“No,” I said, my tone pure ice. “You don’t understand.”

Prisha blinked at me before glancing back at the tribunal, her worry evident. “Declan—”

I managed to relax enough to unclench my jaw. “If you’re already talking punishment, then you’ve already decided that Lou is guilty. That’s not fair or just.” When she tried to speak again, I growled. “I know you think you have a handle on the situation, but you don’t have the faintest clue. I’m sorry, I’m sure you’re educated and very competent in your field, but in this particular case, you don’t know shit.”

“Declan.” Lou said my name softly—a warning? Comfort? I wasn’t sure.

“No, listen. Just give me a damn minute.” I stared every Tribunal judge in the eye. “You think I don’t understand the situation? Lou performed an illegal binding. It’s illegal because animal mages are forbidden to bind ‘higher’ lifeforms as familiars. In Uncanny terms, that means no minotaurs, no shifters, no hinds, and definitely no other humans. It’s seen as a form of mental assault.” I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “If you want, I can quote the number and article of the law she violated last night.” Please don’t make me explain beyond that.

Again, the Tribunal looked at each other. Patrice, the water elementist, cleared her throat. “You did your homework this morning and looked everything up? That’s nice, but knowing the letter of the law and understanding what has actually happened to you is not the same thing.”

I laughed and it was not a good sound. “You consider me a victim, but you dismiss my feelings out of hand? Oh, right, because Lou might be controlling me. I could be her little puppet right now.” I bared my teeth in a smile.

When a wolf smiles, it’s a threat.

I turned to Lou. She wasn’t even looking at the tribunal anymore. She was staring at me. No pity, only concern. The tight fist in my chest loosened. I thought about the room full of people behind me. Lou’s family, who’d been so kind to me. Offering me work, food, and acceptance. Trick literally taking me in.

People take that for granted, but once you’ve lost your community, once you know how quickly it can be ripped away, that knowledge never leaves you. You knew how much of a gift it was, how fragile it could be, too. I thought, briefly, about ordering the audience removed from the proceedings. It was my right. But as much as I didn’t want their pity, I also didn’t want to keep this secret from them.

It wasn’t their business, of course, but my past would drive a wedge between us. No matter what, I’d lost my fresh start. But I was suddenly so tired of secrets. Of their hold on me. I rubbed a hand over my face. “I want everyone in this room to sign an NDA saying they won’t speak a word of this without my permission. Not to their friends, the media, no one.”