His Lost Moon

Accalia POV "Miss Accalia Grey," the prosecution attorney called my name, and my head snapped in his direction. I had never been in a courtroom or part of any court proceedings before, and the whole setting was intimidating and nerve-wracking. I was nervously fiddling with my fingers, shaking visibly, and not paying attention. The court was packed to the brim, and curious eyes were pinned on me. The proceedings started on Monday, and we watched and listened attentively to everyone's testimony on the television. It was my turn to give my testimony today. So far, there is no concrete evidence to put this murderer behind bars or even ban him from the pack. "May I call you by your name?" the prosecutor asked gently. "Yeah, you may," I stuttered nervously. I internally growled, irritated with myself. I never stuttered. Why the hell was I so nervous? I'm going to make a fool of myself if I keep this up. Just relax, I told myself, and tell the court what you saw. It's not that hard! "Accalia," he said, and I nodded my head as I took a deep breath to try and calm myself. "Could you please tell the court about what you saw on that day?" What had I seen? The horrific scene had been burned into my mind, haunting me day and night with bloody images of him standing over my brother's mutilated body. "I have seen him," I gestured to the defense table, "standing over Dean's body, soaked in blood." I paused for a second as I recalled the images. "Blood was dripping from his claws," I answered. "Are you referring to Mr. Dustin Wolfgang?" the prosecutor asked. "Yes, sir," I answered. The prosecutor turned and nodded his head toward the royal judge and elders. We had gone through the questions he had for me, and there was only one he wanted me to answer. "No further questions, your honor," the prosecutor said, taking his seat. Is it over? Can I now leave and put all this sh*t behind me? Will I have closure now? Will the judge send Dustin's ass to the dungeons? I was about to get my things and get up when the judge spoke. "Does the defense have any questions?" he asked. My head snapped toward the old man as he waited patiently for the defense to answer. His salt-and-pepper hair was neatly cut, and his yellow-golden eyes carried knowledge. He looked relaxed, as if he had already decided what the verdict would be. "Yes, we do your honor," the defense attorney said and got up. He buttoned up his expensive black blazer and started to take a few steps toward me. F*ck! I mentally cursed. The prosecutor never said that I would be cross-examined. The defense attorney was a youngish wolf, and I guessed his age to be in his early twenties. His dark brown hair was neatly combed, and his posture carried a lot of confidence. Will he have many questions for me? I have already answered the critical one. What more is there to answer? It barely happens that a pack with treaties kills one another's members. He shouldn't have much experience in this field, yet, for some reason, the attorney made me feel uncomfortable. His presence was intimidating, and it made me shiver in my seat. "Hi," he said, greeting me in a non-threatening way and smiling. "My name is Mr. Raymond Miller," he introduced himself. "There is no reason to be scared or worried; take a deep breath. I'm just going to ask you a few more questions." He reassured me, yet his eyes told me a different story; he wasn't as kind as he sounded or acted. A wolf dressed in sheep's clothes was the feeling I got from seeing him. I nodded my head and took another deep breath. "Are you ready?" he asked. "Y-y-yes," I answered, trying not to squeak out my answer. "Miss Grey, is it true that Mr. Dean Grey is your brother?" He asked and waited for my answer. "Yes," I said, nodding my head. "That is correct; he is, was my twin brother, and was the future Alpha of the Moon Blue Pack," I answered. Dean and I were born two minutes apart, with Dean being the eldest. "Did you two have a close bond?" He asked and pinned my gaze. I suddenly wondered where he was going with this question. Twins usually have a close and strong bond; sharing a womb was as close as one could get. "I would say so, yes," I answered with a bit more self-confidence, hoping that it was the last question and I could go. "So, did you and your brother share... everything?" I scrunched my eyebrows together at his next question. We were almost always together, but did we share everything? No, we had our own separate group of friends. I was a girl, and he was a boy. Some of our interests would differ, yet Dean was still my brother, my hero, and my confidante. "I am not sure what you are referring to," I answered. "Did you do everything together?" he asked. "We used to, yes," I answered. "So you knew that Mr. Grey was using illegal substances?" he asked, keeping my gaze captive. Wait? What? Was Dean using it again? No, no, no, there must be some mistake! "... and according to our records, you have done so as well." "I..." This was absurd! I was surprised to hear the defense attorney's words... I opened my mouth a few times to argue, but couldn't utter a word. "Did you or did you not?" The defense attorney asked impatiently. "That was years ago..." I tried to defend myself, "I haven't..." "Miss Grey," the defense attorney said, shaking his head, and a glint followed in his eyes. "Then why did your urine tests come back positive for wolfsbane? You know that the Royal Academy tests all students regularly." "I don't know what you are talking about; I have never!" I growled and balled my fists. There must be some mistake. I haven't used that sh*t for over a year. My father caught both of us, and he lost his sh*t. We promised to never use it again. He turned around and picked up papers from the desk, walked back to me, and handed me the reports. "Have a look; the test confirms that you and your brother had wolfsbane in your system the same day he was killed." "He killed Dean!" I lashed out. "Why are you putting me on trial for something so stupid...? Even if we used, I didn't kill my brother." The prosecutor wanted to intervene, but the judge held his hand and stopped him. "Do you have proof that Mr. Wolfgang did indeed kill your brother?" he asked. "I walked in and saw him covered in blood!" I answered. "But you didn't see him do it? Did you?" he asked. "No!" I answered, shaking my head. "There is also no camera footage of the event and no other witnesses," he said, waiting for my response. I shook my head again and dropped my gaze to my lap, fiddling nervously with my fingers. "Miss Grey, do you know how old Mr. Wolfgang is?" The defense attorney asked, and I lifted my gaze and searched for him—the one who took my brother's life, the one who took half of my soul from me, the one who ripped my family apart and left our pack without a future Alpha... His dark hair was neatly combed and was different from his normal out-of-bed look; his gray eyes were hard, like he was angry; and the silver mercury color that always made his eyes glow was gone. His face was strained like he was in pain, and for some reason, he looked much older than a young boy in his teens. I knew Mr. Wolfgang; well, Dustin was a few months, maybe even a year younger than Dean and me, and he and Dean were best friends. I never suspected that Dean's best friend would kill him in cold blood. Dustin always looked like he was in control of himself. I never saw him angry or even upset; he was friendly and liked by everyone. I shook my head to answer the defense question. "Mr. Wolfgang is only fifteen years old," he answered, and my eyes widened at his words. That can't be possible, but... "Miss Grey, did you know that?" He asked. "No!" I answered a bit harsher than I intended to. "Miss Grey, if Mr. Wolfgang is only fifteen years old, could you explain to the court how it will be possible for a fifteen-year-old boy to extract his claws? He is a boy and has not even taken his first shift." "I-I-I..." I stuttered, but the prosecutor cut me off. "See, this is what I believe happened." The defense attorney crossed his arms and took a step closer to the bench. His face suddenly turned dark, and a smirk played at the corners of his lips. "I think you were using... and when you stumbled into the classroom, you were already intoxicated, which made you believe that you saw Mr. Wolfgang standing over Mr. Grey's body with extended claws." "Then why was he covered in blood?" I asked, trembling out of anger. "A rogue must have found access to the school and killed your brother, and when Mr. Wolfgang found Mr. Grey in the classroom, he tried to help save him, and in the process, he got himself soaked in blood... If only that was what I saw... ****