Page 101 of Fated to Her

Latham stands and comes down. He hands me my son before whispering to Eli beside me.

“You sure about this? I know about your mother. If it wasn’t self-defense, it’s punishable by death,” Latham asks him, and I see Eli gulp, his eyes darting to his father.

Maverick nods to him, and Eli’s eyes turn glassy. Latham goes to step away, and I grab his arm.

“Is there another way? What proof do you need?”

“Proof that says the hunters are in possession of illegal herbs. The only way for a hunter to get herbs is from us on a permit by the head councilman, and that’s Pete,” Latham answers. All joking aside, he is now the judge, jury, and executioner.

I swallow, and he stands, turning to Maverick, who smiles sadly at me.

“Wait,” I tell him just as he goes to slice Maverick’s hand.

Latham turns to me.

“What about Sam? He was a hunter. He was in possession of herbs. Wouldn’t that be proof enough that the hunters had them?” I ask him.

“We never got to the blood trials for Sam. He escaped before his official sentencing and before I could take his blood to find a suitable punishment,” Latham says.

I feel sick. “How much do you see with a blood trial?”

“Everything from the moment you took your first breath,” Latham says.

“Addie?” Eli says, gripping my hand.

“I can give you proof Sam had the herbs and other drugs.”

“Addie, they will see everything. Even what Sam did. Everything you have done,” Maverick says.

“I know, but it won’t leave this room, right?” I ask Latham.

“Only myself and the two other judges will see,” Latham answers.

I stand.

Eli grips my hand. “You don’t have to do this.”

“He is your father and Eason’s grandfather. Yes, I do,” I tell him before walking out the front.

“Your father would be turning in his grave,” Pete spits at me.

“My father tried to take you down. I know what you did, and I hope you burn for it,” I tell him, holding out my hand to Latham.

“Got any secrets, Addie? It could be signing your own death sentence,” Pete says, and Latham glares at him before taking my hand.

Latham grabs a knife from his pocket before slashing my wrist and covering it with his mouth. I can feel his tongue lapping at the cut, his eyes turning black and then tingeing red before a menacing noise escapes him, making goosebumps rise on my arms. His scent of embers grows stronger, I’m worried he will catch fire with how strong it gets.

He pulls away before turning to the council members on the stand. They look at him, and I can see Latham’s face twisted in anger, his teeth turning to points like a shark. A man in a robe with graying hair waves his hand at Latham; he is older, and his scent is similar to Latham’s.

“No need. I can read enough on your face Latham. Your word is good if you say there is enough evidence in her blood for him to stand a blood trial.” Latham nods.

“The trial begins, then,” Latham says, tugging me to him, his lips next to my ear. “I couldn’t make Sam pay, but I’ll make sure Pete does,” he whispers before kissing my cheek.

He lets me go, and I head back over to where Cyrus and Eli are. I go to step past Maverick, and he grabs my hand.

“Thank you,” he says, squeezing my fingers.

I sit back next to Eli, and he grips my knee. Cyrus hands me my son. I sniff his little head, soaking up his baby scent, before turning my eyes back to the front.