FIA
His eyes held mine for a beat too long. Then he glanced away, mouth pressed into a thin line.
No one forgot their surname because of nerves. Not when introducing themselves in an official capacity. Not when representing their pack to an Alpha and Luna.
This was intentional.
Cian then started speaking. "What brings you to Skollrend?" Professional. Measured.
Elder Matthias leaned forward slightly. "We come on behalf of the Silver Creek Council. There have been developments in an ongoing investigation that concern your pack."
"Hazel," I said. My voice came out steadier than I expected.
All four of them looked at me. Elder Vera’s expression shifted. Just a fraction. Recognition, maybe. Or respect.
"Yes, Luna," Matthias confirmed. "The investigation into Luna Hazel Hughes has reached a critical stage. The council has and is gathering considerable evidence and testimony. We’ve been asked to inform you that your presence may be required at the next hearing."
"My presence?"
"As the victim of the attempted murder." Elder Vera’s tone was clinical. Detached. "Your testimony would be invaluable."
Cian’s hand found mine again. His thumb traced small circles against my palm. Grounding.
"When?" he asked.
"The hearing is scheduled for a few hours from now," Matthias said. "We understand this is short notice, but the council is moving quickly. There are concerns about the integrity of the evidence if we delay."
"What kind of evidence?" I kept my eyes on Matthias, but I was hyperaware of Baruch. He’d shifted in his seat. Uncomfortable. Or maybe just careful.
"Witness testimony. Medical records." Matthias ticked them off like a grocery list. "The case against her can be substantial. So the council wants to ensure all perspectives are heard before rendering judgment."
"Will she be convicted?" Cian’s voice had dropped. Harder now. Protective.
"That’s not for us to determine," Elder Vera said. "We’re simply messengers."
Silence settled over the room. Heavy. Thick. I could feel Cian waiting for me to speak. Could feel all four emissaries watching. Waiting.
"I’ll testify," I said finally. "Whatever the council needs from me."
The words settled into the room like something final. I felt Cian’s thumb slow against my palm, his grip firming just a little, not to stop me but to let me know he was there. Elder Matthias nodded once, as if he had expected nothing else.
"There is one more thing," he said. "We will need the recording you made of Luna Hazel during the altercation the night before the incident."
I didn’t hesitate. "No problem at all. I still have it."
Relief flickered across his face, brief but real. Elder Vera relaxed back into her chair, hands folding neatly in her lap.
"Would you like anything to drink?" I asked, partly out of courtesy and partly because the air had gone too tight. "Water. Tea."
"We’re fine, Luna," Matthias said smoothly.
"Water would be sufficient," Elder Vera added.
Marcus nodded in agreement, already reaching for the glass carafe on the table.
"I’d like some coffee."
The voice cut through the small chorus of refusals. Baruch’s voice. Quiet but clear.
Three heads turned toward him at once.
"There’s really no need for that," Elder Vera said, her tone sharper now. "We don’t want to trouble them."
I looked at Baruch. He met my gaze again, steady this time, something unreadable sitting behind his eyes.
"He said coffee," I said calmly. "He’ll get coffee."
Cian’s mouth twitched at the corner, but he said nothing.
I turned toward the door and caught the attention of the nearest sentinel. "Please go to the kitchen and get a cup of coffee."
"Yes, Luna."
I looked back at Baruch. "How do you like it?"
"With milk," he said.
"With milk," I repeated to the sentinel as he left.
The room shifted after that. Not dramatically. Just enough to make the silence feel more aware of itself. Elder Matthias cleared his throat.
"So," I said, folding my hands together. "Who will be collecting the file?"
"I will," Baruch said.
He stood and reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a small drive. Black. Unremarkable. A type C connector glinted briefly in the light as he walked toward me.
I unlocked my phone and opened the recordings app, already scrolling. "It’s dated from one night ago. About twenty minutes in. I can point it out."
He took the phone from my hand. His fingers brushed mine, warm and unsteady for just a fraction of a second. Instead of scrolling where I indicated, he exited the app.
I stiffened.
He opened my notes.
My pulse picked up, sharp and sudden, but I didn’t move. I didn’t say anything. I just watched as his thumbs hovered, then began to type.
I’m sure you’ve figured it out already.
But I am Milo’s brother.
And I need your help.
The words stared back at me from my own screen.
For a moment, the room faded. The emissaries. The morning light. The quiet weight of the hearing only hours away. All of it fell back as something old and unfinished rose up instead.
I looked up at Baruch. He wasn’t watching the others. He was watching me, carefully, like he was braced for impact.
I took the phone back from him without comment, closed the notes app, and reopened the recording. My hands were steady when I passed it back, even if something inside my chest had gone tight and sore.
"There," I said evenly. "That’s the file."
He nodded and transferred it to the drive quickly, professionally, like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.
The sentinel returned a moment later with the coffee. I took it and handed it to Baruch myself.
"With milk," I said.
His fingers curled around the cup. "Thank you, Luna."
His voice carried something careful now. Not gratitude. Not relief. Something closer to restraint.
I sat back beside Cian, my posture composed, my hands folded neatly in my lap. If anyone in the room sensed the shift, they were polite enough not to acknowledge it. Elder Matthias resumed discussing logistics. Elder Vera asked procedural questions about the hearing. Marcus listened, silent and observant.
I heard them all. I answered when required. I did everything right.
But inside, my thoughts had already moved elsewhere.
Milo and I had never ended cleanly. There had been too many sharp edges, too much hurt left unspoken, too many things I had learned too late. His death has still been vile and horrible. But... the idea that his blood had now walked into my home and asked me for help, quietly and without warning, sat wrong in my chest.
Whatever Baruch wanted from me, it was not simple. And it was not something I would give lightly.