Page 70 of His Mate

The tribunal was being held in the heart of the Resistance compound, in a large building that appeared to have once been a courthouse before the Collapse. Its towering walls loomed over us as we approached, the windows boarded up and the once-grand steps cracked and broken. Soldiers stood guard at the entrance, their weapons at the ready, their eyes cold and suspicious as they watched us approach.

Inside, a small group of Resistance leaders sat at the front of the room, their faces hard and unreadable. Sorin led us forward, her posture rigid as she took her place beside them.

“Rowan Blackwood,” one of the leaders began, his voice echoing in the quiet room. “And Kendra… We have yet to decide what to do with you and it is the purpose of this tribunal to figure that out.”

Rowan squeezed my hand, his voice steady as he spoke. “We’re not your enemy.”

The leader’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t interrupt. He glanced at Sorin, then back at us. “The attack yesterday has raised questions. And we want answers.” He leaned forward slightly, his gaze cutting. “What are you really doing here? And why are the wolves hunting you?”

Rowan took a deep breath, his grip tightening on my hand as he spoke. “The wolves are after me because of who I am—because of my bloodline. And now that I’ve marked Kendra, they’re after her too.”

The Resistance leaders exchanged glances, their eyes dark with concern and rampant suspicion. Sorin stood off to the side, her arms crossed, her face impassive, but I could tell from the rigid set of her shoulders that she didn’t like this one bit.

One of the leaders, a large man with a scar cutting across his cheek, leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at Rowan. “So let me get this straight,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “You’ve led a pack of wolves right to our doorstep, and now you expect us to believe it wasn’t intentional? That it was merely a coincidence?”

Rowan’s jaw tightened, his hand still holding mine as he answered, his voice steady. “We didn’t lead them here on purpose. We’ve been on the run for days—weeks—trying to stay ahead of them. The attack yesterday wasn’t about you; it was about me. They’re hunting me because I’m Patient Zero.”

“And now they know where we are,” Sorin cut in coldly. “They’ll send more soldiers, more wolves, and it won’t stop until they have what they want. You’ve put us all in danger.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the room, and I felt a knot tighten in my stomach.

“That’s not what happened,” Rowan protested, his voice rising slightly, as a bit of frustration crept into his tone. “We weren’t even trying to find you. We were just trying to escape them.”

The leader shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “Intentional or not, the fact remains that you’ve brought trouble to our gates. We’ve fought hard to stay hidden from the wolves, and now… well, now they know where we are.”

“They’ll come,” Sorin added, her voice hard and unforgiving. “And they’ll come in force. Yesterday’s attack was just the beginning.”

A heavy silence fell over the room.

I took a deep breath, my mind racing as I tried to think of something—anything—to calm the growing tension. We couldn’t fight them, not like this. We needed to work together. The wolves wouldn’t stop hunting us, and if we didn’t find a way to convince the Resistance that we were on their side, we wouldn’t survive the next attack.

“I understand you’re scared,” I said, stepping forward, my voice shaky but determined. “But we’re not your enemy. The wolves… they’re relentless. They want Rowan because of his bloodline, but we didn’t ask for this. We’re just trying to survive, just like you.”

Sorin’s eyes flicked to me, her expression unreadable. “Survive at our expense?”

“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “No, we can help each other. You’ve been fighting the wolves for years. You know their tactics, their weaknesses. And now, with Rowan and me… we know what they want. We know how far they’ll go to get it. We can work together.”

The leaders exchanged glances, their expressions hard, but I could see a flicker of uncertainty in their eyes. They didn’t want to trust us, but they knew the truth—we were all in this together, whether they liked it or not.

The man with the scar spoke again, his voice gruff. “You really think working together will stop them? And if they want you that badly… what’s stopping them from sending even more soldiers? From wiping us all out?”

“They’ll send more,” Rowan said, his voice grim but steady. “But you’re underestimating what we can do together. You’ve been holding them off for years, and now, with us, you’ll know what they want. You can use that against them. You’ll have a chance to fight back.”

Finally, after a long moment, one of the other leaders—a woman with short-cropped hair and sharp eyes—spoke up. “They’re not spies,” she said quietly but firmly. “I don’t think they’re here to deceive us. If anything, they’re running from the same thing we’ve been fighting all along.”

The scarred man grunted in reluctant agreement. “If they were spies, they wouldn’t have let the wolves attack one of their own.”

“Alright,” Sorin said after a long pause, her tone clipped. “We’ll work together. But this doesn’t mean I trust you, Blackwood. Oryou, Kendra. You’re dangerous—both of you. And if I see even the slightest hint that you’re working against us, I won’t hesitate to end you. Either of you.”

I nodded, relief washing over me even as her threat lingered in the air all around us. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.

And then, with a sudden crash, the double doors to the tribunal were thrown open.

Everyone in the room turned at once, the loud bang echoing through the high ceilings, and my heart lurched at the unexpected noise. A gust of wind swept in through the doors, throwing dust and loose papers up into the air, and for a moment, the light from outside silhouetted the figure standing in the doorway, casting him in shadow.

He stepped inside without hesitation, his footsteps echoing loudly across the chamber, each one confident and deliberate. The man moved with purpose, his long coat billowing behind him as he strode forward, every inch of him radiating command. His presence was magnetic, the kind that drew everyone’s attention instantly, without him needing to say a word.

He wasn’t a Resistance soldier—there was something different about him. His hair was dark, streaked with touches of silver, and his face was hard, chiseled with deep lines around his eyes. His build was powerful, tall, his shoulders broad beneath the thick coat he wore. He moved like someone who knew exactly where he was going, with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, and yet, he carried it effortlessly.

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