His to Claim

Abbey’s Point of View

The next thing I knew, I was standing under the harsh sun. My hair stuck to my face in the hot breeze, my skin burning where it wasn’t already bruised. I should have felt warmth, life—maybe freedom—but instead there was only pain.

I winced as the cane struck my back again. My lips stayed sealed; screaming only earned me more lashes. My face still throbbed from the claws and the slap. There was no point adding fuel to their fire.

I shuffled forward, last in a single file line. Kane, Titi’s brother, walked just ahead of me—we’d shared a cell minutes ago. Now we were here, marching towards death.

“Keep moving. Don’t slow down,” the main guard barked, his voice bouncing off the trees. Fifty of us—prisoners—herded through the woods by armed guards. They told us to be quiet and obey “or else.” I didn’t want to know what “or else” meant. I could guess.

My thoughts spiraled. How would they do it? A public execution? A bullet to the head? Maybe something worse. The Red Moon Pack wasn’t known for mercy.

We walked in silence except for the guards’ taunts and the sound of bare feet scraping against the forest floor. My feet were raw but I forced myself to keep up. Kane stumbled once but caught himself. After ten minutes, the line slowed, then stopped. We stood in a clearing—wide, open, surrounded by trees.

A lump rose in my throat. The clearing looked like one from my old pack—Victory Pack. Every Saturday, after breakfast, I’d take the pups there to run and play. I saw Jake—little Jake—laughing, leaves swirling around him. His hair bouncing in the wind. His giggle. He died the day they attacked us. I felt a tear escape but wiped it quickly. No weakness.

“Stay in line. Face the forest.” The main guard barked again. We obeyed, shoulder to shoulder, backs to the guards. I didn’t know if it was worse to see death coming or feel it behind me.

A hush fell. “Today is Ejection Day,” the main guard sneered. “Hope you enjoyed your stay here in Red Moon Pack. We need room for new friends.” He said calmly.

I scoffed silently. Friends. What a joke.

“Our Alpha and Beta will oversee this dismissal,” the guard went on. “Any disrespect will mean death.”

A laugh almost escaped me. We’re about to die anyway.

More pack members gathered behind us. The air grew heavy—thick with tension and old fear. I couldn’t breathe. The scent of fresh wood and leather filled my nose—same scent from when our pack fell. I’d ignored it then, too busy helping pups and the wounded escape.

“Alpha Jeremy. Beta Eric,” the guard said now, voice suddenly polite. “We’re ready.”

My shoulders shook. Tears streamed down my face as I tried not to sob. That smell—wood and leather—choked me. It was everywhere.

“Pleasure to meet you too, Josh,” Beta Eric said. “How many?”

“Forty,” Josh, the guard, replied, sounding proud.

Eric paused. “Any trouble?”

“No, Beta.”

Silence. My breath hitched. I bit my lip hard, but the sobs broke through.

“Everything alright, Alpha Jeremy?” Eric asked.

“No.”

One word. That voice—deep, cold—rolled through the clearing like thunder. I’d heard rumors of him. Monsters wearing a man’s skin. I pictured him as something dark and twisted. But his voice—steady, calm—felt worse.

Leaves crunched behind me. Slow, steady footsteps. They stopped right at my back. I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Turn around, pup,” Alpha Jeremy said.

My knees almost buckled. I wanted to run, to vanish into the woods. But when an Alpha commands, you obey. My body moved on its own. I turned, eyes down.

“Look up.”

I swallowed, lifted my gaze. He stood under the sun, tall and broad. Sweat glistened on his brow. His face was hard, unreadable. Sunlight caught in his hair. He looked like power wrapped in flesh.

“Mine,” Alpha Jeremy said.