Chapter 147

Chapter 147 - Evidence

Ella

The room erupts with noise, as various reporters cry out, “What evidence!?”

Sinclair nods to the side door, and his father wheels into the room, followed by a group of grief-stricken

she-wolves and my surviving guard. “The evidence is the lives the Prince stole to kidnap Ella, the

widows who don’t even have the ability to lay their husbands to rest because he hid their husband’s

bodies. The children Damon rendered fatherless in pursuit of the throne. The evidence is the eye -

witness testimony of Ella and her guard, of myself and my men when we met Damon to set the

ransom. The evidence is the all- clear chime everyone in the valley heard even though the battle was

still waging on their television screens. The evidence is my father’s paralysis, which was the result of

an attack orchestrated by the King during his own campaign — a strategy he clearly taught his son.”

The door opens again, and a number of shackled rogues are brought into the room, looking furious and

sullen. “The evidence is the rogues Damon hired to attack his own people, whose financial records

show lump sum deposits from off-shore bank accounts just before the battle. It’s even in the Prince’s

inaction when the people he claims to love were under attack. And for anyone who might discard the

testimony of these people for being my allies or in compromised positions, then I offer you the video

footage of the Prince arriving at our hostage meeting, unbeknownst that Ella had already escaped and I

was on my way to find her.”

Sinclair and I move away from the podium to give the room full view of the screen against the back

wall, where a black and white image has suddenly appeared from a projector mounted on the ceiling.

When Sinclair told me that he’d sent a few enforcers to the second ransom meeting to observe the

Prince and notify him of the other man’s movements, he hadn't mentioned that he’d also had them

transmitting footage of the set up to Roger, or that his brother had recorded it. 1’m honestly not sure he

remembered, as chaotic as everything has been, because it wasn’t until Roger offered the footage after

learning about the press conference that he even realized it might be useful as evidence.

As the feed begins to play, a timestamp appears on the bottom corner of the screen, revealing the date

for the audience. The Prince is shown with an army at his back, pacing back and forth in frustration

through what appears to be an abandoned warehouse. “ Where the hell are they?” He demands, “They

should have been here by now!”

“Sinclair’s probably just trying to set up his own perimeter.” His second in command suggests.

“Then why haven’t any of our lookouts sighted him?” Damon hisses. “No, I don’t like it. Something is off

here.”

“You think it’s a trick, or a trap?” The beta inquires, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully.

The Prince stomps his foot. “I told her! I told that dumb bitch he wouldn’t just give up his campaign —

even for his mate. He’s up to something.”

“But what, a rescue? An Ambush?” The other man presses, clearly agitated by his Alpha’s foul mood.

“Maybe both.” The Prince growls. “Move out, and I want eyes on the girl right now, get in touch with the

sentries we posted outside her room.”

The video goes dark as the Prince and his army exit the warehouse, but from the heavy silence in the

room, it seems as though the footage was compelling enough to give our critics pause. I admit I’m

amazed about how damning the scene was, despite being so brief. They actually managed to catch the

Prince referencing Sinclair by name, as well as the ransom. No one might have said my name, but it’s

difficult to find another explanation than the one we’ve provided.

The utter stillness is shattered after a pregnant pause, as all the reporters seem to come back to their

senses at once. They surge to their feet, shouting questions over one each other in such a way that it

makes it impossible to hear. Sinclair leads me back to the podium, pointing towards a man in the front

row.

“Alpha, if there have been other crimes then why haven’t you ever accused the Prince before now?” He

asks eagerly.

“For a long time Damon and I have been caught in a shadow war. I’ve known what the Prince is

capable of for years, which is why I’ve been so devoted to opposing him. Still, it wasn’t until Ella came

on the scene and he realized he might lose that he started to escalate his tactics. My father taught me

that you don’t make accusations of this sort with evidence, and until now, I’ve only had my wolf’s

instincts to rely on. This is the first time I’ve had the proof to bring our war out in the open, but trust me

when I tell you that I haven’t let his offenses go unchecked. My strategy might be different, but I’ve

defended this pack and my family with force when required, and done everything in my power to keep

Moon Valley safe.”

There’s another uproar, and then Sinclair points to another reporter for the next question. “Ella, how did

you escape the Prince? Were you mistreated when you were his captive?”

I'm slightly startled to be addressed directly, but Sinclair gives me an encouraging squeeze. I take a

steadying breath, “The Prince kept me in the Royal Palace, and I was able to contact Dominic through

a dream —”

“Because she’s the cleverest, most resourceful she-wolf I’ve ever met.” Dominic praises me, puffed up

with Alpha pride.

“Not now, Dominic.” I sass, pushing at his scruffy jaw as he tries to kiss me again. He rumbles in

warning and I shiver, sending a wave of laughter through the crowd. “Anyway, I told him where I was

and he explained about emergency evacuation tunnels in the Palace and how to find them. Luckily I

was able to find one in my room, but unfortunately it was incredible long and landed me in the

wilderness very far away - as my mate said.”

I look around at the curious faces before continuing, trying to decide how to explain my new traumas.

“And the worst part about being held hostage came before and after. I was devastated when my guards

were killed... I tried to prevent it, to save them but it didn’t do any good, and after -”

“How?” Someone shouts, “I thought your wolf wasn’t awake yet so how did you defend them?”

I freeze for a moment, and my surviving guard steps up, emotion thick in his voice. “She sacrificed

herself for us, thinking they would stop the attack once they had her. I was only able to get away

because they thought I was dead.”

“We were so outnumbered that I knew there was no chance we could win. I didn’t realize that they only

meant to kidnap me, but I knew my fate was sealed... I figured theirs didn’t have to be, and I was

wrong.” A runaway tear slips from my lashes and I quickly skype it away, trying not to break down in

public. “And after escaping, I kept going as long as I possibly could, but I didn’t have A coat, let alone

my wolf... and eventually I had to make the decision no mother should ever have to contemplate.

Whether to save my own life and end my baby’s, or to let us both die from hypothermia. Nothing the

Prince and Lydia said or did to me could ever compare with that pain.”

I might be imagining it, but I can see nothing but sympathy and admiration in the faces around us, and

then another reporter shouts, “if he’s been attacking your mate, then why not kill him?

What kind of an Alpha would just stand by and let him try again?”

“Because I believe in the rule of law.” Sinclair rumbles, his wolf glowing in his eyes. “Believe me, I

wanted nothing more than to kill him and still do, but if I did I wouldn’t be any better than he is. The

ability not to rashly act on my impulses is what sets the Prince and I apart —”

“That and having a conscience.” I add saucily, earning a wolfish grin from my mate.

“Our system of governance is what allows us to maintain peace in the united packs. It’s the reason we

advanced out of the dark ages, and I'll be damned if I’m going to undermine it with my own personal

vendetta. Some might call that weak, but if you ask me the far weaker move is to target a breeding she-

wolf because you're too spineless to take on your opponent directly.”

Murmurs of agreement travel throughout the room, and I feel my heart leap. This is working — they’re

all so distracted by the Prince’s crimes that no one even seems to care about our lies. Of course, as

soon as I think this, another reporter asks, “Ella, if youdidn’t know you were a shifter, how did you and

the Alpha meet?”

I look up at Sinclair, unsure of whether I should tell the truth. We discussed this beforehand, knowing

the question might come up, but we hadn’t reached a solution. Instead we decided to decide based on

the feeling in the room, and now here we are. If I tell the truth it could unravel this whole thing, but if I lie

it could backfire and dig us into even deeper trouble.

What should I say? I silently ask my mate.

It’s your call, baby. I trust you.

I look back at the crowd, trying not to telegraph my uncertainty.

They’re all waiting expectantly, and I need to decide quickly. Do I lie, or do l tell the truth?