Chapter 214: I hope so

"You cannot unilaterally issue such a ruling! You are under an official state travel ban preventing your entry into this territory, and we—" the prosecutor shrieked, scrambling for leverage.

Oliver raised a single eyebrow, regarding the man as though he were a complete idiot.

"I haven’t set foot in your country. Historically, this city is a fully autonomous entity and bears no legal ties to the state. It is astonishing how poorly you grasp basic law... Mr. Prosecutor."

"That still doesn’t give you the right to simply release him! He murdered twenty high-ranking officials!" Leone snarled, puffing out his chest.

He was clearly posturing, making a desperate bid to reassert his authority in front of Greta. Yet his fated omega was looking at him with absolute terror, practically trembling as she clung to the arm of an unfazed Sayan.

Frowning, I stood up with decisive resolve. Leone needed to be completely broken right now—struck down while he was still reeling.

"Your Honor, the defense formally requests permission to dismiss two of our representatives seated in the back rows. They have a flight in an hour, leaving for a getaway prior to their upcoming wedding."

"Granted," the judge nodded hastily, naively hoping to weaken our suffocating presence in the room.

Seeing Sayan escort Greta toward the exit, Raymond completely lost his composure.

"I object! This session is not over! Halt!" he roared, his voice cracking with rage.

His orders carried no weight here anymore. They calmly stepped out into the corridor, and precisely as I had calculated, the city governor completely unravelled in an acute fit of panic and jealousy. It must have hurt him terribly. But it hurt me a hundred times more watching my Alpha locked in a cage like a wild beast for so many long months.

"Do you have any comprehension of the consequences of refusing a direct order from the Voice of the High Tribunal?" Oliver inquired, his tone laced with ice.

"It means the monster guilty of mass terror will finally be locked away!" the crimson-faced prosecutor barked back.

"Not quite." I took a deliberate step toward the bench. "It means our clan and the entire Allied Pack Council will immediately cut off all financial support for this city’s infrastructure. Every charitable foundation will be frozen. The accounts for local schools, public hospitals, and even this courthouse will be blocked. We refuse to fund a city where we have no place. Why maintain a court system that offers no justice?"

"All of those institutions have long been funded by the state budget!" the judge declared haughtily, though a noticeable tremor betrayed his voice.

"No. For decades, they have been funded exclusively through voluntary contributions from the Allied Council," I countered smoothly. "And as of this second, we formally cease all transfers unless you side with legitimate justice and put an end to this lawlessness. Your accounts will be empty by evening. The city will be bankrupt by next week."

A heavy file hit the judge’s desk as Oliver personally handed over the financial statements. As Egrin turned the banking records with trembling hands, his skin drained of color, turning the shade of cold ash.

Swallowing hard, the judge cast a hopeless look toward the ruined Raymond Leone, shifted his gaze to Magnus’s shattered shackles, and finally met my eyes.

"The case against Mr. Rainn... is hereby dismissed for lack of corpus delicti," the judge announced, striking his wooden gavel with exhausted finality. "Release him from custody immediately. I declare Magnus Rainn fully acquitted under the law, recognizing his actions as fully justified in defense of his mate and offspring."

***

"—Mr. Rainn! A word for our readers—how did you manage to clear your name?!"

"—Mr. Rainn, is it true that you planned to usurp the mayor’s seat?!"

"—Mr. Rainn, do you intend to make this city strictly for werewolves?!"

"—Is it true that you can get away with anything now?!"

"—What plans do you intend to carry out in the near future?!"

As we descended the courthouse’s sweeping stone steps arm in arm, reporters violently surged against the security barricades, practically clawing past our guards for a single quote. Magnus ignored their wild shouting, keeping his arm locked around my waist and pressing me tight against his side. But at that last question, he abruptly halted. Raising his free hand, he commanded the frantic crowd to fall instantly silent.

"I plan to get married. So I suggest you leave me in peace and refrain from ruining my celebration," a predatory grin slashed across his lips, baring his fangs. "Unless, of course, you’d like me to pay you a... personal visit?"

No other question followed. A dead, suffocating silence fell over the snow-covered plaza.

Reaching the waiting SUV, Magnus opened the heavy door himself and carefully guided me inside. But instead of circling around the hood, he slid onto the leather backseat right beside me. Pulling me roughly into his arms, he captured my lips in a deep, desperate kiss.

The outside world vanished, shrinking down to just the two of us inside the enclosed cabin. Every second in his arms felt like a fever dream—a sweet illusion born from a mind starved for his touch.

I had missed him so agonizingly much. Relief had yet to fully set in; my fingers gripped his black shirt in a desperate vise, holding on as if terrified reality would shift again and tear him away. I would never let them take him.

His hot hands slid possessively over my body. Rumbling, growling a curse about the tight space, he lifted me effortlessly onto his lap, straddling his thighs. He rested his forehead heavily against my temple, his breath coming in ragged hitches.

"What kind of scandalous attire are you wearing, my soul? Did you decide to seduce every male in your path today?" Magnus rasped into my hair, holding me tighter against him.

Through the thin fabric of my dress, I could feel his undeniable reaction to my outfit—and to what was hidden beneath it.

"You might as well have walked in wearing just your underwear."

"That would have been rather difficult," I whispered, trailing a hand playfully down his chest.

"Why is that?" he asked, his body tensing as his instincts caught the implicit lure.

"I’m not wearing any."

The heart hammering beneath my palm spiked violently, betraying his raw, surging arousal. The air in the car turned scorchingly thick.

"Jane..." he growled low, a dark promise in his tone. "I will punish you for this. Tonight, you’ll be begging me..."

"I certainly hope so," I murmured.