Chapter 64: The Trial of Helena March

Helena March's trial became the biggest political event since the Moonwell Charter resurfaced.

She wasn't charged for having traditional beliefs.

That distinction mattered.

She was charged with conspiracy, kidnapping, illegal medical detention, privacy violations, and directing Victor Hale to surveil protected survivors.

Her lawyers tried to turn the case into a referendum on Pack tradition.

I refused to help them.

When reporters asked whether Heritage ideology itself should be outlawed, I said no.

Rhea nearly dropped her coffee.

"You surprised me."

"Bad ideas don't disappear because they're illegal."

"Very annoying wisdom."

"I learned from you."

"Impossible."

At trial, Helena March remained composed.

She wore pale grey.

No jewelry.

No visible emotion.

Victor testified first.

He had accepted a plea agreement.

He described Heritage donor meetings where survivors were called contaminated.

Evelyn testified about false resonance injuries.

Then Mira testified by closed video.

No public face.

No legal name beyond initials.

Her choice.

Helena's attorney asked whether Mira had suffered permanent physical harm at Saint Orla.

Evelyn's expression turned murderous.

Mira answered before anyone could object.

"I was strapped to a bed while strangers discussed whether I should be allowed to have children."

Silence.

"Is that enough harm for you?"

The attorney changed direction.

Celine testified next.

She admitted leaking Rowan's schedule.

She admitted resentment toward me.

She also admitted contacting Mira because guilt finally became stronger than pride.

The prosecutor asked why she had trusted Victor.

"Because he told me I could fix what I'd done."

Her voice shook.

"I wanted to believe one good action would erase the bad one."

I understood that more than I wanted to.

Knox had spent months learning the same thing.

Repair mattered.

Erasure didn't exist.

Then Helena March took the stand.

That surprised everyone.

Her lawyer looked unhappy.

She insisted she had acted to protect future generations.

"Moon Crown damaged these wolves."

The prosecutor asked, "Does damage remove their right to bodily autonomy?"

"No."

"But you authorized assessments without consent."

"I authorized risk evaluation."

"Victor Hale's message says sterilization."

Helena paused.

"An extreme recommendation."

"Which you approved."

"For severe cases."

The courtroom erupted.

The judge demanded silence.

I looked at Rowan.

His face was stone.

Helena continued.

"Alpha bloodlines carry responsibilities ordinary individuals don't understand."

There it was again.

Bloodline above person.

Future above present.

Institution above consent.

The prosecutor asked, "Would you have applied the same rule to your own daughter?"

For the first time, Helena's composure cracked.

"My daughter is dead."

Silence.

The prosecutor softened slightly.

"How?"

"Mate rejection."

That phrase changed the room.

Her daughter had been seventeen.

Rejected by an Alpha heir.

The bond rupture caused a severe wolf collapse.

She died months later.

Helena March had built an ideology around grief.

If mate bonds could be controlled.

If bloodlines could be protected.

If the "wrong" wolves could be kept away from powerful families.

Maybe no daughter would die like hers.

Understanding wasn't forgiveness.

But it explained the obsession.

When I testified, Helena watched me closely.

The prosecutor asked about the campaign targeting my weight.

I described it briefly.

Then the survivor surveillance.

Then the political pressure.

Helena's attorney stood.

"Alpha Nessa, isn't it true you personally oppose the traditional Supreme Luna structure?"

"I oppose forcing it."

"So you have political motives against my client."

"I disagree with her politically."

"Exactly."

"That doesn't make kidnapping legal."

A few people laughed.

The attorney frowned.

"You've benefited enormously from destroying traditional structures."

"How?"

"Influence. Fame. Authority."

"I was already Alpha."

"Because of blood."

"Because Lunaris chose me."

I looked at Helena.

"That's the difference."

The jury deliberated for two days.

Guilty on every major charge.

Helena March received decades in confinement.

Heritage Council itself wasn't banned.

Instead, its finances were placed under investigation and its medical programs dissolved.

Some people were furious.

They wanted the organization erased.

Others wanted Helena freed as a political prisoner.

Neither extreme satisfied me.

Law wasn't supposed to satisfy anger.

It was supposed to establish what could be proven and what consequences followed.

After sentencing, I saw Helena being escorted away.

She stopped.

"Nessa."

Security tensed.

I waited.

"My daughter was beautiful."

I didn't know what to say.

So I said, "I'm sorry she died."

Her eyes filled.

Then hardened again.

"She would've lived if the old systems had been stronger."

"No."

I shook my head.

"She would've needed people who saw her as more than a bond."

Helena stared at me.

Maybe she hated me for that.

Maybe one day she'd understand.

It wasn't my responsibility either way.

The trial also forced the Council to write protections that should have existed already. Medical decisions could no longer be justified through vague claims about Pack bloodline welfare. Adults retained reproductive autonomy regardless of rank, mate status, or inherited condition. Young wolves received independent advocates in bond-related treatment. I read every clause before voting. Laws written after harm could not undo what happened to Mira or Helena's daughter. But they could make the next abuse harder. Sometimes justice was punishment. Sometimes it was changing the door so the same monster couldn't walk through again.