Instead, I drew everyone’s focus back to me, to break the tension. “Jace never really intended for me to accept that job. He thought I’d graduate and go back home, and he had no idea what I was up to.”
“Well, he should have,” Mitchell said, and panic swelled inside me when I saw the sentiment echoed on several of the other Alpha’s faces. “Tell us about Gene Hargrove. Why did you kill him?”
“Because if he’d kept talking, Jace would have figured out that Robyn was a stray. I was trying to protect her.”
“Were you not also trying to protect yourself?” Nick Davidson asked, speaking up for the first time.
“No, I was pretty much already screwed,” I said, and when Faythe flinched, I realized they might count “screwed” as profanity. Was that strike three?
“How so?” she asked before anyone could object to my language.
“Well, even if I could have kept everyone from finding out Robyn was the killer, eventually they’d at least find out she existed, and then everyone would know I’d been hiding her.” My open-armed gesture indicated the entire inquisition. “I’d have ended up here anyway, and I knew that from the start.”
“I think we’ve heard enough,” Ed Taylor said, and I swear he glanced at my naked ring finger. “Ms. Wade, is there anything else you’d like to say to the council before we dismiss for deliberation?”
“Um…” I began, as my heart tried to launch itself up my throat, and Faythe motioned for me to rise with a subtle openhanded gesture.
I stood, then started over, my hands clutched in front of my skirt to keep them from shaking. “I just want to thank the council for the opportunity to speak in my own defense.” My father had made me practice it just like that. “And I want to say that I’m so sorry. I was trying to do the best thing for Robyn, and obviously I made the wrong call. But my intent was never to break the council’s laws or defy its authority.”
“Yet that’s exactly what you did,” Taylor observed, and my pulse spiked again. “Our rules exist for a reason, Ms. Wade, and your disregard for them led to the slaughter of four humans and a dangerous amount of news coverage. Your actions are also responsible for delaying our discovery of the hunting club itself, the consequences of which could be far-reaching.” He stood, and my heart dropped into my stomach. “Okay. We’re going to take a minute to deliberate, if we could please have the room.”
I tried not to assume that he hated me just because I’d dumped his son, but I’d pleaded guilty to several very serious charges, depending on the council’s mercy at sentencing, and the temporary chair did not seem to be in a generous mood.
“I don’t think we’ll need very long,” Blackwell mumbled as I turned to leave the room. Several of the others nodded in agreement.
My father looked like someone was trying to cut his heart out of his chest, right there in front of everyone.
Faythe looked like she wanted to vomit.
That’s when I understood just how badly my inquisition had gone. They weren’t just going to cut off the ends of my fingers or take my canines. They were going to lock me up.
In a cage.
The council would see that as a mercy; after all, they were sparing my life. What they didn’t understand was that I couldn’t survive another cage. I would lose my mind. I would have nothing to do for months—maybe years—on end but remember the last time I’d been locked up.
My chest felt tight and I couldn’t draw in a breath. My mouth opened, and I sucked at a whole room full of air but couldn’t drag any of it in.
Bars. Bruises. Pain.
I bent over with my hands on my knees, fighting the looming panic attack, but the world began to swim around me as I lost the battle.
Locked doors. Blackened windows. Torn clothes.
“You’re dismissed, Abigail,” Paul Blackwell said, and I tried to stand, but my vision flickered and I stumbled.
My father stepped forward and Faythe reached for me, but then Jace was my side, one arm around my waist. Practically holding me up. “Wait. I’d like to address the council,” he said, and the sound of his voice opened my lungs. I sucked in a deep breath, then turned to look up at him, clutching the edge of the table for balance.
The look in his eyes—like a kamikaze in a tailspin—made my heart race in panic.
“No.” I let go of the table and blinked to clear my vision. “Jace, whatever you’re about to do, don’t.”
“Sit.” He pointed at my chair, and my body obeyed before my mind could think to object.
“Let’s hear him,” Blackwell said, and I knew from the glee in the old bastard’s voice that he knew exactly what was about to happen—and that he’d enjoy every minute of it. He’d never been Jace’s biggest fan.
“The council will hear Jace Hammond, Alpha of the Appalachian Pride,” Ed Taylor said, sinking back into his seat at the head of Faythe’s dining room table.
Jace clasped his hands at his back and looked at each of his fellow council members in turn, ending with Ed Taylor. “As her Alpha during the time in question, I take full responsibility for Abby’s actions.”