Riley's POV The moment Lucien's voice rang out, the entire banquet hall plunged into a stunned silence, followed by hushed gasps and murmurs. The accusation hit like a thunderclap. Theft. In pack law, that wasn't a light offense-it was a serious crime, especially when the stolen item was considered a rare lunar heirloom. Minimum punishment? Three cycles in confinement. Maximum? Ten. Maybe more, if the Alpha decided to press the full weight of the Tribunal's wrath. And this wasn't just any stolen object. It was the Moonthread Tapestry. My Moonthread Tapestry. The piece I had poured over three moon cycles into-spinning silver-dusted threads under moonlight, weaving each sacred glyph by hand, infusing every stitch with the traditions of our lost northern line. It wasn't just art. It was history. Memory. My pain turned into something beautiful. And Scarlett had torn it apart like it was nothing but a curtain. Whispers rippled through the hall. Every gaze flicked to Scarlett-formerly so proud, now bald and shaking on her knees beside Ronan Duskcliff. Her wide, hollow eyes betrayed the same thing everyone else was beginning to realize. This wasn't just humiliation anymore. This was justice. Scarlett's lips parted in disbelief. She looked ready to faint. I could practically feel her mind spiraling into panic-probably picturing the cold cells beneath the Tribunal's barracks, the scent of rusted chains, and the hollow-eyed criminals who never came back the same. She should be afraid. I know I had been. Her body jerked violently, trying to twist away from the enforcers flanking her, but they didn't even flinch. They'd pinned rogues stronger than her without breaking a sweat."No! Please!" she screamed, her voice raw with desperation. "I wasn't trying to hurt anyone-I didn't know it was hers! I can pay for it! My parents-they'll send gold right now! Please, Alpha, I beg you!" Tears streamed down her face, streaking through the dirt and shame. But Lucien... Lucien didn't even blink. Instead, he turned to me. And just like that-his expression softened. The sharp, cold steel of his anger melted into something warm. Gentle. Like he could fold the whole world into his hands if I asked him to. He looked at me as if I was the only one in the room. "As you wish, moonflower," he said quietly, just for me. "Is this justice enough?" My throat tightened. I stared up at him, heart twisting. He hadn't done this for politics. Not for power. He did it for me. To erase the echoes of what I had lost-those five miserable years stolen from me when I'd been locked away, falsely accused of the very crimes Scarlett had orchestrated. She'd watched me get dragged out in front of all our so-called family and laughed behind her dainty hand. While I screamed my innocence, she flourished. Now she was the one in chains. Now she was the one begging. And yet-I didn't smile. I just nodded, voice barely a whisper, trembling with emotion. "...Yes." A single word. But it carried everything I felt. The pain. The relief. The vindication. Lucien turned back without another glance at her.Beside her, Ronan Duskcliff had been glaring at me this whole time-his eyes bulging with fury and disbelief, as if he couldn't understand how I could stand there and let this happen to his precious Scarlett. He tried to speak-tried to curse, maybe-but the cloth stuffed in his mouth made his words a muffled mess. "Mmrrph! Mmm! Mhhmm!" He writhed, eyes wild, sweat beading on his brow. Two guards struggled to keep him still. Lucien's assistant, Elias, looked down at him with clear annoyance. No sympathy. No hesitation. Without a word, he lifted a boot and slammed it straight into Ronan's abdomen. Ronan's body folded with a grunt, curling like a wounded pup. He gasped for air, eyes rolling back for a moment. I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. Lucien moved next, stepping toward him like a shadow descending. His polished black boots clicked against the marble floor as he stopped before Ronan, then slowly raised his foot and hooked it under Ronan's chin-lifting it just enough to force eye contact. "Svarlett thought herself clever," Lucien said coldly. "And you stood with her. You'll follow her into the cells." Ronan's pupils shrank to pinpricks. His entire body began to tremble. Coward. He wasn't shaking like that five years ago when I begged him to listen. When I pleaded for him to believe I hadn't pushed Scarlett down the stairs. When I cried, screaming that she had framed me, and he looked me in the eye and chose her anyway. He didn't flinch then. But now? Now he was pathetic. Good. Let him rot.Let him understand what it means to be voiceless. Powerless. Alone. A ripple passed through me, like something old and bitter finally being laid to rest. The doors to the hall creaked open, and the Lycan Enforcers arrived at last. Dressed in sleek black leather, armed with lunar-etched restraints and icy efficiency, they spoke only briefly with Lucien before striding forward. Their leader, a broad-shouldered male with Tribunal sigils across his shoulders, gave a short nod. Then they pulled Scarlett and Ronan to their feet and locked the cuffs around their wrists. "No! No, please!" Scarlett sobbed as she kicked her legs and twisted like a snared rabbit. "I'll do anything! Don't let them take me-Riley, please! Please say something! I'm your sister!" Sister? No. Not anymore. She had burned that bridge the moment she framed me. Her wails echoed as she was dragged across the floor, heels scraping like a child refusing bedtime. I stood there, rooted, unmoving, as the chaos melted into silence. For a moment, all I could think about... was then. Five years ago. Another banquet. Another crowd of nobles too eager to watch someone fall. That time, I had been the one shackled. The one yelling, "It wasn't me! It was Scarlett!" I remembered the sting of my mother's slap-the sound still thundered in my memory. "You evil thing," she'd screamed. "Framing your own sister like that. We saw you do it. Me and your father both." I remember how Scarlett had stood behind her, wearing the same wide-eyed innocence she always weaponized. The same smirk curling her lips when no one else was looking. Now the smirk was gone. And for the first time in years... I felt clean.I exhaled slowly, letting the moment soak into my skin. Lucien came to stand beside me, his hand brushing mine. "I told you," he murmured. "No one hurts you and walks away." I looked up at him-my shield, my justice-and finally allowed myself to smile.