The trial hall was packed.
Pack members had been filing in since dawn, filling the long rows of benches, lining the walls when the seats ran out, gathering in clusters at the back of the room and trading low whispers.
The energy in the hall was tight and charged, the particular hum of a community that knew it was about to witness something it would talk about for years.
Derek sat on his throne at the front, his hands resting on the carved arms, his face giving nothing away.
Nana was seated to his right, her back straight, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
The elder wolves who would preside over the trial occupied the long bench to his left, robed and solemn.
To anyone watching, Derek looked exactly as he was supposed to look. Composed. Sovereign. Unreadable.
Underneath, he was checking his phone every two minutes.
Nothing from Kira.
He had expected her to be here by now. The hall had been ready for an hour.
