Anger, like I haven’t felt in years, rises from the depths of me. It burns like acid, twisting and turning inside me, wanting to gush from every pore. I close my eyes, trying to calm the rage wanting to consume me.

I open them just as a small glint by the bookshelves catches my eye, a wisp of magic moving through the books, an idea coming to me instantly.

I take another breath and feel for the magic in the Library, the Autarium's magic.

I reach toward the small bond, hoping it will listen to my request. Something I’d never thought of or tried before. I push my thoughts and feelings toward our connection, hoping it will help this once.

Suddenly the room begins to shake and rumble, the people in the room shouting seconds ago, now scared and silent, as the magic continues its show.

A small smile tilts my lips as a wisp of magic forms by my side and slides down my hand before slowly trailing into the floor below me.

Thank you, I push through our connection, the rumble becoming louder as the room erupts into further chaos. The groups now huddled together in fear, wailing and shouting about an attack.

Their gasps and screams ringing out too loud for me.

I raise a hand into the air to pull their attention to me, and the shaking and rumbling around the building stop immediately.

The group falls silent, their eyes wide as they stare toward me.

“You’re all wrong.” I glare at each of them. “Jace is innocent.”

With this, I look to Jace, a small smile tilting his lips as he watches me.

The elderly pixie man shakily raises his hand. I raise a brow, a smirk forming across my lips.

Well, fear was also a kind of solution. I nod to him.

“But how do we know he’s innocent? We don’t want to be in the same room as him.” I give him a hard glare.

“I-I mean, the traitor,” he corrects himself, his eyes downcast as he fiddles with a brown paisley tie around his neck. “B-because—”

“Here’s your proof.” Lucien throws the still-deformed body of Gregori into the center of the group.

They scream and scatter, appalled by the grotesque form in front of them.

“W-What…What is that?!” Aileen shouts from behind a table furthest from her old comrade.

Funny. She was the first to point her bony finger toward Jace, so quick to accuse my poor wolf. But it was actually her crony who was the real traitor.

A dark smirk coats my lips as Lucien continues, my eyes glued to Aileen and her pallid face.

“That would be Gregori, our traitor.” Lucien cleans his nails, his face already tired of the conversation.

“T-That’s not Gregori! How could that thing be Gregori!” sputters another from the Third Sector group.

Just as the man protests, another pained howl breaks loose from Gregori’s mouth, drawing attention from the group and toward a dark chain hanging from the beast’s neck.