Chapter 6: fibber

The heavy double doors swung wide—and before I could draw breath, Anabel moved.

Her fingers clamped around my right wrist like an iron snare, the sheer speed of her grip sending a sharp sting up my arm. Before I could pull back or gasp, she slammed my hand directly into her chest, hooked her heel behind her ankle, and threw herself violently backward onto the polished granite floor.

THUD.

A sharp, ear-splitting scream tore from her throat as she hit the ground.

I froze in horror, my hand still trembling in the air like a bloody confession.

Footsteps thundered down the hall, and four massive shadows filled the doorway. The moment their eyes locked onto Anabel sprawled on the floor, the air in the room transformed—thickening with absolute, lethal Alpha fury.

"Anabel!" Darian thundered, his jaw flexing as his eyes flared a violent, dangerous crimson. "What did this rogue do to you?"

Anabel lay on the cold stone, her dark hair scattered, eyes brimming with forced, glistening tears as she raised a trembling finger toward me. "She... she pushed me!" she sobbed softly. "She told me I had no right to order her around!"

"I didn't!" My voice shook violently as I took a desperate step backward. "She grabbed my hand! She threw herself—"

Darian was already moving.

There was no warning. No hesitation. In a fraction of a second, he closed the distance between us like a war predator breaking through cover.

CRACK.

His open palm struck the side of my face with the force of an iron mallet. The blow snapped my head back, stolen air bursting from my lungs in a strangled gasp. Before I could regain my footing, his heavy hand slammed into my shoulder, shoving me downward with brutal force.

My knees struck the hard granite floor first.

A sickening, tearing agony ripped through my joints as skin split and bone hit stone. A ragged scream broke from my throat as my legs buckled entirely under the impact. I collapsed onto my side, my palms scraping uselessly against the cold floor as pain surged straight up my spine.

"How dare you lay a hand on my sister!" Darian roared, his voice shaking the vaulted ceiling, his Alpha aura pressing down so heavily it felt like my chest was being crushed.

"I didn't!" I choked out, clutching my torn, bleeding knee with trembling fingers. "I swear on the Goddess, I didn't push her!"

Cassian stepped forward—and somehow, his presence was far more terrifying than Darian's rage.

Cassian didn't roar. He didn't rush me. He simply stopped a few inches from where I lay in the dirt, staring down at me with cold, fractured red eyes that held no mercy, no warmth, and no doubt.

Meanwhile, Valerian dropped to his knees beside Anabel, his large hands hovering over her with frantic, possessive concern. "Are you hurt? Did she touch your neck?"

"She shoved me..." Anabel whimpered, burying her face against Valerian's chest, her grip curling tight into his tunic. Over his shoulder, her tear-filled eyes locked onto mine—sharp, venomous, and dripping with silent triumph.

Valerian's jaw clenched until his muscles turned to iron. He rose to his feet and turned toward me.

CRACK.

The backhand came without warning.

My head slammed sideways into the stone tile, light exploding behind my eyes in a blinding, white flash. A high-pitched ringing drowned out the room as dark blood bloomed across my tongue, spilling past my cracked lips onto the granite floor.

"Valerian..." I gasped, my vision swimming in dark red hues.

"You touched our sister," Valerian hissed, his voice cold enough to freeze blood. "You don't deserve to breathe."

"Enough," Cassian’s voice cut through the room like a blade sliding from a scabbard.

The room fell instantly silent.

Cassian looked down at my shivering, blood-stained form as if I were a venomous pest crawling beneath his heel. "You dare insult and assault a daughter of the Bloodmoon dynasty."

"I didn't..." I whispered hoarsely, blood dripping from my chin.

Anabel sat up slowly, resting her head against Valerian's leg, her gaze fixed on me. "She's lying. Rogues always lie."

Darian scoffed, drawing a serrated hunting blade from his belt. "Let me slit her throat and throw her back to the border. I never wanted this Crest filth in our keep anyway!"

"No," Cassian overruled coldly, his red eyes burning down into mine. "Death is too simple a release. It would be an insult to Anabel."

He turned his head slightly toward the open archway. "Guards."

Two heavily armed enforcers stepped inside immediately, bowing their heads.

"Rogue 456," Cassian announced, his voice echoing off the cold stone like a death sentence. "For the crime of assaulting Princess Anabel, I sentence you to fifty lashes at the public post."

My heart stopped beating.

Fifty.

Fifty lashes from a wolf-hide whip would tear the flesh from my ribs. In my weakened, unhealed state, I wouldn't survive twenty.

"No..." I gasped, my breath stuttering in my chest. "Please... I can't... it will kill me..."

"Assemble the entire pack in the courtyard," Cassian added, ignoring my pleas completely. "I will personally oversee every strike."

Darian grunted in dark approval. Valerian turned his back to me, cradling Anabel. Lucian leaned lazily against the far pillar, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes silently tracking the pool of blood forming near my head.

"Please!" I sobbed, tears cutting pale trails through the dirt on my cheeks as the guards stepped forward and seized my arms. "I didn't do it! I swear on my life! I'll stay in the cell! I won't ever come near her again!"

As they yanked me up, my shattered knee gave out, forcing my full weight onto my torn joints. I looked up through my tears, locking eyes with Anabel one last time.

"Why do you hate me?" I whispered brokenly.

Anabel's eyes hardened into ice, her lips curling into a cruel, silent sneer.

The guards began dragging me backward out the door, my bare feet scraping uselessly across the stone floor as pain radiated through every nerve ending in my body.

Fifty whips. Fifty whips.

The number echoed endlessly in my mind like a funeral march. Vernia whimpered in the dark corners of my mind, too weak to heal me if my back was torn open again. I squeezed my eyes shut, choking on the metallic taste of my own blood as cold courtyard air rushed over my skin.

"She won't last ten," one guard muttered under his breath.

"Not our concern," the other replied, tightening his grip on my bruised wrist.

Despair swallowed me whole. I was going to die here—not by the teeth of wild rogues, but under the leather whips of my own unacknowledged mates.

"Stop!"

A sharp, commanding bark cut through the echoing corridor.

The guards halted instantly. I opened my swollen eyes just enough to see Lucian step out from the doorway, his lazy demeanor gone, his dark gaze locked straight onto my bleeding face.