The Final Trial
Batista's Point of View
The glass slipped from my hand before I could even set it down. It shattered on the floor beside me, but the sound didn't register. My guard's voice rang in my ears like a thunderclap.
"She fainted this afternoon… Alpha. Rain's unconscious."
My breath caught. "What?"
I was on my feet before I realized it, heart hammering.
"I left her with Dan," I muttered, more to myself than to him. "He promised me she'd be okay. Didn't they feed her? Give her water?"
The guard didn't lift his gaze. "No, Alpha. Dan gave orders—no food, no water."
My stomach twisted violently.
"You mean she's gone five days without anything?"
He nodded, and my chest caved in.
"Get her down. Now. Cut her free and bring her in. We'll hold her final trial tonight."
But I couldn't wait. "Take me to her."
The rain was falling hard when I stepped outside, soaking through my clothes in seconds. The sky cried for her. For all I couldn't do.
I spotted Dan leaning casually against the corridor wall like he had all the time in the world. His presence alone sparked something in me—anger.
"Batista," he greeted with a small nod. "Where are you headed? You look… off. Everything okay?"
"Don't," I snapped. "Don't act surprised."
He blinked. "What are you talking about?"
"Rain fainted," I said through gritted teeth. "Five days. No food. No water. You said you'd take care of her."
His face shifted. "I am taking care of you. That was the plan."
"The plan?" I stepped closer, rain streaming down my face like tears I refused to shed. "I trusted you with her life. You told me to stay away from her,"i reminded. "You said it would look bad, that I had to let you handle it. So I did.
Dan's eyes darkened. "I did it for you," he said quietly, almost like he regretted it. "Laela was Elder Gareth's daughter. If he finds out you're secretly protecting the girl who killed her, he'll never forgive you. He could turn rebel, Batista. That's not just political—it's personal. Your life would be on the line."
I stared at him, my heart pounding like war drums. "And Rain? What about her life? She collapsed, Dan. She's barely surviving in a place where everyone hates her. And you're telling me you stayed away… for my reputation?"
He took a deep breath, his voice low. "I'm your beta. Your best friend. If I got too close to her, they'd question everything. They'd start suspecting both of us. This isn't an ordinary case, Batista. It's not just about feelings—it's about war."
"I need to see her," I muttered, my voice cracking under the weight in my chest. "I heard she fainted, and—damn it—I feel like my heart is going to explode."
Dan's eyes welled up. "Me too," he choked out. "I act like I'm fine, but I'm not. I feel so helpless, Batista. It hurts. It really hurts."
Without thinking, I reached out and pulled him into a hug. It wasn't just comfort—it was the silent, desperate embrace of two men drowning in the consequences of their own choices.
"I know," I whispered. "I know how you feel. And I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry. All this... everything Rain's suffering through—it's because of me. And that guilt? It's eating me alive."
I pulled back and looking directly in his eyes. "We should go see her."
"No," he said, voice trembling. "We can't. It's already too late." He looked at me with haunted eyes. "The Elders are here. They're demanding we hold the final trial today."
His words hit me like a dagger to the chest.
"We should just… let her go," Dan whispered. "Maybe it's time."
"No!" I snapped. "Don't say that. You have to try one more time. Go to her. Tell her the trial is in an hour. Convince her—beg her—to confess. I won't kill her, Dan. I swear it. I'll just exile her."
Dan hesitated, but I gripped his arm tightly. "Go, Dan."
"But how?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder. "The Elders are watching us like hawks. They'll see me."
"I'll handle that," I said. "I'll call a meeting. I'll distract them. You have only one hour. That's all I can buy you. So go. Now."
Dan blinked back tears and gave me a shaky nod. "Thank you," he whispered. "You're more than my Alpha, Batista. You're my brother."
He turned and ran, disappearing down the corridor.
I stood there, frozen for a heartbeat, staring at the space he left behind. My chest felt like it was caving in. Dan was truly like a brother to me—and it broke me that even with all my power, I couldn't shield him from this pain.
I turned sharply to the guard beside me. "Send word to all the Elders. Tell them I'm calling an emergency meeting—now."
"Yes, Alpha!" the guard said, sprinting away.
I closed my eyes and drew a shaky breath, pressing a hand to my chest. Rain...
I would do anything to save her. Anything. I can't let her die. If I lose her, it won't just break me—it'll destroy me.
I opened my eyes, resolve hardening in my bones.
Please… let this work. Let us succeed.
And with that silent prayer burning in my soul, I turned and marched toward the council chamber, ready to buy the only thing we had left.
The Final Trial
I felt the walls around my heart crack. But I couldn't afford to break now—not with the Elders here, not with the entire pack watching. They wanted blood. They wanted justice.
So I summoned the final trial.
By the time the courtyard filled, the sky was bruised with fading light. Every warrior, every Elder, every civilian stood in a wide semi-circle, eyes burning with judgment. And then… they brought her forward.
Rain.
She looked like a ghost of herself—pale, trembling, barely able to stand. But even in her weakness, she refused to kneel. Her chin was raised. Her pride remained intact.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to wear the mask of an Alpha.
"Confess now," I said, my voice louder than I meant it to be. "Or you will be thrown into the Well of Misery."
She didn't answer right away. Her lips were cracked, her breathing shallow. And then, with a fragile voice that carried more strength than I could bear, she whispered—
"I have nothing to confess. I am innocent."
My heart clenched.
Still, I hesitated.
I looked at Dan. Our eyes met. He gave the smallest shake of his head—just enough for me to see.
She didn't confess.
She refused.
A part of me still hoped. I wanted to believe Dan had gotten through to her. That she'd choose survival, even if it meant a lie.
I stood from my throne. My hand tightened around the edge of my cloak as I stepped forward, a last-ditch effort clawing its way up my throat.
"Rain…" I said, trying to keep my voice from cracking. "Please. Just say the words. Say you did it, and I will forgive you. I swear it. You'll be exiled, but you'll live. You'll be free."
Her eyes met mine—those same defiant, soul-piercing eyes I once thought I could lose myself in.
"I am innocent," she said again, louder this time, and more certain. "I won't confess to something I didn't do."
A heavy silence dropped over the courtyard like a suffocating blanket.
Then, Elder Gareth stepped forward, his robes billowing, face twisted in rage.
"This is an insult," he barked. "She stands there, showing no remorse, no shame. She still dares to call herself innocent!" He turned to face me directly. "My daughter lies cold in the ground, and you hesitate? She deserves justice! Kill this murderer, Alpha Batista!"
His voice cracked like a whip across the courtyard.
A murmur rose from the crowd, growing into a chorus of fury.
"She must die!"
"Justice for Laena!"
"Throw her in!"
"KILL HER!"
Their chants rose like a tidal wave.
And I—Alpha of this pack, protector of its laws—stood frozen.
My vision blurred at the edges. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. I looked at Rain one last time, hoping—praying—she'd change her mind.
But she stood tall.
Unbroken.
And with a heart that felt like it was shattering inside my chest, I raised my hand.
"Kill her," I said, barely able to push the words out. "Throw her into the Well of Misery."
The pack roared in approval.
I, however, felt nothing but the cold creeping up my spine.
Forgive me, Rain.
Jack immediately grabbed Rain's arm, his grip rough and impatient. She staggered but didn't make a sound. My heart clenched.
Before Jack could take a single step—
"Don't worry, Jack."
The voice rang out, calm but heavy. Familiar.
Dan.
He stepped forward from the crowd, his face expressionless, but I knew him. I knew how much he was holding back. His pain ran deep—his mate was about to be executed, and there was nothing he could do.
"Let me take her," he said quietly, his voice laced with sorrow.
Jack's grip on Rain tightened as he turned sharply. "That's my job."
I raised a hand to stop them both. "Leave him," I said, my voice firm but gentle. "Let him take her."
Dan deserved this moment. He deserved to say goodbye to the woman he loved. If I could offer him even that small mercy, then I would. He had been strong for me—for the pack—for so long. This was the least I could do.
Jack backed off reluctantly, shooting Dan a warning look, but I ignored it. My eyes were on Dan, and for a moment, I felt the sting of guilt press against my ribs.
He moved toward her, slow and careful, as though afraid she might shatter at his touch. His hands cupped her arm tenderly, and when their eyes met, I had to look away. The grief in their shared gaze was too much.
This wasn't just about punishment. It was about loss. About love torn apart by duty.
I sat back in my chair, jaw clenched, heart heavy.
Letting Dan take her felt like the only humane thing I'd done today.
I just prayed it would be enough to give him some closure.