Chapter Thirty-Two – The Trial – Part Two #2
The silence in the courtroom is absolute.
The DA clears his throat. “No further questions.”
Judge Conway’s voice cuts in, steady. “You may step down, Doctor Larsen. ”
Jo rises and walks quietly back through the same door she came in.
Renner leans toward us, his voice low. “You’re next.”
I glance toward the door Jo just exited, her scent still in the air. Jay shifts beside me, flexing his fingers. Shane exhales slowly.
Judge Conway glances toward the defense table. “Mr. Renner, do you have additional witnesses?”
“Yes, Your Honor. The defense calls the Larsen pack to the stand.”
The Judge nods once. “Court officer, prepare the stand for a pack testimony.”
The staff moves quickly. The enclosed witness box is removed entirely. Three chairs are arranged side by side facing the jury. Microphones are brought in. The courtroom quiets, watching.
We stand together, and every juror’s eyes follow us as we move.
We squeeze ourselves into the little human chairs. Jay takes the middle seat, with me and Shane on either side of him.
The bailiff steps forward. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”
“Yes,” we answer in unison.
Renner steps closer, standing just a few feet in front of us. “Mr. Jayson Larsen, why did you strike Mr. Knolson?”
“He was approaching our mate, and I believed he was going to touch her.”
“Did you use excessive force?”
Jay shakes his head. “No.”
Renner nods. “Pack leader Kory, what did you observe in that moment?”
“He was moving toward Jo,” I say. “I was about to step in, Jay just got there first.”
Renner turns. “Shane?”
“If Jay hadn’t stopped him, I would have,” Shane answers.
“You’re aegis. Big, strong. If your intent was to punish Luc, could the three of you do more than one punch?”
“Of course,” I say.
“So let’s be clear: if your intent had been to harm Mr. Knolson… would one punch from one of you have been where it ended?”
“No,” I reply again.
“He wouldn’t have left with just a swollen face,” Shane adds.
Renner looks at me again. “So why did you stop after Jayson threw one punch at Mr. Knolson?”
“Because we only wanted him to stop going after Jo,” I answer. “Jay took care of it. We didn’t want anything more.”
Renner lets the silence stretch, pacing once. Then stops. “You are trained law enforcement officers. Have you been trained in restraint techniques?”
“Yes,” I answer .
“Why didn’t you use them?”
Jay answers this time. “We weren’t in a tactical stance. This wasn’t a planned operation, it was a split-second reaction. He was already within reach of Jo.”
“And in that second?”
“I chose the fastest way to stop him,” Jay says.
Renner steps forward, his gaze flicking between us and the jury. “You’ve heard the prosecution say that since Mr. Knolson is smaller than you, he couldn’t defend himself. Do you agree with that?”
“No,” Shane says. “He’s smaller and weaker compared to us, but he wasn’t targeting us. He was going toward our mate, and he’s not smaller or weaker than her.”
“No further questions.”
He returns to the defense table.
The DA rises and steps forward. “Mr. Jayson Larsen, you said you struck Mr. Knolson to protect your mate. That you believed he was going to hurt her. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” Jay answers.
“Did Mr. Knolson say anything indicating he intended to harm Johane Larsen? Did he verbally threaten her?”
“No.”
The DA nods once, then continues. “Let’s consider some scenarios. Mr. Knolson walks toward Johane Larsen and, once close, simply says something to her, nothing more. Or perhaps he realizes his mistake and stops before doing anything. How could you possibly know what was going to happen?”
Renner rises. “Objection. Calls for speculation.”
“Sustained,” Judge Conway says.
The DA sighs. “Mr. Jayson Larsen, how did you know that Mr. Knolson intended to harm Johane Larsen?”
Jay’s expression is calm, but I can see the fury in his eyes. “Are you saying a man who talks about a woman as if she were a dog and says he wants some of her pussy juice walks toward her with innocent intentions?”
“You didn’t answer my question, Mr. Larsen. How could you be absolutely certain he was going to harm her?”
“If a man points a gun to your head, would you want us to remove the threat or wait to be absolutely sure he wouldn’t realize his mistake before shooting your brains out? Of course I responded considering he could harm her.”
The DA turns toward the jury again. “Three aegis. One human man. And not one of you tried to hold him back. You didn’t even speak to him.”
“My brother had already told him to leave,” I say. “He ignored him.”
“You’re officers. You know better. You know what your strength means. Your responsibility. And you still struck him.”
He paces again. The tension in the jury box is visible now. One man scribbles something. A woman presses her lips together and stares at her lap.
“You acted on instinct,” the DA says. “Not law.”
“Objection,” Renner says, rising again. “Improper argument. That’s testimony.”
The judge lifts her hand slightly. “Sustained. Stick to the facts, Counselor.”
He looks at the jury. “No further questions.”
He turns and walks back to the prosecution table.
Judge Conway nods once toward us. “You may return to your seats.”
We stand and head back to the defense table.
The Judge addresses the courtroom: “Are there any additional witnesses?”
Renner rises. “No, Your Honor. The defense rests.”
Conway nods. “Very well. We’ll proceed to closing arguments.”
The courtroom shifts again, quiet tension replacing movement. The jury sits up straighter, a few shuffling their notes.
The DA steps forward. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” he begins, “I want to remind you what this case is about: an unarmed human was left unconscious in a backyard. His face broken. His dignity stripped. Three aegis, each stronger than any human, stood over him.”
He points toward the defense table. “They tell you it was instinct. But instinct is not the law. They say it was love. But love is not immunity. They made a choice. And that choice put a man in the hospital.”
He pauses. “This trial isn’t about instincts.
It’s about accountability. It’s about the fundamental right of every human to be protected by the law from harm.
It’s about sending a clear message: that no matter how strong someone is, they don’t get to hurt someone weaker just because they think they can. ”
He returns to his table.
Renner rises. He walks to the center of the room, facing the jury. “What you’ve heard from the prosecution is fear, not law. They want you to see three aegis and assume violence. They want you to see strength and assume guilt. But I want you to see the facts.”
He raises a hand, ticking off his fingers. “Fact: Luc Knolson was intoxicated. Fact: he made repeated, graphic, sexual comments. Fact: he was told to leave. Fact: he returned, and moved toward the woman he had just humiliated in front of her friends and neighbors.”
He lowers his hand. “And yes, fact: Jayson Larsen stopped him.”
“I ask you to put yourselves in their position. If someone spoke about your wife, your daughter, your sister like that, and then went for her, would you want the law to tell you that you had no right to stop them?”
He returns to his seat.
Judge Conway sits forward. “Members of the jury, you are now instructed to deliberate based solely on the evidence presented. You must set aside emotion, opinion, and bias. The burden of proof lies with the State. If that burden has not been met beyond a reasonable doubt, you must find the defendants not guilty. You may now retire to the jury room.”
The bailiff leads them out.
Finally, The Judge says, “This court is in recess until the jury reaches a verdict.”
Renner leads us to a small conference room down the hall. A minute later, Jayme walks in with Alice, Jo, and her uncles.
She launches forward, and Shane catches her first. Jay and I lean in right after, wrapping our arms around her. It’s only now, completely surrounded by my brothers, with Jo in the middle of us, that I let myself feel everything that happened.
The fear. The rage. The sadness. The hope.
I have no idea how the jury saw us. Renner made a solid closing, but so did the prosecution. We were shown in both light and shadow, protectors and monsters in turns. It’s nerve-wracking.
There’s a clock on the wall, but I don’t look at it. If I do, I’ll start counting minutes, and I’ll lose my mind.
Jayme said the average time for a verdict on this kind of charge is anywhere between two to eight hours, so I can’t think about time. I won’t.
Alice orders food for all of us, but when it gets delivered, no one touches it.
Jo’s uncles sit a little apart from the lawyers and Alice, quiet the whole time. I catch them exchanging looks, nothing said, just the silent communication every pack knows by instinct. A whole conversation, wordless.
At first, we act like the humans: pacing, fidgeting, shifting in our chairs.
But eventually, without meaning to, we end up falling into the most traditional position a mated pack can assume. I saw my dads sit this way with Lydia dozens of times: the nyra curled on an aegis’s lap, the other two folded over her.
It’s strange when I notice it, because we’ve never done this before.
I sit on the floor because it’s more comfortable than the human chairs.
Jo settles in my lap, her head resting against my chest. Jay leans in from behind her, pressing his chest to her back and resting his head on her shoulder.
Shane folds in from the other side, curling up with his head in Jo’s lap.
The four of us, a tight unit. Perfectly complete.
I hear Jayme, Renner, and Alice talking in soft voices, sometimes stepping out, sometimes returning. The door opening and closing again. None of it matters. Nothing matters but this. Us.
After we found out a powerful criminal network had used its influence to switch judges, just to make sure we got convicted, I spent a lot of time telling myself I could handle it. That I could take what was coming.
Being separated from Jo. From our home. From this life we’ve built.
But now I know I was lying to myself .
I’ll survive if I have to. But surviving isn’t the same as handling it. I want to go home with her and my brothers. Today.
I want to ask for a transfer and get the hell out of this city. Never look back. Never speak Aranya’s name again. Never let Jo be in danger again. Never see Luc Knolson’s face again. I want to rebuild everything. From scratch.
We stay like this in silence, I don’t know how long, until Alice asks, soft and uncertain: “The jury’s been in there for how long?”
It’s Renner who answers. “Four hours.”
I focus on Jo’s lily scent. Breathe it in, deep. Exhale it out, slow. Repeat.
Then, the room’s door opens. I look at it in time to see a woman stepping in. Courthouse staff with a clipboard in hand.
“The jury has reached a verdict. The court is reconvening. You’re asked to return to the courtroom now.”
Jo’s uncles rise quietly, first to their feet. Then Jayme stands and steps over. He thanks the woman in a low voice; she nods and walks out without another word.
Jay pulls back from us, and Shane lifts his head from Jo’s lap, rubbing his face hard. I shift, guiding Jo off my lap so I can rise. She doesn’t speak, but her fingers close around the pendant resting against her chest.
Alice gives her a quick squeeze on the arm. Jayme straightens his suit. Renner holds the door open for us.
We walk out in silence.
The hallway is buzzing. Reporters are back, despite cameras not being allowed. We ignore it all.
Jayme leads the way through the front; Renner walks slightly behind.
We enter the courtroom. The judge hasn’t returned yet, nor has the jury. We take our seats at the defense table, and Jo moves to the row behind us.
We wait.
And then, the bailiff steps to the side door. “All rise.”
The courtroom hushes in an instant, and everyone stands. Judge Conway enters, black robe flowing behind her.
She takes her seat. “Please be seated,” she says.
Once the room settles, she looks toward the bailiff. “Bring in the jury.”
The doors open, and the jurors file in quietly. They take their seats in the jury box, most of them avoiding our eyes. The foreperson sits in the front row, holding a sealed envelope in her hands.
Judge Conway waits until they’re settled, then nods once at the foreperson.
“Madam Foreperson, has the jury reached a unanimous verdict?”
The foreperson stands. “We have, Your Honor.”
She steps forward and gives the envelope to the bailiff, who passes it to the judge. Judge Conway reads it silently, her expression unreadable. Then she hands it back .
“Will the defendants please rise.”
We stand. My mouth is dry.
“Madam Foreperson, please read the verdict.”
The foreperson opens the paper. “On the charge of misdemeanor assault, we the jury find the defendants not guilty.”
The words don’t register at first. They hit like static.
I hear Jo’s soft gasp behind us. Shane’s hand grips my shoulder. Jay exhales like he’s coming up from underwater.
Judge Conway speaks again, but I don’t catch all of it, something about discharging the jury, thanking them for their service, reminding the gallery to maintain decorum.
The gavel drops once. It’s over.
We can go home.