Chapter Thirty-One – The Trial – Part One
The Trial - Part One
O nce we’re done handling Jo’s residency stuff, there’s nothing left but to wait.
We spend all our time with her, drowning in her scent, her soft skin, her smile, her voice. We cook together. We watch basketball games. We even mess around with the hoop in the backyard.
At first, she can’t even hit the backboard, let alone the rim. But as the days go by, she gets better, until finally, she sinks one clean through the basket. Her celebration is amazing. She screams and jumps like she just won the finals, laughing so hard she falls on the grass.
We spend a full day at Quassy Amusement in Middlebury again. Jo makes us ride the wooden rollercoaster twice, even though it rattles so hard I think I might lose a tooth. We eat corn dogs and fried dough, share a giant soda, and get soaked on the log flume.
On Wednesday night, we drive to Bridgeport for an Islanders game. We scream every time Jo screams. Her voice is completely shot by the time we get home, and she still won’t stop talking about the last goal.
We have sex every night, falling asleep in the early hours, wrecked and tangled, drenched in pleasure and warmth.
We love her. As much as we can, in every way we know how.
We don’t talk about the trial. But Aranya never lets us forget it. We’re watched constantly. Every time we glance outside, there’s a car parked somewhere along the street, different model, different make, but always the same too-dark windows, the kind you can’t see through, no matter the light.
Twice, I wrote down the plates, called Fontes and asked if he could run them for me. Both times, the plate didn’t match the vehicle. Cloned plates.
It fucking guts me to say it, but Aranya won.
He made us stop. Completely. Even knowing there’s some fucker linked to him watching us, all we do is quietly document.
We log dates, times, car descriptions, plates.
We don’t take photos, we don’t give them any reason to consider us a threat. No provocation.
When we went to Bridgeport for the hockey game, and again when we went to Middlebury for the amusement park, we were followed. My brothers and I clocked the car both times, but we didn’t tell Jo. No point scaring her when there’s nothing we can do.
The pressure isn’t only coming from tinted windows and quiet tails. As the trial day approaches, we become a hot topic .
At first, it’s just passing mentions on local news programs. The headlines frame it like a David and Goliath story: big, bad aegis assaulting a defenseless human.
But things escalate fast. A week before the trial, we hit national morning news. Every kind of so-called specialist gets a segment: political analysts, lawyers focused on aegis rights, human rights advocates, and equity activists from both sides. The debate turns heated, personal.
Someone even digs deep enough to find out we were strays.
“It’s not fair to generalize all packs,” one commentator says. “This isn’t a normal pack. These aegis are an experiment. Their pack was artificially manufactured by a Research Program.”
That clip runs on repeat for two days.
The press goes wild after that, and we start getting calls and emails from journalists. Following Jayme and Renner’s advice, we keep it short: “We are not making public statements at this time.” Then we hang up. Block the number. Repeat.
Three days before the trial, reporters show up at our house. We try to ignore them, but sometimes it’s impossible. One morning, Shane’s taking out the trash when a reporter ambushes him on our front lawn.
“Agent Larsen, do you think hitting a human was justified?”
I hear Shane’s voice from the living room, low and dangerous. “Get off my property. Final warning.”
Bree Sorensen, on the other hand, is having the time of her life.
I’m pretty sure she approached the press herself; how else would they know she was willing to talk?
She gives a dozen interviews to nearly every channel.
Talks like she knows us, painting us as feral and Jo as some kind of nymphomaniac.
It makes me so mad I call Jayme, ready to make a public statement. But he strongly advises against it, so we clench our teeth and take it.
The day before the trial, Bree’s right outside our house giving another interview when we leave for Bridgeport Airport to pick up Jo’s uncles.
I squeeze into the front seat of the F-150 with Jo while Shane and Jay take the Bronco, so we can split her uncles’ pack between both cars.
We’re followed again the whole way, different car this time.
Her uncles hug her tight when they see her, all three at once, then shake our hands with firm grips.
They’re serious. I can’t tell if that’s just who they are or if it’s the looming trial, the chance we might be arrested tomorrow.
Still, they talk a little, at least with Jo.
“We wish you weren’t going through this, kid,” says Jean, the pack leader, from the back seat as I drive. “But at least you’ll be with us. My folks would get to spend a few more days with their granddaughter.”
As they talk, I catch sight of the same car trailing us. When we arrive back home, it parks across the street, two houses down.
Jo’s uncles sleep in our sleeping bags in her office. As soon as we say good night to them and close the door to our room, we’re on her, our chests humming so loud I’m sure her uncles can hear it. Jo is just as hungry, her spiced scent burning down my throat like fire.
We undress her so fast she loses her balance, but Shane catches her before she can fall into the nest. His eyes are already dark, rut hitting him hard even though he’s barely touched her yet.
She drops to her knees, back arching, Shane’s cock brushing her ass as it twitches. Jay and I kneel in front of her, each of us kissing one side of her neck, her shoulders, one of her breasts, while she wraps her hands around our cocks, stroking us with eager fingers.
Shane slams into her in one brutal thrust, and I see the strain in her face as she fights to stay silent.
I reach down between her legs, rubbing her clit in slow, teasing circles, watching her body tremble and her expression tighten as she tries not to cry out.
My world shrinks to her: her scent, the softness of her skin, the pressure of her hand on my cock, the way pleasure coils higher with every stroke.
She tenses. I feel it in her legs, her hips, the way her breath shortens. She’s close. I press harder, rubbing her clit in tight, fast circles. Shane starts to grunt loudly, lost in rut, but Jay clamps his mouth shut with a firm hand to keep him quiet.
Jo squeezes my cock so tight I nearly lose it, but I breathe deep, forcing myself to focus.
And then, her whole body convulses as she comes, almost completely silent, just a little whimper slipping out. Shane follows her, knotting deep inside with a groan that Jay keeps trapped with his hand.
I keep stroking her through the aftershocks, holding her in place and kissing her until Shane’s knot deflates, and he pulls out. When he collapses in the nest, Jay is behind her in a second, thrusting hard, pupils blown wide.
I can’t wait anymore. I want to be inside her.
“Give me your mouth, love,” I whisper, gripping the base of my cock.
She lowers to all fours and takes me between her lips, hot and wet and perfect. I bite the inside of my cheek to stay quiet as Jay’s thrusts rock her forward, taking me deeper. He reaches around and works her clit again, and I feel the moan she can’t make vibrate around me.
I try to hold still, but I can’t. I thrust gently, matching Jay’s rhythm.
She opens her eyes and looks up at me, those pitch-black eyes full of hunger, and I give in.
My control slips and my hips roll. The pressure builds too fast, but I don’t want to finish like this.
I want all of her, so I force myself to hold back.
I’m already losing the battle when she breaks again, her body jerking as another orgasm hits.
Jay follows, shaking silently as he knots her.
I stay frozen, every nerve on fire, and mercifully, she freezes too, mouth going still around me, eyes closing and back arching as Jay spends himself inside her.
When his knot finally softens and he eases out, I lift her and lay her on her back in the nest. Then I let the rut take me, sinking into the fog of pleasure. I slip my hands under her hips, tilt her just right, and drive into her in one deep motion, bottoming out and filling her completely.
It’s bliss, pure and raw.
I stay buried in her, breathing her in, feeling her all around me. Then I move, slow at first, then faster, harder.
It doesn’t take long for any of us. As soon as I reach for her clit, she tenses around me.
I kiss her hard as her walls squeeze me, getting tighter and tighter, the pressure at the base of my cock unbearable now.
Then I feel her silent release, her walls fluttering and pulling me even deeper as she shakes beneath me.
My release hits me, all that pressure breaking loose as my knot swells, pleasure crashing through me. We stay like that, kissing through the throbbing knot until I feel blissfully empty and my knot softens enough to slip out.
Jay stands, pulls his shorts on, and slips out to the bathroom. He comes back with tissues and gently cleans her. Shane and I rub her arms, her thighs, watching for any sign she’s overwhelmed.
I wish I could freeze time. Keep her like this: safe, with us.
We curl up around her in the nest, and I fall asleep before the dread of tomorrow can settle back in.
I wake before dawn, before the alarm even buzzes on my phone, but Jo and my brothers are already awake. The three of us cook breakfast while Jo showers. When she comes downstairs, her uncles are with her, dressed and ready to go. We all sit at the table, eating together, a heavy silence over us.