23. Chapter 23 #2
“It pulled at me. Not my skin. Not exactly. Deeper than that. Like something was trying to grab the part of me that knew Nikolay was mine and rip it out by the roots.”
The truth spell shivered under the floor. My own hand tightened around the pen before I made it relax.
“Were you frightened?”
“Yes.”
“Did you believe the ritual might succeed?”
Her eyes found mine. “For a minute, yes.”
“What did you do?”
“I screamed for Nikolay.”
Across the chamber, Nikolay went utterly still. I did not turn toward him. Maddie did.
Her face changed when she looked at him. The chamber could see it. I wanted them to. Whatever else Nikolay had been—coward, fool, arrogant prince with centuries of bad habits wearing fine tailoring—he was the man whose name she screamed when her soul was being pulled apart.
“Why did you scream for him?” I asked.
“Because I could feel him.”
“Through the mate bond?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Close. Getting closer. I knew he was near.”
“What happened after you screamed his name?”
Maddie’s gaze moved back to me, and the warmth vanished. “Sage hit me.”
Even after Sloan’s testimony, hearing Maddie say it herself changed the room. Sloan had told what she had seen. Maddie told what she had endured. The difference mattered.
“How did he hit you?”
“Open hand. Across the face. Hard enough, my head snapped sideways. My mouth filled with blood.”
“Did he say anything?”
“Yes.”
“Please tell the Council exactly what he said.”
Maddie drew herself taller on the witness stand. When she spoke, her voice was not Sage’s. She did not perform him. She simply delivered his words into the record and let them rot there.
“He said, ‘Do not mention that bloodsucker’s name in this sacred space.’”
The word bloodsucker hit the chamber like spit on marble.
I felt several vampires in the gallery grow colder. Not angry in the obvious way. Older than that. Offense in supernatural court had layers, and Sage’s insult, spoken while his handprint still marked a bound woman’s face, revealed more than contempt. It revealed ideology stripped of polish.
“After he struck you,” I said, “what did you feel through the bond?”
Maddie’s hands trembled once against the stand. She did not hide it.
“Rage.”
“Prince Nikolay’s rage?”
“Yes.”
“What else?”
“He was closer. I could feel him coming. Stronger every second.” Her eyes grew bright, but no tears fell. “And I felt hope.”
“What did you do then?”
“I went still.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew he was coming, and I knew if I panicked, Sage might do something worse before Nikolay reached me.” She looked straight at the Council. “So I waited.”
I gave the chamber one breath to absorb that.
Then I asked, “Did Prince Nikolay arrive?”
“Yes.”
“Tell us how he entered the clearing.”
Maddie’s mouth parted slightly, as if the memory took up more room than she expected.
“He came through the trees.” Her voice had softened, but not weakened. “Measured. Controlled. Step by step. He didn’t lunge for me, even though I could feel that every part of him wanted to.”
Nikolay’s head lifted.
“Could you feel his intention through the bond?”
“Yes.”
“What did you feel?”
“He wanted to tear the altar apart. Tear Sage apart. Get me free.” Her throat moved. “But he didn’t. He looked at me first.”
“And what did you do?”
“I guided him.”
The prosecution shifted sharply.
I turned my head just enough to see whether he intended to object. He did not. Good.
“How?” I asked.
“With my eyes. With what I could push through the bond.” Maddie’s fingers pressed into the wood. “I needed him to understand Sage had a knife and that the witch still had her spell in me. If he rushed wrong, I didn’t know what would happen.”
“What was the witch doing when Prince Nikolay arrived?”
“She seemed rattled.”
“In what way?”
“She stumbled over the chant. Her hands stopped moving right.” Maddie frowned slightly, searching memory carefully rather than decorating it.
The truth spell rewarded exactness with silence.
“Whatever she had been doing got interrupted even before Nikolay came close. Something loosened inside my chest. Like I could breathe again.”
“Where was Sage Lynch?”
“Standing over me.”
“Was he armed?”
“Yes.”
“With what?”
“A knife.”
“Did you want Prince Nikolay to rush the altar?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Maddie’s eyes flashed. “Because I thought Sage had reached the point where, if he couldn’t have me, he damn sure wasn’t going to let a vampire have me.”
The chamber fell into a heavy silence.
There were truths that did not require legal vocabulary. Any woman who had survived a certain kind of man knew the shape of that sentence. Possession did not always want to keep. Sometimes it wanted to destroy so no one else could hold what it had decided to own.
“What did Prince Nikolay do when you warned him back?”
“He stepped away from the altar.”
“Toward Sage?”
“No. Away. He put space between Sage and me.”
“Did he attack Sage Lynch then?”
“No.”
“What did he do?”
“He talked.”
That answer, simple as it was, nearly broke something in the prosecution’s case all by itself.
“Tell the Council what you remember him saying.”
Maddie took a breath. “He called Sage a coward.”
A flicker moved through Ironwood’s gallery.
I asked, “Anything else?”
“He said Sage had dressed his cowardice in words like purity and heritage.” Her mouth tightened. “He said Sage wanted to call it tradition because tradition sounded prettier than theft.”
Nikolay’s eyes had fixed on her.
“Did those words draw Sage away from the altar?”
“Yes.”
“How did Sage respond?”
“He got angry.”
“Was he already angry before Prince Nikolay arrived?”
“Yes.”
“But did his anger increase?”
“Yes.”
“What did Prince Nikolay say that caused Sage to lose control?”
Maddie’s gaze dropped for half a second, then lifted. “He called him out for touching another man’s mate.”
The truth spell hummed.
“What happened then?”
“Sage shifted.”
“Into wolf form?”
“Yes.”
“Did Prince Nikolay strike him before Sage shifted?”
“No.”
“Did Prince Nikolay lunge at Sage first?”
“No.”
“What did Sage do after shifting?”
“He lunged at Nikolay.”
“And what did Prince Nikolay do?”
Maddie’s voice became very quiet. “He defended himself.”
There it was. Not grand. Not theatrical. Not an excuse. A fact.
“Could Prince Nikolay have safely retreated and left you on the altar?”
“No.”
“Could he have ignored Sage’s attack?”
“No.”
“Had Sage Lynch remained in control and released you, would Prince Nikolay have needed to use lethal force?”
“No.”
I allowed the silence to do the work no closing argument could yet do.
Then I asked, “What happened after Sage lunged and Prince Nikolay defended himself?”
“The clearing filled with wolves and vampires.” Maddie blinked once, and something like relief crossed her face even now. “Iron Valor. Nikolay’s family. Everyone moved fast. Ironwood was subdued quickly.”
“Were you freed?”
“Yes.”
“By whom?”
“My brother.”
Her voice cracked on those two words. Only those.
“Bronc Baucaum?”
“Yes.” She looked toward the gallery. This time she did not resist it. Bronc stood like a mountain under storm light, and when his sister’s eyes found him, his face changed with such naked tenderness that the chamber had the decency to look less hungry for one breath. “He got me off the altar.”
“And after that?”
Maddie looked back at me.
The tears still had not fallen. I suspected they would not, not in this room. Some women saved tears for places that had earned them.
“And that’s how it ended,” she said.
I crossed from the lectern to the witness stand.
I rested my hand briefly over hers. Not long enough to be indulgent. Long enough to be human, whatever else I had become.
“Thank you, Maddie.”
Her fingers turned under mine for the smallest squeeze.
I stepped back.
“No further questions.”
The chamber breathed again.
The Magistrate turned his gaze toward the prosecution. “Cross-examination?”
The prosecution counsel rose slowly.
He had lost the smoothness he began with, but not all of it. Men like him rarely abandoned polish.
“Yes, Honored Magistrate.”
He approached the lectern, arranging his papers, though there was no need. His eyes moved over Maddie with professional caution. He had watched her testimony. He knew she was not the easy witness his theory required.
“Miss Baucaum,” he began, “you drove yourself to Ironwood territory, correct?”
“Yes.”
“No one forced you into the car?”
“No.”
“No one held a weapon to you and made you cross the boundary?”
“No.”
“You attended voluntarily.”
“I attended the moonlight run voluntarily.”
A slight pause.
He smiled faintly. “That was not my question.”
“It’s my answer.”
The truth spell remained quiet.
A murmur threatened the gallery and died beneath the Magistrate’s stare.
The counsel’s smile thinned. “You ate with Ironwood wolves.”
“Yes.”
“You drank with them.”
“Yes.”
“You ran with them.”
“Yes.”
“You enjoyed yourself.”
“At first.”
“At first,” he repeated. “You considered Sloan Lynch a friend.”
“Yes.”
“You spent time with Sage Lynch.”
“Yes.”
“You rode horses with him.”
“Yes.”
“Alone?”
“With horses, counselor.”
A sound cracked from somewhere near Iron Valor and was immediately swallowed. I looked down at my notes to hide my mouth.
The prosecution did not appreciate the distinction.
“You were not distressed during that ride, were you?”
“Not in a way I understood yet.”
“That is convenient in hindsight.”
I stood. “Objection.”
The Magistrate’s eyes shifted to me.
“Argumentative.”
“Sustained,” the Magistrate said. “Counsel will ask questions.”
The prosecutor inclined his head stiffly. “Of course.”
He turned back to Maddie. “You agreed to remain for the Black Harvest Moon Festival.”
“I agreed to stay because I believed I was among friends.”
“But you agreed.”
“Yes.”
“Nobody forced you to stay.”
“I was manipulated into staying.”
“I asked whether anyone forced you.”