When My Ex-Husband Dragged Me Before the Lycan Council

Thomas was there before I realized he'd moved.

One moment he was at the park's edge, leaning against the fence with Garrick. The next, his hand was on Isabela's back, warm and steady, and her pup-wolf stopped snarling mid-breath.

She didn't shift back right away. She stayed wolf, silver-white fur still bristling, but her body relaxed under Thomas's palm. Her ears swiveled toward him. He didn't say anything. He just kept his hand there, and after a few seconds, she shifted.

Small girl in a pink jacket. Standing exactly where the wolf had been.

Thomas looked at Leif then. Not hostile. Not threatening. Just final. The way you look at a door you've decided to close.

Leif's face was still white. The photograph was crumpled in his fist, edges torn where his fingers had dug in. He took a step back. Then another. Then he turned and ran.

I watched him go. Isabela's hand tightened in mine.

"Mama," she said quietly. "That boy was loud."

"I know."

"My wolf didn't like it."

"I know that too."

Thomas crouched down beside her, eye level. "You did good," he said. "Protecting your mama. But next time, wait for me. Okay?"

She nodded, very serious. "Okay."

He stood. His hand found the small of my back, a touch so light I almost didn't feel it. Almost.

"Let's go home," he said.

We walked to the SUV. Garrick was already there, door open, expression carefully neutral. Isabela climbed into her car seat and started humming. I got in beside her. Thomas slid into the front.

No one spoke on the drive back.

I kept my hand pressed to my collar. The burn was worse today. It had been getting worse for weeks, but I'd gotten good at ignoring it. At rationing the discomfort into something manageable.

Today it felt like it was spreading.

---

Two streets away from the park, Leif climbed into a silver sedan parked in a grocery store lot.

I didn't see it. But I knew. The way you know when someone's watching you from across a room. The way the air changes.

Kiana was behind the wheel.

Leif slammed the door. His face was blotchy, his breathing uneven. He threw the crumpled photograph onto the dashboard.

"It didn't work," he said.

Kiana picked up the photograph. Smoothed it out with two fingers. Her face was very still.

"I told you," Leif said, his voice rising. "I told you she doesn't care. She has a new family. She doesn't want me."

Kiana set the photograph down. She didn't look at him. She looked out the windshield at nothing.

"The Council will handle it," she said.

Leif blinked. "What?"

"The Lycan Council. They have laws about this. About mothers who abandon their pups." Her voice was calm. Measured. "We'll file a petition. A formal tribunal."

"But—"

"She can't hide behind the Lycan Prince forever, Leif." Kiana started the engine. "Not when the law is on our side."

She pulled out of the lot. Leif sat very still in the passenger seat, staring at the photograph on the dashboard.

That evening, Kiana filed the petition.

---

I didn't know about the tribunal yet.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed, scarf off, staring at the wall. Isabela was asleep down the hall. The house was quiet in the way houses get at night when all the noise has been used up.

I heard Thomas's footsteps in the hallway. Slow. Deliberate. He stopped in the doorway.

I didn't turn around.

"Evelynn."

I closed my eyes. "I'm fine."

"You're not."

I heard him move closer. The mattress dipped as he sat down beside me. Not touching. Just present.

"Let me see," he said quietly.

I knew what he meant. I'd been holding my chin higher for weeks, adjusting the scarf to cover the redness that appeared in the evenings. I thought I'd been careful.

I turned my head. Let him look.

The lamplight caught the marks clearly. Not irritation. Burn marks. Raw. Advancing. The silver lining beneath the leather doing what silver does to wolf-blood over time.

Thomas's jaw tightened. His hand came up, hovered near my throat, didn't touch.

"How long?" he asked.

I didn't answer.

"Evelynn. How long has it been like this?"

"A while."

His hand dropped. He was quiet for a long moment. Then: "Let me take it off."

My hand went to my throat. Instinct. Protection.

"No."

"It's poisoning you."

"I know."

"Then—"

"No." My voice was sharper than I meant it to be. I made it softer. "Not yet."

He looked at me. Really looked. I could see the thing he wasn't saying — the argument building behind his eyes, the wolf pacing inside him with a grief he wouldn't let reach his face.

But he didn't push.

"When you're ready," he said finally.

I nodded. My throat was too tight to speak.

He stood. Walked to the door. Stopped.

"I'll be in the hall," he said. "If you need me."

Then he was gone.

I sat there for a long time. My hand stayed at my throat. The burn spread.

---

The summons arrived three days later.

Official Silvercrest courier. Two envelopes. One for Thomas at the border-town base. One delivered directly to me.

I opened mine in the kitchen. Isabela was at the table with crayons. The paper was heavy, formal, stamped with the Lycan Council seal.

*Petition for Formal Tribunal. Charges: Willful abandonment of a pup. Betrayal of the sacred maternal bond. Dereliction of pack responsibility.*

*Petitioner: Kiana, Luna of Ironhold Pack, acting on behalf of Leif, minor child.*

*Scheduled: Four days. Neutral ground. Before the assembled Alphas, Council elders, and the Lycan King.*

My hands didn't shake. I read it twice. Then I set it down.

Thomas came through the door ten minutes later. He had his own copy. His face was tight.

He saw mine on the table. Stopped.

"Evelynn—"

I picked it up. Read it again. The words didn't change.

"I'm not hiding behind your power in that room," I said.

He went very still.

"If I do," I continued, "the collar wins."

He looked at me for a long moment. Then he nodded. Once.

"Okay," he said.

I folded the summons. Pressed two fingers to my collar. The burn was worse today.

Four days.