Rejected and Pregnant I Fled The Pack (Evelyn and Damon) novel Chapter 153

Chapter 153

Damon pov

The council chamber felt different than it had during my own hearing months earlier, the same formal, curved table, the same twelve senior pack members seated in careful, deliberate positions, but the atmosphere carried something heavier now, more grave, given everything that had unfolded these past several weeks.

I sat beside Callum, my father still recovering at home under close medical supervision, too fragile to attend even if the council had permitted it, my mother beside me instead, her expression tight with barely controlled tension as we waited for the proceedings to formally begin.

Genevieve sat across the chamber, flanked by two guards, her arm still bandaged from her injuries during the confrontation, her earlier composed, calculating confidence entirely replaced now by something desperate, unraveled.

Helena called the session to order, her voice carrying the same measured authority I remembered from my own hearing. “This council convenes to address the formal charges against Genevieve Ashworth-assault, attempted murder, sustained harassment and threat against pack leadership and their family. Ms. Ashworth, you may present your response to these charges.

Genevieve stood slowly, her composure fracturing almost immediately as she began speaking, tears already streaming down

her face.

“I need this council to understand,” she said, her voice thick and unsteady, “that I’ve been struggling. Genuinely, thoroughly struggling with my mental health these past several months. What happened wasn’t calculated cruelty. It was desperation, genuine breakdown, triggered by circumstances entirely outside my control.”

“You attacked Alpha Cross with a weapon,” Helena said, her voice carrying careful, measured skepticism. “Multiple times, according to the evidence presented. That requires more explanation than simply citing struggling mental health.”

“He abandoned me,” Genevieve said, her voice rising, something desperate and increasingly unhinged entering her tone. ” Fifteen years, and he simply discarded me the moment it became convenient, the moment his son and his wife decided honesty mattered more than my genuine feelings. What was I supposed to do, simply accept that kind of dismissal without any response at all?”

“You could have accepted the end of an inappropriate relationship without resorting to violence and repeated criminal threats,” Helena said flatly. “Millions of people navigate rejection and heartbreak without attempting murder.”

“You don’t understand what desperation actually feels like,” Genevieve snapped, her composure crumbling further. “Robert made promises to me over the years, implied commitments that gave me every reason to believe our arrangement meant something genuine. When he simply discarded that overnight, without any real acknowledgment of what I’d actually sacrificed

“This is Robert’s fault,” she continued, her voice sharpening with sudden, desperate accusation. “If he’d simply handled things properly, with genuine consideration for what I’d actually invested, none of this would have happened. If Damon hadn’t interfered, formally restricting my access, escalating everything through pack authority instead of allowing me space to actually process the ending naturally-”

I felt fury building sharp and immediate in my chest, watching her continue deflecting genuine accountability, blaming everyone except herself for choices she’d made entirely independently.

“You’re blaming everyone except yourself,” I said, unable to fully contain my anger despite understanding this wasn’t formally my turn to speak. “My father nearly died, twice now, directly because of your actions. You attacked him with a weapon, pushed him toward a cliff edge, and you’re standing here claiming this is somehow his tault, or mine, tor simply establishing reasonable boundaries?”

“Alpha-elect Cross,” Helena said, though her tone carried understanding rather than genuine reprimand. “You’ll have formal opportunity to present your account. Please allow Ms. Ashworth to finish.”

I forced myself to sit back, though fury remained simmering close to the surface, watching Genevieve continue her increasingly desperate, deflecting testimony.

“I have genuine mental health struggles,” she continued, tears still streaming freely. “Anxiety, depression, exacerbated significantly by everything happening these past several months-the rejection, the isolation, watching my entire future collapse because of decisions made entirely by other people. I need treatment, genuine understanding of what actually drove me toward these desperate actions/not simply punitive imprisonment.”

Helena made careful notes, her expression remaining professionally neutral despite the clear weight of the testimony, and I watched, understanding the genuine complexity the council now faced-balancing legitimate concern for potential mental health struggles against the undeniable, severe violence she’d repeatedly, deliberately inflicted on my family.

“Council members,” Helena said eventually, “we’ll now hear formal testimony regarding the events of the attack itself, along with the pattern of behavior leading toward it.”

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