They bound me to the iron rack in the center of the estate courtyard, my body stretched taut like an animal prepared for skinning.
The cold metal bit through my thin clothes, pressing into my scraped chest and hipbones as heavy iron clamps snapped shut around my wrists and ankles.
Every ridge of the iron frame dug into my bruised skin, as if the very courtyard had transformed into an altar for my destruction.
A few yards away, my father sat in his high carved stone chair, his posture unnaturally straight, his face a mask carved from ice.
He didn’t look at me as a child pleading for mercy.
He stared at me like a disgraced asset whose execution was long overdue.
I couldn’t stop my eyes from wandering.
Selene was curled tightly against Derick’s side, tucked under his arm like a fragile flower shivering in the autumn wind.
He wrapped his thick cloak around her shoulders, holding her close with protective intensity.
They both stared down at my bound frame—Selene with wide, glistening eyes that shimmered with wicked satisfaction behind her fake tears, and Derickwith absolute, unadulterated hatred.
Neither of them blinked.
“Begin,” my father commanded, his voice devoid of human warmth.
The order was followed instantly by a terrifying whistle in the air.
The whip struck before my brain could process the movement.
Crack.
An explosion of white-hot agony tore across my shoulders, searing straight through skin and muscle.
My spine buckled violently against the iron restraints as an ear-splitting scream ripped from my lungs.
The force of it felt like liquid fire poured directly over raw flesh, peeling away my skin in a single, devastating stroke.
I gasped frantically for air, my throat dry, my face drenched in instant tears as I pressed my forehead into the freezing metal.
Then came the second strike.
This one landed lower, hitting with heavy, sickening force.
It smashed into my back like a sledgehammer, driving every drop of oxygen out of my lungs.
A terrifying, dead numbness swept through my lower half, replacing the burning agony with an icy, paralyzing dread.
A sharp, horrible sound echoed off the stone walls.
Snap.
My blood ran cold.
Panic hit me harder than the pain.
Goddess, my spine…
will I ever walk again?
The thought screamed in my mind as my legs dangled uselessly against the frame.
Deep within my soul, my wolf roared in agony.
She thrashing against my ribcage, her claws tearing at our shared consciousness in a desperate attempt to break free and defend us.
Her panic fed into mine, doubling the unbearable torment until my chest felt like it was going to burst.
The third whip tore into my skin before I could draw another breath.
My senses began to fracture.
The edges of my vision turned black, the light fading into dark, swimming shapes.
The furious faces in the crowd melted into shadowy smears.
My screams dissolved into ragged, wet gasps as the strength drained from my body.
Consciousness slipped away like sand through my fingers.
My eyelids grew heavy.
I fought with everything I had to stay present, to keep my eyes open, but my broken body gave out.
Everything was fire and darkness.
The fourth whip slammed down.
My spine jerked against the iron clamps as the world fractured into pure, unadulterated agony one last time.
A hot, thick surge welled up in my throat.
I choked, coughing violently as a mouthful of dark crimson blood spewed onto the grey stone floor beneath the rack.
The sounds faded.
The light died out.
The blackness swallowed me whole.
SPLASH!
A shock of freezing, ice-filled water hit my face and neck, forcing my lungs to expand with a ragged gasp.
My eyes snapped open, my body convulsing against the cold that sank straight into my open wounds.
Every exposed nerve screamed out at once—the biting ice clashing violently with the raw, burning lashes on my back.
I blinked through the blur, shivering uncontrollably, until a shadow blocked out the gray sky.
Derick.
He stood over the rack, holding an empty wooden bucket, his lip curled back in utter disgust.
“Pathetic,” he sneered, tossing the bucket to the flagstones with a loud clatter.
“You couldn’t even survive four strokes before passing out?
And you thought you were worthy of wearing a crown?” He let out a dark, harsh laugh.
“You’re a disgrace.”
His words stabbed deeper than the freezing water soaking into my torn clothes.
I tried to pull my arms inward, only to realize I was still completely paralyzed, strapped down, and defenseless.
Derick turned toward the executioner, his patience snapped.
“Give me the scourge,” he ordered coldly, snatching the leather whip from the guard’s hands.
“I’ll handle this myself.
A brother should teach his own sister her place.”
The words broke what little was left of my heart.
Tears spilled over my bruised cheeks as I forced my neck to turn, locking my blurry gaze onto him.
I had always known Derickdespised me.
I knew he viewed me as an embarrassment, a nuisance to be ignored.
But this?
I never knew his heart was so utterly black.
My lips moved, trying to form a single word—why?—but all that came out was a broken, pitiful sob that dissolved into the freezing air.
WHOOSH!
The leather cut through the air with terrifying speed.
The fifth whip tore into my back with cruel, unchecked power.
Agony beyond comprehension shattered my world.
A guttural scream tore from my throat, raw and agonizing.
Derick’s blow was far worse than the guard’s—filled with personal malice and deliberate force.
My wet cardigan offered zero protection, clinging like a second skin as the leather dug deep into the raw flesh beneath, tearing me open.
My body twisted frantically against the iron bonds, my muscles locking in a terrible spasm as I choked on my own breath.
I couldn’t survive this.
I was going to die on this iron table.
Derickraised his arm high above his head, stepping in to deliver the sixth stroke with full force.
Just as the scourge began its downward arc, a voice boomed across the courtyard—so loud, so dominant, it shook the very ground beneath our feet.
“HALT!”
The word reverberated off the high stone walls like a crack of thunder.
Derick’s arm froze in mid-air.
Using the absolute last drop of my failing strength, I forced my chin up off the metal frame, my neck muscles screaming in protest.
Through a thick haze of blood and tears, three figures stepped through the archway.
The Alpha Triplets.
They moved with suffocating power, their expressions carved from hardened volcanic glass.
Kael surged to the front of the trio, his golden eyes burning with an unstable, dangerous fire as he closed the distance.
“I said STOP!” Kael roared again, his voice cutting through the silent court like a broadsword.
My heart hammered weakly against my cracked ribs, a wave of sickening confusion washing over me.
What is happening?
Hadn’t they rejected me?
Hadn’t they traded me away to Selene without a second thought, discarding me into the dust like trash?
Why were they standing between me and the whip?