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"All rise."
Sienna Hale kept her face blank as the courtroom stood. Six years. She'd signed the order that put Kael Thorne in a cell, and she'd do it again if she had to.
Except now he was standing ten feet away, and her wolf was clawing at her ribs.
"Be seated," she said. Her voice came out steady. Good. She watched the gallery settle, watched the prosecution team shuffle their files. Watched Kael Thorne sit down in the defendant's chair and lock eyes with her.
The bond snapped into place like a gunshot.
Her breath stopped. Her pulse spiked so hard she heard it in her ears. Every instinct in her body screamed *mine* and she wanted to climb over the bench and—
"Your Honor?" The bailiff was staring at her.
Sienna dragged her gaze away from Kael. "Proceed."
"The defense moves to reopen Commonwealth versus Thorne," the lawyer said. "New evidence suggests—"
"I've read the motion." Sienna flipped open the file in front of her. Her hands didn't shake. She'd learned that trick a long time ago. "Mr. Thorne, you were convicted of the massacre at Greyvale. Fourteen civilians. Women and children."
"I didn't kill them," Kael said.
His voice was rougher than she remembered. Six years in a military prison did that. She forced herself to look at him again.
Big mistake.
He was watching her the way a wolf watches prey. Dark eyes, sharper than they'd been at the first trial. Broader in the shoulders. The scar along his jaw was new. And the bond was still there, pulling at her like a fishhook in her chest.
"You confessed," she said.
"I was ordered to." He leaned forward. "By someone who wanted me gone."
"Your Honor, if I may—" The defense attorney tried to cut in.
"No." Sienna kept her eyes on Kael. "You signed the confession. I watched you do it."
"Yeah." His mouth curved, not quite a smile. "You did."
Something in his tone made her wolf sit up and snarl. She shoved it down. "Then why are you wasting my time?"
"Because you know I didn't do it."
The courtroom went silent. Sienna heard the scratch of the court reporter's keys, the hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. She heard her own heartbeat, too fast, too loud.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me, Judge Hale." Kael stood up. The bailiff moved, but Sienna raised a hand.
"Sit down, Mr. Thorne."
"No."
Her wolf lunged against her control. She dug her nails into the bench. "I will hold you in contempt."
"Go ahead." He took a step closer. "I've been in a cell for six years. What's one more night?"
"Bailiff—"
"I didn't kill those people," Kael said. His voice dropped, rough and low. "And you know it. You knew it then."
Sienna stood. The bond pulled harder, a physical ache in her chest. "I reviewed the evidence. I signed the order. You were guilty."
"I took the fall." He was at the base of the bench now, close enough that she could see the gold flecks in his eyes. Close enough that her wolf was purring. "Someone had to. But it wasn't me."
"Then who?"
"That's what you're going to help me find out."
She almost laughed. "I'm not helping you with anything."
"Yeah, you are." Kael tilted his head. "Because we both felt it, didn't we? The second I walked in."
Her stomach dropped. "I don't know what you're—"
"Don't lie to me, Judge." He said the title like it was something dirty. "You felt the bond. You're feeling it right now."
Sienna gripped the edge of the bench. "Bailiff, remove the defendant."
"I'm your mate," Kael said. "And you sent me to rot."
The bailiff grabbed his arm. Kael didn't resist, just kept his eyes on her as they hauled him back toward the defense table. The bond stretched between them like a wire, tight and humming.
"We're adjourned," Sienna said. Her voice sounded far away. "I'll issue a ruling on the motion by end of week."
She didn't wait for a response. She walked through the door behind the bench, into her chambers, and locked it.
Then she leaned against the wood and tried to breathe.
Fated mates. She'd heard the stories. The pull, the heat, the certainty. She'd never believed it could feel like this—like drowning and flying at the same time.
And it was Kael Thorne. The man she'd convicted. The man she'd called a butcher in open court.
Her wolf didn't care. Her wolf wanted to go back out there and—
"Shut up," she said out loud.
A knock on the door made her jump.
"Judge Hale?" Leah's voice, low and worried. "You okay in there?"
Sienna straightened. Smoothed her robe. "Fine. I'm fine."
"You sure? Because you just bolted out of—"
"I said I'm fine." She unlocked the door and pulled it open. Leah stood in the hallway, holding a stack of files and looking at her like she'd lost her mind. "What?"
"Nothing." Leah stepped inside and shut the door. "Except you just had a full meltdown in open court."
"I did not—"
"Sienna." Leah set the files down. "I've worked for you for three years. I've never seen you adjourn early. What happened?"
Sienna turned away. "The defendant was out of line."
"The defendant said you knew he was innocent."
"He's lying."
"Is he?"
Sienna spun back around. "You think I'd convict an innocent man?"
"No." Leah held up her hands. "But I think you'd convict a man who confessed. Even if something felt wrong."
"Nothing felt wrong."
"Then why are your hands shaking?"
Sienna looked down. Her fingers were trembling against her sides. She curled them into fists. "Get out."
"Sienna—"
"Out. Now."
Leah stared at her for a long moment, then nodded and left. The door clicked shut.
Sienna sat down at her desk. Pulled up the Thorne file on her computer. She'd memorized it six years ago—every witness statement, every piece of forensic evidence, every photo of the bodies they'd pulled out of the Greyvale packhouse.
Fourteen dead. All of them slaughtered while Kael Thorne's unit was on patrol nearby. His prints on the weapon. His blood at the scene. His confession, signed and dated.
Open and shut.
Except now there was new evidence. DNA that didn't match. Testimony from a witness who'd recanted. And a fated bond that made her wolf howl every time she thought his name.
"Damn it," she said.
Her phone buzzed. A text from the bailiff: *Defendant released on own recognizance. Left something for you.*
Sienna frowned. Grabbed her robe and walked back out into the courtroom.
It was empty now. The gallery cleared, the lights dimmed. Just her and the bench and the faint smell of Kael's scent still hanging in the air.
And a file folder sitting on the judge's bench.
She walked over slowly. The folder was thin, unmarked. She picked it up and opened it.
The first page was a birth certificate. Faded, creased, forty years old. The name at the top made her blood go cold.
*Sienna Hale* was written in careful script. But the bloodline registry underneath was wrong. Not the purebred Hale line she'd claimed for fifteen years. Not the judicial caste that had given her this seat.
A half-breed. Bastard born. Last survivor of the Greyvale massacre.
She flipped to the next page. A photo, grainy and old. A woman with Sienna's eyes holding a baby. A man beside them, smiling. Both of them wearing the sigil of the Greyvale pack.
The pack Kael Thorne had been convicted of slaughtering.
Her hands went numb. The file slipped, and she caught it just before it hit the floor.
A note was clipped to the back page. Kael's handwriting, rough and blunt:
*You want to keep your secret, Judge? Reopen my case. Or I tell the council who you really are.*
Sienna stared at the words until they blurred. Her wolf was silent now, coiled tight and waiting.
Someone cleared their throat behind her.
She spun around. Kael stood in the gallery doorway, hands in his pockets, watching her.
"How long have you known?" she said.
"Long enough." He walked down the aisle, slow and deliberate. "You covered your tracks pretty well. Forged the bloodline papers, bribed the right clerks. But you missed one."
"Who else knows?"
"Just me." He stopped at the bar. "For now."
Sienna set the file down. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might crack a rib. "What do you want?"
"I told you. Reopen my case."
"And if I don't?"
Kael smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. "Then the Moonsworn Council finds out their youngest chief justice is a half-breed bastard who's been lying for fifteen years. They'll strip your seat. Probably charge you with fraud. You'll lose everything."
"You're blackmailing me."
"Yeah." He leaned against the bar. "I am."
She wanted to hit him. Wanted to scream. Wanted to climb over the bench and make him take it back. But her wolf was still purring, still pulling toward him, and she hated it.
"Why?" she said. "If you know who I am, you know I'm—"
"The last survivor." Kael's voice went rough. "Yeah. I know."
"Then you know I have every reason to want you dead."
"Except I didn't kill them." He pushed off the bar and walked closer. "Your family. Your pack. I didn't do it, Sienna."
Hearing her name in his mouth made her wolf shiver. She locked her knees. "Then who did?"
"That's what we're going to find out." He stopped a foot away. Close enough that she could feel the heat of him, the pull of the bond like gravity. "Together."
"I'm not working with you."
"Yeah, you are." He reached out and tapped the file on the bench. "Because if I go down, you go down. And whoever really killed your pack is still out there."
Sienna stared at him. At the scar on his jaw, the gold in his eyes, the way he stood like he had nothing left to lose.
"I could have you arrested," she said.
"For what? Telling the truth?" Kael tilted his head. "Go ahead, Judge. Call your bailiff. But that file gets delivered to the council the second I'm back in cuffs."
Her jaw ached. She realized she was clenching it. "You're a bastard."
"And you're a liar." He leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed her cheek. "Guess we're perfect for each other."
The bond flared, sharp and hungry. Sienna's wolf lunged, and for half a second she almost closed the distance. Almost grabbed him and—
She stepped back. "Get out."
"I'll be in touch," Kael said. He straightened, tucked his hands back in his pockets. "We start tomorrow. Eight a.m. I'll send you the address."
"I didn't agree to—"
"Yeah, you did." He turned and walked back up the aisle. Paused at the door and looked over his shoulder. "Sleep well, my judge."
Then he was gone.
Sienna stood alone in the empty courtroom, holding the file that could destroy her, feeling the bond hum under her skin.
Her phone buzzed again. A new message, unknown number:
*278 Ashwood. Don't be late.*
She looked down at the file. At her fake name on a real birth certificate. At the faces of the parents she barely remembered.
And at the note in Kael's handwriting, still clipped to the back:
*Or I tell the council who you