The Lycan Medical Authority's hearing room was smaller than the High Council chamber and somehow more intimidating for it.
No grand architecture. No history embedded in stone. Just a plain room with a long table, three panel members, a court recorder, and the specific clinical seriousness of a body whose entire purpose was determining whether someone was fit to hold a scalpel.
I wore the white coat.
The one with my name on it.
Zevran sat directly behind me. Not beside me — the seating didn't allow it. But close enough that I could feel the bond's steady warmth without turning around.
Adisa sat at the table beside me.
Crone's legal team sat across.
Three lawyers I had not seen before, the kind hired specifically for this — sharp, well-prepared, the visible product of money that was r
