“How do you plead?”

Norman flashed the judge a jovial smile. “Innocent as a virgin, My Lords and Lady.”

The courtroom wasn’t as grand as the meeting room, but it was laid out in a similar style. The shape was circular, with raised rows of plush crimson seats, a section for the jury, the defense, and the prosecution, and a raised dais upon which sat three judges behind a row of podiums. The floors were made of a dark, polished wood that gleamed in the golden glow of the sconces lit around the entire circumference of the room. Crimson curtains hung from the walls, though they were there to provide color more than for practical use, since there were no windows in the room.

The courtroom was filled to the brim with royal werewolves, all of whom witnessed the garden courtyard battle. Norman sat on the witness stand in a fine, pinstriped gray suit with a red silk handkerchief fashionably situated in his coat pocket.

Several feet across from him sat Gage, along with his lawyer. If humans thought mortal law could be twisted and full of loopholes, it had nothing on supernatural laws. It took practicing paranormal lawyers nearly ten years of testing to obtain their licenses.

Megan, his lawyer, also happened to be a werewolf. She had a reputation for being a down-to-earth woman with a keen ear and eye for spotting the loopholes that often allowed criminals to literally get away with murder.

The three judges, which included a high-ranking witch, werewolf, and vampire, all looked at each other.

“Your blood test results revealed traces of Green Magic in your blood,” the pale-faced vampire said, thumbing through the pages of lab work again.

“Apparently so,” Norman said, raising his brows and shaking his head. “I was as surprised to learn that as you were.”

“So you’re saying you have no idea how you came into possession of Green Magic?”

“Not at all, Your Honors,” Norman purred.

“And you do not deny you had Green Magic.”

“Of course not.” He shrugged. “I trust the lab work to be completely accurate. After all, you sent it to one of the finest labs in the country.”

More murmuring between the judges. The witch glanced down at the glowing pink-and-purple ball on her podium. Due to their gifts at lie-detecting spells, there was always a witch present at every trial in the country. Some humans had secretly begun employing them too, though illegally. The paperwork to practice such magic in a human court was horrendous, not to mention all the spells the human had to undergo to ensure he or she would never speak of the Underworld to anyone.

The judges, at a loss, reluctantly let Norman return to his seat beside his lawyer.

So far, the lie-detecting spell hadn’t gone off, meaning everyone who’d been questioned so far had been telling the truth.

Which worried Gage even more.

He sat beside Megan, who tapped her golden pen against her folder. Her eyes were narrowed on Norman and her magenta-colored lips were pursed.

“Does the prosecution have any further questions?” the witch asked, looking at Megan.

Megan sat down her pen and stood. “Yes, actually,” she said in a dark, authoritative voice. She put on her hot pink, wire-rimmed glasses and smiled. “I call Norman Black back to the stand.”

Norman’s lawyer rolled his eyes, as if to say this was foolish, but Norman politely stood and sidled over to the stand. He lounged against the seat and crossed his long legs, smiling at Megan as she approached.

“Mr. Black,” she said, “are you aware magic infection is extremely rare?”

“Of course,” he said congenially, “but it does happen.”

“And it just so happened to you.”

Norman’s lawyer shot out of his seat. “Objection! The prosecution is being antagonistic.”

“Sustained,” the witch said, with a warning glare to Megan. “Tone it down, counselor. And make your point.”

“Yes,” Norman drawled. “Where exactly are you going with this?”

“There’s a particular type of antibody certain paranormal species produce that wards off magical infections. Werewolves are among these creatures,” Megan went on. “It’s estimated only 1 percent of the werewolf population carries this antibody.”

“We’ve already had blood work done, counselor,” Norman said with a yawn. “They didn’t find this antibody.”

“You’re right. They didn’t. Which means one of two things: Either you really don’t have this antibody, or you paid someone to write a false report and alter the test results.”

“Are you insinuating I sabotaged my own test?” Norman growled, his eyes glinting gold.

“I’m saying that for someone who was one of the final two candidates for High King, I wouldn’t put anything past you. You may have started out with innocent enough intentions when you first decided to run for the crown, but I’d wager the closer you got to that much power, the more desperate you became.”

“I did not tamper with my tests!” Norman snapped. “This is outrageous!”

“Then you won’t mind if I bring in one of my vampire associates to retest you?”

Norman stalled. “I…” His eyes darted to his lawyer’s, who minutely shook his head. Norman looked at Megan and raised his chin a bit. “You have no right to touch me.”

“I have the right to ask questions when things seem fishy,” she said with just as much steel. She rested her elbows on the stand and leaned forward as she lowered her voice. “Come on, Mr. Black. It’s just one little prick. All we need is a drop. What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid of anything.”

The lie-detecting orb flared to life, casting a pink-and-purple glow about the room every time it pulsed.

The judges’ lips were weighed down by severe frowns. The witch snapped her fingers, and guards started forward toward the stand.

“What are you doing?” Norman demanded, his face going white as they seized him and forced his head back so his mouth faced the ceiling. “What are you doing!”

His lawyer stood. “Your Honors, please reconsider the truth serum. What if the orb is wrong?”

“That spell is never wrong,” said the witch. “And you should know our laws by now, counselor. It is illegal for us to administer the truth serum without the person first activating the lie-detecting spell. Once it’s triggered, he or she must consume the serum.”

Norman thrashed as Alara walked forward with the serum, her eyes alight with dark satisfaction. Norman’s eyes widened as she came into view, and she uncorked the delicate purple bottle.

“Bottoms up,” she said softly.

The guards forced his mouth open, and she dumped the contents of the bottle down his throat.

He gagged, trying to spit it up, but the magic within the serum took hold fast. Norman quickly went still as a spooky white glow filled his eyes, blotting out his irises.

“Ask your questions again, counselor,” the vampire instructed Megan.

Her expression never changed. Gage had never seen her wear anything other than her business face.

“Did you tamper with your blood test results?” Megan asked.

“No, I didn’t,” Norman said in a monotone voice. His tone was raspy, like the answers were literally being ripped from him. “I didn’t have to. I infected myself with Green Magic.”

Gasps went up around the courtroom.

“You infected yourself?” Megan asked, crossing her arms.

“Yes. I bought a vial of Green Magic from the Black Market and had a friend slip it in my food or drink so I wouldn’t know exactly how or when I’d been infected.”

Understanding dawned in Megan’s eyes. “So you could truthfully say you didn’t know how or when you’d been infected, thus avoiding setting off the lie-detecting spell. Very clever, Mr. Black.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Why did you want Green Magic?”

“Because it was the cheapest.”

Megan snorted.

“And so I would have the same abilities as a Green Warlock for a few days.”

“Why?”

“So I could make it look like Gage Johnson was using Green Magic, and thus, eliminate him from the race for High King.”

Gage smiled grimly. Gotcha, you sneaky son of a bitch.

Megan glanced at Danica thoughtfully, who sat in the row behind Gage. “Mr. Black,” Megan said, “did you by any chance have anything to do with the attempted shooting of Danica Johnson at the mall? And at the castle a few days ago?”

“Yes. I hired both shooters.”

Danica’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“Why?” Megan pressed.

“To be assured Gage would be eliminated in case the Council, who already favored him, decided to still let him run. An unmated wolf cannot be an Alpha… or a High King.”

“There’s also an eye-witness account of you conducting a late-night meeting with Malachite.”

“Yes.”

“Tell us about that.”

“I needed him.”

Megan’s jaw ticked when he didn’t go on. “Why, Mr. Black?”

“Because I knew Malachite was infatuated with Danica, and I needed a reason to make him want to be near her all the time. I knew he would want to protect the woman who resembled his dead wife, thus pitting him against Gage.”

“So Malachite was a distraction, I take it?”

An unexpected pang of pity over Malachite’s death went through Gage. He had been played, just as Gage had. All so Norman could get closer to the crown.

Norman was exactly the kind of politician Gage despised. He felt no regret in ruining the lives of people below him if it meant getting what he wanted.

“How did you get rid of the tattoos?” Megan said.

“I didn’t get rid of them,” Norman answered. “A witch I blackmailed cast a spell that hid the tattoos from sight and muted the bond between Danica and Gage.”

“Is it permanent?”

“No. The spell will wear off on the next full moon.”

“So they’re still mated?”

“Yes.”

Danica bit back a squeal and reached forward. Gage took her hand and squeezed, his smile as wide as hers.

Megan looked around. “Any further questions?” When no one nodded, Megan started to walk away and then paused. “Oh, I did have one more. Do you have any ties to the witch mafia or know anyone who does?”

“No.”

Megan’s shoulders fell. It was smart, digging for a lead while a criminal was under the influence of the truth serum. Too bad Norman didn’t have any connections.

“No further questions,” Megan said, walking back to Gage and rejoining him at their table.

Gage leaned into her. “You’re too smart for your own good.”

She shrugged, as if her stroke of genius had been nothing. “My gut still said he was hiding something. No one had phrased the questions in a way that would make him lie and allow the lie-detecting spell to pick up on it.”

Gage reached over and squeezed her hand with gratitude. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said with a wink and a foxy smile.

The witch snapped her fingers, and the glow faded from Norman’s eyes. He shook his head and blinked several times, squinting at his surroundings. When his face landed on Alara, who stood beside him, he frowned. “What are you smirking for?”

“You were right, Mr. Black,” Alara said, giving him a dark smile. “Magic never lies.” She looked at the judges, who stood. Everyone else in the room rose.

“Norman Black of the Nightshade Pack, you are hereby stripped of your rank as Alpha and are sentenced to one hundred years in Vulcan,” said the witch.

Gage trembled internally at hearing that prison’s name. It was the one place in the Underworld where only the vilest of criminals were sent.

“You are also disqualified from running for High King,” the witch went on. The gavel slammed down, the clank of wood against wood ringing throughout the room.

Everyone on Gage’s side stood and cheered. Gage hugged Danica, laughing. He felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

Another gavel slammed down, interrupting their impromptu celebration.

“We have just gotten in the results for High King,” Alara announced. A hush fell over the room as everyone waited in anticipation.

Gage mostly felt confused. Everyone had been eliminated from the running. Since the fight with Malachite, and his subsequent disqualification, he hadn’t been told he’d been allowed back into the competition.

Alara’s eyes sparkled, and she could barely contain her smile. “It is both my honor and pleasure to announce that the Council has ruled that Gage Johnson will be the next High King.”

The floor nearly dropped out from underneath Gage.

It couldn’t be true. This had to be a cosmic joke.

But as the crowd gathered around him and other royals congratulated him, he knew this was real.

High King. He was actually going to be High King.