Damon's parents let him have the night to himself before they decided it was time to intervene. Of course, they picked the moment Damon was leaving the house to go to Jun's trial to do so. They ambushed him as he was coming down the stairs.

"Damon," his mother began, "honey, I know how you feel. Trust me, I do, but your behavior recently is just outright reckless. Breaking into prison? This isn't like you."

Now at the bottom of the stairs, Damon stared at her silently. He wondered how many people were going to tell him they 'know him' before someone got a clue and realized that they knew jack shit.

Damon was tired of hearing it. Where was his mom and Malachi and the Reynes when Jun first issued his courting claim? Why did they have to wait to cut in until it was too late?

Did they hate him that much?

If the answer was anything but yes, then clearly they did not 'know' how he felt. Damon skirted around his mom. He was too old for this shit.

"Damon, please." It was his dad this time. "Whatever it is that's going on with you, the pack leader gave very specific instructions. We can't let you go to that trial."

Damon turned around slowly. "Excuse me? I'm under house arrest?"

This was going beyond the pale, even for Peter Reyne. Damon wasn't a danger to anyone, so there was no grounds for them to order that. The pack had very specific guidelines put in place to allow every member their freedom. The only time a pack member could be forcefully detained was if they did something majorly wrong or were a threat to others. Yeah, Damon broke into prison. But it's not like he tried to break Jun out of prison. And Jun was in heat, for God's sake. Damon was his heat partner. That had to count for something.

But that didn't really matter, apparently, because all the Reynes wanted was to get Jun kicked out of the pack as fast as possible. There wasn't anything Damon could really do to stop that from happening at this point, so keeping him from the trial was a waste of effort.

You know what? Damon thought. I don't really care anymore.

Before either of his parents could get another word in, Damon bolted out the front door. He heard his mom gasp slightly and his dad curse under his breath, but he was already moving like the wind. He was on the sidewalk in front of their house by the time he noticed the betas standing around like ugly garden statuary on the front lawn.

Seriously? Malachi left his goons to watch Damon's house? Fuck that.

Damon ran again. The one advantage he had over an alpha or beta physically was that he was smaller and could run faster. He could hear several sets of footsteps pounding on the pavement behind him, right on his heels. He heard his mother call after him to stop.

It took about thirty minutes and six random turns for Damon to lose the goons. Once the last of the footsteps faded, Damon ran for another few minutes before leaning against a building to catch his breath. He heaved in gulps of air like he'd been submerged in the sea for far too long. God damn was he out of shape. In his wolf form that little sprint would have been nothing. As a wolf he had way more stamina, but as a human he'd been spending most of his time in Jun's bed rather than exercising.

This just in: apparently getting tossed around during sex is not a substitute for actual exercise. Local omega shocked and betrayed.

Damon made his way to the town square, carefully sneaking through back alleyways to get there. He peeked out from behind the trees bordering the corner store and saw the courtyard already half full of pack members. And, if he squinted, he could see Jun's slouched figure, kneeling on the platform at the center of the square, wrists and ankles bound. His head was bowed, so Damon couldn't see his face, but he could imagine the distress he would see there and seethed.

The irony wasn't lost on Damon, either, that just a few months ago, Jun had stood on that very platform and proudly declared his courting claim on Damon. And now he was kneeling on it, waiting to be judged and ultimately exiled from the pack that he only joined for Damon.

The council that would be voting on Jun's fate was still gathering. More than half the seats set up around the back of the platform were filled. Among the people sitting there, Damon recognized Peter and Hailey Reyne, his boss, the pack accountant, Dr. Yang, Maria's mother, Amy (she was the pack's relations manager), and the pack's defense manager, Hank, who Damon had only ever met in passing. There were still three empty seats, but Damon was certain that the Reynes wouldn't have picked people likely to be on Jun's side. Including Dr. Yang and Damon's boss was already more than Damon expected. At the very least he hoped they would vote impartially. He definitely hoped they hadn't been bribed to vote one way or the other.

Damon slipped into the crowd, pulling up the hood of his sweatshirt to obscure his face. He worked his way to a midpoint between the stage and the back of the crowd, not daring to get closer. He stared at Jun and bit his lip, wanting Jun to look up and see him, but also not wanting Jun to be tortured seeing Damon so near while he was in heat and yet unable to go to him.

After a few minutes, the remaining council members, none of which Damon recognized, filed in and the trial began. Peter stood up to address the crowd.

"I would like to thank everyone for coming. Today, we gather for the trial of Jun Harper, who has been charged with..."

It was at this point that Damon zoned out, because Jun had finally lifted his head. And, miraculously, the first gaze Jun met was Damon's. Jun's eyes widened just slightly, but he remained otherwise still. Damon attempted to smile at Jun in reassurance. He mouthed 'it's okay' and hoped Jun could read lips.

It would be okay. Because no matter what happened today, Damon had made his choice.

Jun attempted to smile back at Damon, but Damon could see how strained Jun was, even from here. His cheeks were flushed, and his forehead was beaded with sweat. Damon was outraged all over again. He couldn't imagine being in heat and having to sit, bound, in front of a crowd of strangers. The humiliation alone would make Damon want to dive headfirst off the stage and bash his head open. Damon was certain this was also some type of kink, but if Jun had it, Damon would definitely know by now.

He zoned back in when Peter turned to the council. "Due to Mr. Harper's tendency for violence, I vote to have him exiled from the pack. Council, now is your time to vote. All who agree, raise your hands."

The three that Damon didn't know, along with Maria's mom and Mrs. Reyne raised their hands. That was six out of nine. Damon could hear people shuffling around in the crowd – leaving. The outcome was fairly clear even if the trial wasn't totally over.

Thankfully, when a vote wasn't unanimous, the people against it had the option to say why. Dr. Yang was the first to speak up.

"Excuse me, pack leader, but I feel we're all ignoring the very obvious fact that this young man is in heat. Certain levels of aggression are to be expected during the Season, as you well know. Certainly, if it were your son in the position of Mr. Harper right now, this fact would have been brought up in your briefing just now. In fact, I'm hard pressed to believe there would be 'charges' in the first place."

You go, Dr. Yang, Damon thought.

The awkward, embarrassed silence that followed this statement was almost enough to appease Damon's rage.

Almost.

But then Peter laughed in that asshole way where he was obviously trying to breeze right past everything Dr. Yang just said. "Nonsense. I hold my son accountable just the same as I would anyone else in the pack."

"If that's true," Dr. Yang said, calm and collected, like a badass, "then in light of your commitment to fairness, you wouldn't mind giving the details of Mr. Harper and the young Mr. Reyne's altercation, would you?"

Peter's politician-smile was frozen on his face. "Absolutely. Based on eyewitness accounts, and my son's account, Malachi went to Damon Blackwell's house to talk to him and barely walked onto the front lawn before being ambushed and beaten by Mr. Harper and Mark Anderson."

"Hm. Mr. Harper, is this true?" Dr. Yang asked.

However, before Jun could manage to get a word out, Peter spoke over him – "And how are we supposed to trust anything he says? He's the one on trial. He might say anything to exonerate himself."

Dr. Yang didn't roll his eyes, but Damon could tell he was suppressing it. And since Damon had known Dr. Yang since childhood, he knew eye rolling was a sign of suppressed rage rather than annoyance for him. Shit was about to go down.

"If that's what you think, then as an involved party, we can't trust your son's word either."

Peter's smile was now gone, replaced by the compressed line of his lips. "Then how do you suppose we get to the bottom of this?"

"You say your son was going to see Mr. Blackwell. He wasn't involved in the altercation itself, but he must have been there. I'm sure he can shed some light on the situation."

Peter straightened up, something like triumph lighting up behind his eyes. "Unfortunately, Mr. Blackwell is also a biased party in this instance. If you'll remember, Mr. Blackwell, until recently was Mr. Harper's courtship partner and still remains his heat partner. Thus, he cannot be trusted either."

Unfortunately for Peter, this was the wrong thing to say. Just when Peter thought he'd won, Dr. Yang leaned forward in his seat.

"His heat partner, you say? Well, that's very interesting. I think anyone in the crowd will agree with me when I say that an alpha in heat can get very possessive over their heat partner, especially if they feel their partner is threatened. Your son is an unmated alpha."

A muscle in Peter's jaw jumped. The crowd was completely silent, watching with rapt attention. "What's your point, Doctor?"

"Well, Mr. Reyne, if I'm not mistaken, your son and Mr. Blackwell used to date, correct?"

Peter nodded, a little reluctantly.

"Then it sounds to me as if your son knowingly approached Mr. Blackwell's house while Mr. Harper was there to instigate Mr. Harper's protective instincts, thus leading to the 'ambush' as you called it. It sounds," he paused, "like the one to blame, in this case, is your son."