4

TRIVIAS POV.

The snap of  Theron's fingers tore through the silence of the room, sharp, sudden, and terrifying. My entire body froze. I knew what was coming. My knees threatened to buckle, my hands clenching involuntarily as a cold dread curled in my stomach.

Two guards appeared instantly from the shadows, moving with precise, inhuman efficiency. They seized my arms without a word. 

“No! Please! I didn’t mean it! I regret it!” I shrieked, tears burning my eyes, chest heaving with panic. I tried to struggle, to shrink away, but their grips were unyielding, iron-hard. My bruised shoulders ached under their hold.

“Silence,” Theron’s voice cut through me, low, commanding, terrifying. Every word vibrated through my bones.

I stumbled forward as they dragged me down the cold, stone corridor. Each step was agony, my knees scraping against the floor, raw and sensitive from earlier bruises, muscles trembling. My mind raced, imagining every possible punishment, each one more horrifying than the last.

The guards stopped at a door, the air thick with anticipation. My heart thumped wildly. I forced my voice out, trembling: “Please… I didn’t mean it! I swear, I regret it!”

The door opened, revealing the sanctum, stark and suffocating in its authority. My eyes widened at the sight of the braided belt resting on the stand. My stomach dropped to my knees. I was trembling uncontrollably, sobs racking my body, terror clawing through every nerve.

“Derek is a trusted beta, for that I'll spare his new daughter, but whip her, a hundred and fifty times”

The guards forced me down, stripping away my outer layers. My bra and panties clung to me, leaving me raw, exposed, and vulnerable. I tried to curl into myself, to shield myself from what was coming, but there was no escape.

The first lash landed across my back with a scream-inducing crack. My body jerked violently, a white-hot pain erupting along my skin. I let out a strangled, desperate scream, sobs mixing with gasps for air. My muscles tensed, instinctively trying to absorb the strike, but it tore through me, searing, humiliating, complete.

Strike two followed immediately, the sting burning deeper, my back flaming with agony. My hands clawed at the cold stone floor, seeking something solid to hold onto as sobs wracked my body. I was shaking, my breath ragged and uneven.

Strike three, the pain sharpened further, every nerve in my body ignited. My vision blurred, tears running freely, dripping down my face, mixing with sweat and blood. I was utterly powerless, utterly exposed, and utterly terrified.

On the fourth strike, my body trembled violently, and a sharp, metallic scream tore from my lips. My back arched, knees quaking, my mind screaming that this could be the end. Every instinct in me screamed to flee, to vanish, but there was nowhere to run, no one to help.

Alpha Theron’s shadow fell over me, immense, unyielding. His voice broke the silence, low and terrifying, threaded with growl and authority: “Enough!”

The guards froze instantly, stepping back. I sank to the floor, shaking violently, sobs choking me, my knees weak, my back on fire. Every nerve in me screamed in pain, fear, and disbelief. My heart hammered in my chest, every breath coming in ragged, uneven bursts.

“Get out!, all of you”  He ordered again, this time I could hear the scurrying away of the guards.

I dared to lift my head, trembling, voice barely audible: “Why… Why did you stop?”

“Leave while I'm still nice” he responded coldly, his voice however wavered, as though he had no idea why he'd spoken those words.

 Every nerve was screaming at me to run, but his voice cut through the air like steel. “Leave,” he said. The words were almost gentle, almost considerate, and my stomach twisted with confusion. !Leave? Him? Now? I blinked, uncomprehending, my hands automatically bending to gather the tattered remnants of my clothing back over my bruised body. Every movement sent sharp pain along my sides, and I hissed quietly, the sound swallowed by the silence of the room.

Then I felt him behind me. The weight of him pressed against my back like a living mountain, and heat prickled over my skin where his presence lingered. My pulse leapt, every instinct screaming that this was wrong, dangerous, yet impossible to resist. His voice came again, low and commanding, curling around my spine. “Stand still.”

I stiffened, chest heaving, every muscle taut. I obeyed, my body frozen as awareness flooded me, The Alpha of the Shadowfang Pack, the man they whispered about in fear and awe, was holding me. The sheer magnitude of his presence made my knees weak, my breath caught in my throat.

His hands brushed over my wrist first, gentle but firm, wiping away the blood that had clung stubbornly to my skin. My stomach twisted as he traced slowly, deliberately, down my spine. Every nerve in my body lit up under his touch, the pressure of his fingers like fire and ice combined. My breath hitched involuntarily, and I realized with panic that my body was reacting in ways I hadn’t expected trembling, shivering, a strange warmth coiling low in my stomach.

Then his hands paused, lingering at the curve of my lower back, fingertips pressing lightly against my skin, and I bit back a whimper, heart hammering. My breath caught again. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could only feel the electricity humming between us, the tension so sharp it cut through the air.

“Where… Did you get this mark?” His voice was calm but every word carried a weight, a dangerous curiosity that made my spine tighten.

“Since… I was born,” I whispered, trembling. My voice sounded alien to me, weak and small against the commanding presence of the man behind me.

His eyes narrowed, intense and unblinking. “Impossible. Did… did your father carve this for you?”

I froze. My stomach twisted, both in fear and something I didn’t understand, as his hand lingered over the small of my back. Heat and awareness pooled deep in me, rising unbidden. My heart thundered painfully, every nerve alert, trembling at the strength pressed so near. I swallowed hard, trying to control the rising warmth, the frantic pulse racing through my veins.

“yes, he did but… my father… he’s dead,” I whispered, voice shaking.

The air seemed to thicken behind me. His gaze sharpened, piercing straight through me, and I flinched slightly, the hair on my arms standing on end.

“Is his name… Aeron?” His tone was low, deliberate, measured, and I felt the heat of it crawl across my skin.

Panic and shock made my head jerk up, eyes wide. My chest felt impossibly tight, breath uneven. How could he know? My mind scrambled, words failing me.

Before I could respond, his arms wrapped firmly around my waist, holding me in place. The contact sent a shiver racing down my spine, my body betraying me despite every desperate thought to pull away. The warmth of him, the hard strength pressing into me, the impossibly close proximity it was intoxicating, terrifying, and confusing all at once. My stomach clenched, and my knees wobbled under the intensity.

His lips hovered near my ear, dangerously close, and I inhaled sharply, trying to steady myself. I wanted to retreat, to step back, to run, but I couldn’t. His hold was inescapable, firm and commanding, and the mere presence of him was enough to set every nerve on fire.

“I know,” he whispered, low and precise, his voice vibrating through me. His hands held me steady, pressing lightly against my waist, fingertips tracing the mark again, and I felt my breath hitch anew. Every inch of me tingled from the contact, from the awareness of him. My pulse raced in my ears, echoing the drumbeat of fear and something far more primal coiling inside me.

I wanted to speak. I wanted to protest. My mind screamed, but my body was trapped, alert to every subtle motion, every inch of pressure, every brush of his hands on my skin. His presence behind me made the world shrink down to the two of us, the sharp, dangerous intimacy of it filling my senses until it was almost unbearable.

My pulse roared, heart thudding painfully as the tension wrapped tight around me. He didn’t move away; he held me in place, studying me, aware of every tremble, every shiver, every reluctant gasp. I could feel the raw, impossible tension, the forbidden electricity between us, unspoken but suffocating.

“I can feel it,” he murmured, voice deep and low, reverberating against my ear. “This mark… it speaks of your bloodline. Only children of our family bear this. Aeron was my brother…”

My stomach dropped. My chest tightened, breath coming in short, shallow bursts. My mind spun. My father… my blood… the magnitude of what he was saying hit me.

“And you, Trivia…” His words came slow, deliberate, almost reverent, and his hands tightened slightly around my waist, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind me that I was utterly in his power. “…you are my niece.”