Celena POV:
The guards' grip was rough, digging into my arms, but my mind was a block of ice. I stared directly at Arlin, my voice, though raspy from the drug, cutting through the whispers.
"On what grounds, Arlin, do you claim I betrayed you?"
He let out a short, ugly laugh. "On the grounds that I saw you with my own eyes, lying in a bed with Dante!"
Jaylin tugged on Arlin's sleeve again, her voice dripping with false pity. "Arlin, stop. You're embarrassing her."
"Arlin is right!" a shrill voice piped up. Amber Hayes, one of Jaylin's sycophants. "We all saw it! It was disgusting!"
Wallace Tucker, another of her cronies, sneered. "Gamma McLaughlin must be dying of shame."
I ignored them all. My eyes were locked on Arlin. "I asked for proof. All you saw was a drugged woman, incapable of defending herself."
The hall fell still. Several smiles faded. A few nobles exchanged uncertain glances.
Arlin's face darkened. "You expect me to believe your pathetic excuses?"
"Belief has nothing to do with it," I said, and with a sudden twist, I wrenched one arm free. I staggered but held my ground. "It's a matter of fact."
My gaze found Polly Vance cowering at the back of the crowd. She flinched, refusing to meet my eyes.
A cold smile touched my lips. I glanced at Dante in his corner. He had leaned forward slightly, his gray eyes sharper than before, fixed on the needle of movement at my hand. Whatever he had thought of me moments ago, I had his attention now.
I took a deep breath. My free hand moved before the guard beside me could react. I reached for the slim metal case fastened to his belt, the kind carried by pack guards for blood oaths, punishments, and silver restraint.
He jerked back too late.
I flipped the case open and drew out a narrow silver lancet.
A wave of fear washed over the hall. The crowd collectively recoiled. Werewolves and silver. It was poison. It was death.
Arlin's face went pale. "What are you doing? Are you trying to threaten me with suicide?"
Silver was anathema to our kind. It burned our skin, severed our connection to our inner wolves, and in large enough doses, it was fatal.
"Not suicide," I said, my voice steady as I held the lancet up. It glinted in the chandelier light. "Proof."
I turned my head, my eyes pinning Jaylin where she stood. "I was drugged with a substance known as 'Moonshadow Slumber.' It's odorless, tasteless, but its residue reacts to silver, turning it a distinct blue-black."
Jaylin's face lost all color. Her innocent expression collapsed, replaced by pure, unadulterated panic. She never imagined I would know about such an obscure poison.
"I will now pierce my own fingertip with this lancet," I announced, my voice ringing with authority. "If there is poison in my blood, the silver will change color. If there is not, I will accept the charge of disgracing myself with Prince Dante and be exiled for life."
The stakes were absolute. My life, my future, my very connection to my wolf.
Arlin was stunned into silence, his jaw slack.
The nobles erupted in frantic whispers. This was no longer a simple scandal. This was a trial by ordeal.
My eyes flickered between Jaylin and Polly. Both looked like they were about to faint.
I turned back to Arlin. I spoke each word with deliberate, chilling clarity. "Heir Apparent, do you accept my challenge? Because if you lose, this engagement will not be 'voided' by you. It will be annulled by me, Celena McLaughlin, in front of this entire pack."
I was taking back the power. I would not be rejected. I would be the one who walked away.
He was trapped. In our culture, to refuse a challenge sworn on one's own life was an act of cowardice. For an Alpha Heir, it was unthinkable.
He stared at me, his green eyes filled with a mixture of hatred and grudging respect. Finally, he ground out the words through clenched teeth.
"Fine. I accept."
I lowered my gaze to the lancet in my hand. The silver point was perfectly still. Good. Let them watch.
I ignored the gasps, the whispers, the terrified look on my stepsister's face. My world narrowed to the silver in my hand and the tip of my own finger.
With a steady hand, I brought the point of the lancet down.
