Chapter 5 In His Defense

Anastasia's heart pounded in her chest, its rhythm loud in her ears as the werewolves closed in, their yellow, glowing eyes burning with rage. Claws extended. Teeth bared. The room was thick with bloodlust.

They were going to kill her.

The Council had spoken-treason meant death-and there was no mercy in their snarling faces.

Her hands trembled against the cold iron of the trial chair, wolfsbane chains still biting into her wrists. She could feel the weight of the moment-this was the end.

But then-a crack of thunder echoed through the hall.

Elder Jacob's staff slammed against the stone floor, the sound so powerful it rippled through the crowd. The attacking werewolves froze mid-lunge, their growls silenced in an instant.

Jacob stood, his towering form draped in the heavy furs of his rank, his silver mane glinting under the torchlight. His golden eyes flared with fury-not at Anastasia, but at the council itself.

"Since when," he thundered, "do we act like brute savages? Where is the dignity of this council? Where is the honor of Lupendralis?" His voice reverberated through the vast stone chamber, forcing even the most aggressive wolves to back away. "We have not even given Anastasia a chance to speak. She will have her voice-before we decide her fate. Now, sit down. All of you!"

Grumbling rippled through the hall, but one by one, the werewolves obeyed, their yellow eyes dimming as they retook their seats.

The tension eased-barely-but Anastasia still felt the weight of a hundred stares pressing down on her.

Elder Jacob turned toward her, his gaze hard but not without curiosity. "Anastasia," he said, "why did you commit such a treacherous act? Why protect a vampire?"

Her throat was dry, her heart still racing-but something in his voice gave her strength. She forced down her fear and sat up straighter, her hands tightening into fists against the iron chair.

She wouldn't cower.

She wouldn't beg.

She drew in a breath. "Because he saved my life."

The hall erupted into shocked murmurs.

But Anastasia pressed on, her voice growing stronger. "The vampire I protected is named Valerian. He saved me from death-when no one else could. A vampire lady had kidnapped me. I was moments away from having my head severed by her silver axe-when Valerian appeared. He killed her. Ripped out her heart before she could finish me. He saved me."

The murmurs grew louder, confusion and disbelief thick in the air.

Anastasia's voice lifted above it. "I repaid that life debt. I protected him because it was right. I saw goodness in him. Principles. Morality. He isn't like the others." Her hands tightened against the chains. "And if I had to do it again, I would."

The crowd stirred-this time in outrage.

"There's no such thing as a good vampire!" someone shouted.

"They're all evil-every last one!"

"A vampire is always the enemy!"

"Defending one is treason!"

"She must be condemned!"

The courtroom became a sea of snarls and raised voices, but Anastasia no longer heard them. The fear that had once gripped her was gone-replaced by a burning, righteous courage. She sat taller, unflinching beneath their fury.

For the first time, she wasn't afraid-not of the Council, not of the Elders-not even of death.

She would stand by her decision.

Even if it killed her.

Elder Magnus shot to his feet, his face twisted with rage, his staff clutched so tightly his knuckles whitened. Beside him, Elder Justin mirrored his fury, both voices rising in unison.

"The charge of treason stands!" they roared. "And she will be condemned to death! Your excuse is not enough to save you, Anastasia. You fought your own kind to defend a vampire! That cannot go unpunished!"

Anastasia's heart raced, the iron chains suddenly feeling heavier around her wrists. She bit her lip, fighting the urge to scream.

But then-a calm, level voice broke the chaos.

"I disagree."

The hall fell into stunned silence as Elder Lucius rose from his seat. His silver hair framed a face marked by wisdom, his eyes soft with a rare hint of compassion.

"Anastasia's actions, though reckless, were driven by loyalty and gratitude-not malice or hatred toward her kind," Lucius said, his voice echoing through the vast chamber. "She protected someone who saved her life. That is not treason-it is honor."

A murmur rippled through the crowd, but before it could swell, Elder Jacob stood as well, his towering frame commanding the room.

"Magnus," he began, his voice calm but laced with authority, "it baffles me that you, Justin, and so many here are so eager to kill the only werewolf in our entire history who has achieved the impossible-moved three times faster than a vampire and slain twenty-five of them in under three seconds."

Gasps echoed through the hall.

Jacob's eyes swept across the room. "No werewolf-not even under the light of a full moon-has ever accomplished such a feat. Are you all so blinded by hatred that you would ignore the true mystery before us? Do none of you wonder why she is different?" His voice grew sharper. "Anastasia's existence is a question that demands an answer, not an execution."

Elder Magnus bared his teeth. "Her crime-"

"-could hold the key to a prophecy older than this council," Jacob interrupted, his staff striking the stone floor with a thunderous crack.

The room stiffened.

"The prophecy of the Hybrid," Jacob continued, "spoken of in the ancient annals, buried under five centuries of dust. A child, born of two bloodlines, destined to end the vampires' reign and reshape the fate of both kingdoms."

A wave of stunned silence rippled through the hall.

Anastasia's mind reeled. A prophecy? Her heart pounded in her ears. Her parents never told her anything about this-no bedtime stories, no whispered legends. Why would they keep this from her?

Around her, werewolves exchanged uneasy glances. Some scoffed, others whispered in disbelief.

"That's just a myth!" someone cried.

"A fable to scare pups!"

"No Hybrid exists-there's no proof!"

But Jacob's voice silenced them once more. "And if you're wrong?" he asked, his golden eyes hard. "What if Anastasia is the one? If we kill her now, we may be destroying the key to ending this centuries-long war."

A thick, heavy silence settled over the council, each elder lost in thought.

But then-a thunderous bang shattered it.

The council chamber doors burst open, a young werewolf warrior stumbling inside, panting hard, his fur slick with sweat.

"Emergency at the town square!" he gasped. "A vampire-caught near the execution center. We've chained him and await orders... to sever his head!"

The hall erupted in chaos.

Anastasia's breath caught. Her mind raced as the warrior's words echoed through her. 'A vampire... him... execution...'

Could it be Valerian?

Her pulse thundered in her ears. "Who is it?" she demanded, panic rising. "What's his name?"

But the warrior was already being pulled aside by Magnus, his voice drowned in the council's furious shouting.

Anastasia's blood ran cold.

Is it him? Is Valerian about to die-because of me?

For the first time since her trial began, pure terror overtook her.

She had to find out. Before it was too late.