Chapter 33 · The Wolves Below

"You can't go down there." Kael dragged me back from the courtroom entrance. The floor cracked wider, splitting marble like it was rotting wood.

"He has my blood." I twisted free. "On his hands. If the tower reads it—"

"Then it reads it." His grip shifted to my wrist, tight enough I felt his pulse or mine. "You're not diving into that hole for him."

"Not for him." I yanked, didn't break loose. "For the proof. He's got the real massacre files. If he dies down there with them—"

The crack yawned wider. Cold air rushed up, smelling like wet stone and old blood. Somewhere below, something howled. Not a wolf. Older.

"Sienna." Kael turned me around, both hands on my shoulders now. "Listen to me. You just tore apart a blood-sealed verdict in front of every council witness still breathing. You won. We won. Don't throw it away for paper."

"It's not paper." My voice came out hoarse. "It's fifteen years of names. Everyone who died. Everyone who covered it up. If that's gone—"

Another howl, closer. The courtroom lights flickered. Behind us, Leah stumbled through the archive door, her face white.

"The tower's awake," she said.