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The wolfsbane-laced whip cracked across my back for the third time today, and I bit down on my tongue hard enough to taste copper. Blood was better than the scream that wanted to tear from my throat,screams only encouraged them.
"Nineteen years of breathing our air, Fenris," Beta Marcus snarled, his breath hot against my ear as I remained bent over the wooden post in the center of the pack's training ground. "Nineteen years of taking food that should go to loyal wolves."
The morning sun beat down mercilessly, but the heat was nothing compared to the fire spreading across my shredded back. Around us, pack members had gathered to watch, some with satisfaction, others with the casual indifference of those who'd grown bored of my daily punishments. No one intervened. No one ever did.
"Your parents' betrayal cost us everything," Marcus continued, raising the whip again. "Women, children, our Alpha,all dead because of Fenris treachery."
I kept my eyes fixed on the dirt beneath my knees, watching my blood drip into the dust. Today was different, though. Today was my nineteenth birthday, and something wild and desperate was clawing at my chest, demanding I lift my head and fight back.
But I'd learned long ago that fighting only made it worse.
The whip whistled through the air again, but this time a different sound cut through the morning,a low, rumbling growl that made every wolf in the vicinity freeze. The leather never touched my skin.
"Enough."
That single word carried the weight of absolute authority, spoken in a voice that could make mountains bow. I didn't need to look up to know who had arrived. Alpha Larry Talbot's presence was like a physical force, pressing down on everyone around him.
"Alpha," Marcus stammered, the whip falling slack in his grip. "I was just,"
"You were just forgetting your place." Larry's voice was arctic cold, each word precise and cutting. "Release her."
My restraints fell away, and I slowly straightened, my back screaming in protest. I finally raised my head to meet the gaze of the man who had orchestrated my torment for eight years.
Larry stood at the edge of the training ground like a dark angel of vengeance, his black hair catching the sunlight and his silver eyes promising death to anyone who dared challenge him. At twenty-nine, he was everything an Alpha should be,tall, powerful, and radiating the kind of dominance that made other wolves instinctively submit.
Everything except merciful.
"Go," he commanded the gathered wolves, and they scattered like leaves before a hurricane. Only Marcus hesitated.
"Alpha, the punishment isn't complete. Pack law states,"
"Pack law states that I decide when punishment is complete." Larry's eyes never left mine as he spoke. "And I decide that today, Lyra Fenris serves a different purpose."
My heart stopped. In eight years, he had never spoken my name aloud. I was always 'the traitor's daughter' or 'Fenris spawn' or simply 'it' when he was feeling particularly cruel.
Marcus bowed his head and retreated, leaving me alone with the man who held my life in his hands.
"Stand up straight," Larry ordered, his voice carrying that Alpha command that made my wolf whimper in submission.
I forced myself to my feet, ignoring the way my torn back protested. Blood soaked through my threadbare shirt, but I met his gaze without flinching. Whatever game he was playing, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me break.
"Tonight is the full moon gathering," he said, circling me like a predator studying its prey. "You will attend."
The words hit me like a physical blow. "Alpha, I,"
"You will attend," he repeated, stopping directly in front of me. "And you will kneel before the pack as I name you what you truly are,a living reminder of treachery, a symbol of the price of betrayal."
My chest tightened, but I forced my voice to remain steady. "As you wish, Alpha."
Something flickered across his face,surprise, perhaps, or annoyance at my composure. He stepped closer, close enough that I could smell his scent: pine, leather, and something darker that made my wolf pace restlessly.
"You will not embarrass me tonight, Fenris. You will accept whatever judgment the pack deems fit, and you will do it with the dignity your parents never possessed."
The injustice of it burned in my throat, but I simply nodded. "I understand, Alpha."
He stared at me for a long moment, his silver eyes searching my face for something I didn't understand. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the center of the training ground.
As his footsteps faded, I allowed myself one moment of weakness. One moment to let my shoulders sag, to feel the full weight of nineteen years of punishment for crimes I'd never committed.
But only one moment.
Because tonight, under the full moon, something was going to change. I could feel it in my bones, in the way my wolf was pacing and whining, in the strange electricity that seemed to dance across my skin.
Tonight, the girl who had endured everything in silence was going to discover that some chains were meant to be broken.
The halls were too quiet that night.Too still.Too heavy with something I couldn’t name.After dinner, after Larry shattered the cup and stormed out, I stayed in my room pretending to read, pretending to breathe normally, pretending not to replay the scene a thousand times.Pretending not to imagine what he would do next…or who he would run to.The lamps burned low.The moonlight painted silver lines across the floor.Sleep avoided me as stubbornly as Larry avoided kindness.The silence unsettled me.Usually, I could hear Larry’s footsteps somewhere, his pacing, his muttering, his anger simmering through the walls.Tonight... nothing.No movement.No sound.No presence.I shouldn’t have cared.But the silence felt wrong.I sighed and pushed off the bed. “Just check,” I whispered to myself. “Just… see if he’s alive. That’s all.”That was the lie I told.I left my room quietly, closing the door with barely a click. The corridor was dim, candlelight flickering weakly against the stone
Dinner in the great hall always felt like a performance. Not a meal. Not a gathering. A stage built for power, politics, and silent wars. The long tables were already full when I entered. Warriors, elders, families. Eyes flicking up, pausing on me, then darting away as if looking too long would stain them. Zara sat beside Larry dressed like she owned the world, leaning close enough that her perfume clouded the air around him. She laughed at something he said, touching his arm with deliberate sweetness. He didn’t move away. He never moved away. I forced my lungs to work as I walked to my usual place further down, near the servants and lower-ranked wolves. It had become the only place where I could breathe. But I hadn’t even reached it when Larry’s voice cut across the hall. “Lyra.” Every conversation stilled. Every eye turned. Zara smiled like she’d been waiting for this exact moment. I lifted my chin. “Yes?” Larry gestured lazily to the empty spot in fron
LyraThe council chamber always felt colder than the rest of the pack house.Maybe it was the stone walls.Maybe the high ceiling that swallowed every whisper.Or maybe it was the way every pair of eyes always seemed sharpened, watching, weighing, waiting for someone to bleed.Today was no different.Except this time, I was the one standing in the center.The Elders sat in their semicircle, robes dark as storm clouds. Zara was off to the side near her family, smugness practically dripping off her like perfume. Larry stood near the head chair, arms crossed, gaze blank.Silent.Unmoving.Unhelpful.Elder Rowan tapped the butt of his staff against the floor. “Luna Lyra, we have called this assembly to assess your preparedness to fulfill your duties.”Preparedness.That dangerous word.I clasped my hands behind me. “I understand.”Zara stepped forward, voice sugar-coated. “The Luna plays an important role in upholding our customs. I’m sure Lyra won’t mind answering a few questions.”A few
The pup, whom I’d started calling “Ash”…slept curled beside my pillow, small chest rising and falling with delicate, uneven breaths. She was healing slowly, but she was healing.And somehow, taking care of her loosened something tight around my heart. I wasn’t whole, not even close, but the cracks didn’t feel as sharp when she was near.Still… I couldn’t stay locked in my room forever.I needed to breathe different air.I needed people who weren’t Larry or Zara.I needed something, anything to remind me that I wasn’t invisible here.So that afternoon, I made my way toward the servant quarters.Several maids were gathered near the laundry line, folding fresh linens. Their chatter ebbed the moment I approached, drifting off into awkward silence.A few bowed stiffly.A few looked at the ground.One walked away entirely, pretending she suddenly remembered a chore.I forced a gentle smile. “Good afternoon.”Two mumbled a quiet greeting.No one met my eyes.I stepped closer. “I wanted to ch
LyraI needed air.Real air. Quiet air. Air that didn’t smell like betrayal and whispered rumors and Zara’s perfume clinging to the walls like mold.So I slipped out of the pack house through the back corridor, past the cold stone, past the stares I pretended not to see, and into the open grounds behind the eastern training field.The sun was dipping low, staining the sky a bruised red. The wind brushed against my cheeks, sharp but cleansing. For the first time all day, I felt my lungs loosen.Just walk, Lyra.Walk until the ache dulls.The ground was still damp from morning rain, the grass cool beneath my shoes. I wrapped my cloak tighter around myself, letting the quiet settle into my bones.Silence was a strange comfort.It didn’t ask questions.It didn’t judge.It didn’t compare me to Zara.I kept walking past the stables, past the training pit where dried blood stained the sand, and into the small wooded area at the edge of the territory.Then I heard it…A sound so soft I almost
She gently pulled her hand free, the movement so smooth I couldn't have stopped it without truly hurting her."...am simply adjusting."The words felt like claws dragging slowly down my spine. Not quick and sharp like a clean wound. Slow and deliberate, leaving tracks that would scar."You think this is adjustment?" I heard myself say. "This silence? This distance?""It's peace.""You think ignoring me is peace?""No." She met my eyes fully, and for a moment the mask slipped just enough to show me the truth. "It's survival."The word hit like a physical blow.Survival.Not defiance. Not revenge. Not even conscious choice.Survival.The way prey learns to go still when the predator is near. The way wounded things find dark places to heal or die in peace.I was the thing she needed to survive.That realization, that understanding of how she saw me, how she'd been forced to see me, felt







