Chasing Freedom

XII

Mira felt the walls closing in around her, her breath stuttering in her chest. No matter the meditative exercise she attempted, the fact remained. The minimal food she'd been able to keep down was threatening to come back up. The hall felt like a sauna now, where it had initially been a comfort to step into the warmth. There was buzzing tension in the air that only added to her nausea.

Studying Myles from a step ahead of her, she took in the rigid line of his shoulders and the way his hands were clenching at his sides between rubbing his palms on his jeans. He'd barely spoken a word to her since their impromptu breakfast had been interrupted by a young shifter she didn't know to announce that the council were on their way. In an instant, the mood had shifted. Myles' mother ushered the little girls from the table with an apology, disappearing quickly. In their wake, Myles quickly began to gather the dishes and Mira followed on autopilot, helping him with the chaotic clean-up. Then, after that, they were back in the hall and it was all Mira could to do follow.

And let herself be led to her own execution.

With Myles there as a witness.

They'd just passed the front door. Outside, there were two SUVs parked parallel to each other in the snow. A sentry was pacing below the porch, donned in black from his jacket to his boots. One of the many that she'd seen around the property. A precaution, according to Myles. It felt like far more than that.

Each step was harder than the last, especially as she began to hear the chorus of voices. There were more doors on this side of the hall; ones that seemed to be revolving. No one had told her how many were on the council and she hadn't thought to ask, when the detail was inconsequential in the scheme of it all. Now, she wished she had.

As someone approached them, Mira froze. She recognised Leandro. He was scowling, his eyes alight with rage. He didn't even seem to notice her, making a beeline for Myles. The conversation between the two of them was a series of hushed, harsh whispers; their heads bent to each other and hands on each other's arms. At one point, Leandro glanced up at her and Mira took interest in the grooves of the timber. When they broke away, minutes later, Myles moved closer to her once more, letting Leandro pass them both. The wide-birth he gave her was deliberate.

A concession made with Mira in mind.

The last kindness she'd get.

"Do you want me to stall?" asked Myles. "They can wait until tomorrow for all I care."

Mira shook her head. There was no point in dragging any of this out.

At the far end of the hall, a couple of metres from them, was a set of wide doors. It was where the noise was filtering out from. Whatever happened once she crossed those doors was out of her control, but Mira wouldn't let herself be cowered by the fact, despite her fear. If she could survive in isolation, danger lurking on all sides, then she could survive this.

At least, until the moment they ordered her death.

She'd die with her dignity in tact.

The council had nine members, all seated behind a long table that was set upon a step. There was no other furniture. The room looked like it had once been an outdoor patio and since converted into an indoor space with glass surrounds. Dark blinds were dropped three-quarters of the way down for privacy, while letting in the echo of white light from the snow fall outside.

On the far left, a barefoot shifter was standing, draped in a loose black robe. His expression was shrewd behind a long grey beard. The Elder. In his palm, he held a scroll.