
"Run where?"
"Anywhere that's not here." Lyssa hugged me tight. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you from this."
"You're trying. That's more than anyone else." I held her close. "Thank you."
She pulled back, tears in her eyes. "The evidence I found... Aria, it's worse than you think. The conspiracy goes deeper than Marcus and Selene. There are others involved. Powerful others."
"Who?"
Footsteps echoed in the hallway.
"I have to go." Lyssa moved to the door. "Remember—third row from the floor in your old chambers. The truth is waiting."
She vanished into the shadows.
The guard appeared, looking suspicious. "Who were you talking to?"
"No one," I said. "Just myself."
He grunted and walked away.
I looked at the key in my palm. It was small. Ordinary. But it represented hope.
Somewhere in this packhouse was proof of my innocence. Proof that would expose the conspiracy.
I just had to survive long enough to find it.
The trial was tomorrow night. If the Council found me guilty, they'd execute me immediately. Traditional pack law—poison attempts were punished by death.
But if they chose exile instead...
I gripped the key tighter.
If they exiled me, I'd have one chance. One desperate chance to clear my name before the Shadowlands killed me.
A sound made me freeze.
Someone was screaming. Far away, but getting closer.
"HELP! Someone help!"
The guard ran toward the sound, leaving my cell unguarded.
I pressed against the bars, trying to see what was happening.
More screams. Shouts. The sound of running feet.
Then Lyssa's voice, high and terrified: "SHE'S DEAD! Oh god, she's dead!"
My blood turned to ice.
The guard returned, his face pale. "There's been another poisoning," he said. "One of the omega servants. Same symptoms as Selene—wolfsbane."
No. No, no, no.
"But that's impossible," another guard said. "Luna Aria is locked up. She couldn't have—"
"Unless she has an accomplice." The first guard looked at me with new suspicion. "Someone helping her from outside the cell."
"I don't have an accomplice!" I shouted. "I didn't poison anyone!"
But they weren't listening anymore. They were already running toward the new crime scene.
I sat down slowly, my mind racing.
Someone had poisoned another person while I was locked up. Which should prove my innocence—I couldn't have done it if I was in a cell.
But instead, they'd assume I had help. An accomplice. Someone working with me.
And the only person who'd visited me tonight was Lyssa.
They were going to blame her.
They were going to arrest my only friend and claim we were conspiring together.
The trap had just gotten bigger.
And I realized with horrible certainty: whoever was framing me wasn't going to stop until I was dead.