Free Web NovelChapter 363: Chapter 363 The Ugly Truth
Allison POV
The knife never fully leaves Lizzy’s hand, not at first, and the mistake everyone makes is thinking this is about speed, about who lunges first or who shouts loudest, when really it’s about space and permission and the moment someone decides rules no longer apply to them.
I feel it before I see it, the way the room tightens around her, the way Ezra shifts and Elijah mirrors him, the way Ethan’s attention locks so completely that it feels like a wall settling into place behind me, and when Lizzy moves it isn’t wild or frantic, it’s sharp and targeted, the blade angling toward my side as she steps in close enough to turn the council chamber into a funnel.
I pivot, not back but sideways, because backing up gives her momentum and I won’t give her that, as my hand comes up to catch her wrist just above the bone where leverage matters. My grip is firm without crushing, controlled without hesitation.
"Back," Ethan says, voice cutting through the room, and Ezra is already moving, Damon coiled and ready, Elijah’s presence flaring just enough to make the air feel thinner.
"No," I say, loud enough to stop them, steady enough to mean it, and I keep my eyes on Lizzy because she’s watching me, not them, her breath coming fast, her pupils blown wide with a mix of rage and triumph that tells me she wanted this to be chaos.
I tighten my grip, not to hurt, just to anchor.
"Step back," I repeat, this time softer, and I glance over my shoulder just enough to meet Ethan’s eyes. "Please."
Consent isn’t only about touch, it’s about control of a moment, and this is mine.
Ethan hesitates, I see it, the instinct to protect warring with the knowledge that taking this from me would turn me into exactly what they want to paint me as, and then he nods once, sharp and decisive.
"Everyone, back," he orders, and the authority in his voice snaps the room into motion. Chairs scrape, councilors retreat, Fallon shifts position to seal exits without crowding and Daniel moves to the side with his tablet already recording, chain-of-custody running in real time.
Ezra takes one step back and stops, fists loose at his sides, eyes never leaving Lizzy. Elijah does the same, Loki’s presence steady in the link.
’You sure?’ He asks, not doubt, just confirmation.
’Yes,’ I answer, and I mean it.
"You think they’ll listen to you?" Lizzy laughs, breathless, high.
"They already are," I say, and I twist her wrist just enough to break the line of her arm, forcing the knife downward without jerking, without tearing, because the goal isn’t pain, it’s control.
She snarls and tries to surge forward anyway, shoulder slamming into my chest, and I let myself go with it, turning the impact into a pivot that takes us off balance together, my foot sliding back as I drop my center of gravity and use her momentum instead of fighting it.
We go down hard, not crashing but a controlled fall, my knee planting between hers, my other leg braced, my grip never leaving her wrist as the knife clatters against the stone and skids away.
A sharp intake of breath ripples through the room.
Lizzy bucks, nails scraping, trying to rake my face, and I catch her other wrist with my free hand, pinning it against the floor beside her head, my weight distributed carefully so I’m not crushing her, not cutting off air, just immobilizing.
"Stop," I tell her, calm, close, my voice low enough that it’s only for her. "This ends now."
"Get off me," she spits, struggling, her strength frantic but unfocused, all heat and no structure.
I tighten my hold a fraction, enough to remind her that flailing costs energy and energy runs out.
"I will," I say, "as soon as you stop." She freezes for half a heartbeat, then screams, the sound sharp and piercing, and I know exactly what she’s doing, trying to turn the room against me with volume and spectacle, trying to make me look like the aggressor by being louder.
I don’t rise to it. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
Instead, I shift my weight again, sliding my knee up to block her hip, angling my body so the councilors can see my hands, open around her wrists, my grip clear and controlled.
"Everyone can see this," I say, raising my voice just enough to carry, and I keep my tone even. "She drew a weapon. I disarmed her. She is not injured."
Councilor Harlan looks like he might choke, fury and vindication tangling on his face.
Maren’s expression has gone pale, eyes darting between me and the knife on the floor like she’s recalculating everything she thought she knew.
Lizzy laughs again, hysterical now.
"You’re enjoying this," she accuses, and there’s desperation under it, a need to make me monstrous so she doesn’t have to face what she’s done.
"I’m not," I say honestly. "I’m ending it." I glance up, meeting Ethan’s gaze again, and this time there’s no question in it, just acknowledgment.
"Cuffs," he says, calm.
Fallon moves immediately, kneeling at my side without crowding, offering the restraints without touching Lizzy until I nod, and together we transition, smooth and practiced, him securing Lizzy’s wrists while I maintain control, releasing only when the restraints click into place.
The moment Lizzy is bound, I lift off her, rising smoothly to my feet, hands open, palms out, showing the room there’s no blood, no bruising, no broken bones.
Lizzy curls inward on the floor, chest heaving, eyes blazing with hate now that fear has nowhere else to go.
"She attacked me," I say, addressing the room, not defensive, just factual. "She brought a concealed weapon into a council session. She ignored multiple commands to stop."
Harlan opens his mouth, but Ethan cuts him off.
"She is being remanded to the cells pending investigation."
"The dungeon?" Harlan explodes. "That’s excessive."
