No tears tonight. No weakness. Understand?

Clara’s POV

The courtyard reeked of blood and charred flesh, the metallic tang clinging to my skin like a second layer of shame. Garrick's body hung limp from the post, a grotesque marionette with empty sockets staring blindly at the rising sun. The pack's cheers echoed in my ears, a cacophony of approval that twisted my stomach into knots. I sagged against Taehyung, the pistol still hot in my trembling hands, his arm around my waist the only thing keeping me upright. His scent—pine, smoke, and dominance—enveloped me, a suffocating reminder that I was his. Always his.

The cheers faded into murmurs as the pack dispersed, elders nodding in grim satisfaction, guards hauling Garrick's corpse away like refuse. Evelyn lingered at the edge, her lips curved in a sly smile, eyes flicking between Taehyung and me with something like envy laced in cruelty. Minho crossed his arms, his gaze unreadable, while Seol turned away entirely, her shoulders shaking as if the violence had carved into her too.

Taehyung didn't release me. Instead, he tightened his grip, fingers digging into my hip like claws staking claim. "See what happens when you defy me?" he murmured into my ear, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through my chest. "That's the price of touching what's mine. And you, Clara—you just paid it too. Remember that the next time you think of hating me."

I pulled away—or tried to—but his hold was iron, unyielding. Fresh tears blurred my vision, mixing with the sweat and grime on my face. "You made me a killer," I whispered, my voice hoarse from screams and sobs. "You forced my hand. How can you call that justice? It's barbarism. You're a monster, Taehyung."

He laughed then—a cold, mirthless sound that sent chills racing down my spine. He spun me to face him fully, his crimson eyes locking onto mine, pupils still dilated with residual rage. "Monster? Oh, little mate, you have no idea." His free hand cupped my chin, thumb brushing over my lower lip in a mockery of tenderness. "I saved you from that filth last night. I avenged you. And this is how you repay me? With accusations? With hate?" His grip tightened, forcing my jaw to ache. "You should be on your knees thanking me. Begging for my protection."

I jerked my head away, defiance sparking through the numbness. "Thank you? For turning me into this? For parading me like a trophy while you humiliate me every day? That man wouldn't have come near me if you hadn't isolated me, marked me as weak. Your 'protection' is a cage, Taehyung. It's poison."

His expression darkened, a storm brewing in those red depths. For a moment, I thought he might strike me—his hand twitched at his side—but instead, he leaned in closer, breath hot against my neck where Garrick's bite still throbbed beneath bandages. "Poison? Then drink it down, Clara. Because without me, you'd be nothing but scraps for the pack to devour." He traced the edge of the fresh wound with his fingertip, pressing just hard enough to draw a hiss of pain from my lips. "This mark? It's a mercy compared to what I could do. I could chain you in the cells, let the omegas whisper about your failures. Or worse—parade you naked through the halls, let every eye see what belongs to me alone."

My heart pounded, fear and fury warring in my chest. "You wouldn't," I breathed, but even as I said it, I knew he would. He'd proven it time and again—the breakfast humiliations, the kennel labors, the endless commands that chipped away at my soul.

"Try me," he snarled, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "Push me further, and you'll learn just how far I'll go to break that spirit of yours. You're mine, Clara. My Luna, my property, my toy to bend or shatter as I please." He released my chin but kept his arm around my waist, guiding—forcing—me back toward the pack house. The gravel crunched under our feet, each step a reminder of my captivity.

As we entered the shadowed foyer, the air thick with the scent of polished wood and lingering fear, he paused, turning me against the wall. His body pressed close, trapping me there, one hand braced above my head. "Tell me again," he demanded, eyes boring into mine. "Tell me you hate me. Say it like you mean it."

I met his gaze, tears spilling over despite my resolve. "I hate you," I spat, voice trembling but steady. "I hate what you've done to me. To us. The boy who shared jam in the garden? He's gone. Buried under this... this tyrant."

Something flickered in his eyes—regret? Pain? It was gone in an instant, replaced by that possessive fire. "Good," he growled, leaning in until his lips brushed my ear. "Hate fuels obedience. And obedience is all I require." His hand slid down my side, fingers splaying over my hip in a grip that was both threat and claim. "Now, go to your room. Clean up. Rest. Tonight, you'll dine with the pack again—and you'll smile, Clara. You'll act the perfect Luna, or I'll make last night's nightmare look like a dream."

He stepped back abruptly, leaving me cold and shaking against the wall. I watched him stride away, his broad shoulders tense, disappearing into the depths of the house like a shadow swallowing light.

---

The climb to my chamber felt eternal, each step heavy with exhaustion and dread. My body ached—bruises blooming on my arms from Taehyung's grip, the bite on my neck pulsing like a second heartbeat. I locked the door behind me, though I knew it was futile; he had keys to every lock in this prison.

The room was as I'd left it: bed rumpled from the assault, bloodstains darkening the sheets, shards of glass from the broken painting glittering on the floor like cruel stars. I collapsed onto the edge of the mattress, burying my face in my hands. Sobs wracked me then, silent at first, then building to choked gasps that echoed off the walls. How had it come to this? From innocent laughter in sunlit gardens to blood-soaked executions at dawn. Taehyung's "justice" had saved me from Garrick, but at what cost? My hands still felt the recoil of the pistol, the warmth of splattered blood.

I stripped the black gown, wincing as fabric pulled at scabs, and bathed in the adjoining chamber. The water steamed, but no amount of scrubbing could erase the stains on my soul. I traced the original mark on my neck—Taehyung's claim, scarred and eternal—now joined by Garrick's ragged bite. Two wounds, two reminders of my place: owned, violated, unbreakable?

Dressed in a simple shift, I curled under clean linens I'd fetched from the wardrobe, but sleep was a fickle visitor. Nightmares plagued me—Garrick's hands, Taehyung's eyes, the crack of bone and the scent of acid. I woke in a sweat, the afternoon sun slanting through curtains like accusing fingers.

A knock shattered the silence. I froze, heart racing. "Who is it?"

"Seol," came the muffled reply, soft and hesitant.

I opened the door a crack, peering out. She stood there, eyes downcast, a tray balanced in her hands: herbal tea, fresh bandages, a bowl of steaming broth. "Alpha sent me," she whispered, slipping inside without meeting my gaze. "To tend to you."

I nodded, stepping back. She set the tray down, her movements efficient but gentle. As she unwrapped the old bandage on my neck, her fingers trembled. "I'm sorry," she murmured, dabbing salve on the wound. "For... everything. The courtyard. Last night. I heard the screams, but I couldn't..."

"Couldn't what?" I asked, voice sharp with pent-up anger. "Intervene? No one does. Not against him."

She flinched. "He's Alpha. We obey. But Clara... you're Luna. You could change things. If you endure."

"Endure?" I laughed bitterly, wincing as the motion pulled at my skin. "That's all I do. Endure his cruelty, his commands. He treats me like dirt, Seol. Parades my shame."

She tied the new bandage, her eyes flicking up briefly. "He wasn't always like this. The war... it broke him. But he protected you last night. Killed for you today. That means something."

"Means I'm property," I snapped. "Not a person. Not a mate."

She gathered her things, pausing at the door. "Maybe. But in this pack, property survives. Fight him openly, and you'll end up like Garrick. Play his game, Clara. Bend, don't break."

Her words lingered as she left, a seed of strategy in the soil of my despair.

---

Evening descended like a shroud. A maid delivered a gown—emerald silk, high-necked to hide my wounds, but form-fitting, a display of possession. I dressed mechanically, pinning my hair with shaking hands. The mirror reflected a stranger: pale, haunted eyes, lips pressed thin against unspoken screams.

Taehyung fetched me himself, his knock authoritative. He entered without waiting, appraising me with a slow scan. "Better," he grunted. "No tears tonight. No weakness. Understand?"

I nodded, throat tight.

He offered his arm—a rare gesture—and I took it, feeling the corded muscle beneath his sleeve. We descended to the dining hall, the pack already assembled. Heads turned, whispers slithering like snakes. Evelyn's eyes narrowed, Minho's gaze flicked to my neck, hidden but not forgotten.

Taehyung seated me at his right, his hand lingering on my shoulder. "Eat," he commanded under his breath. "Smile."

The meal was a blur of forced pleasantries. Roast venison, spiced wine, conversations about borders and hunts. Taehyung dominated, his voice booming, but his eyes strayed to me often, watchful.

Midway, Evelyn leaned forward, her smile saccharine. "Luna, you look... recovered. After such a trying dawn. Tell us, how does it feel to wield justice?"

The table quieted. Taehyung's fork paused.

I met her gaze, channeling Seol's advice. "Empowering," I lied, voice steady. "A reminder that the pack protects its own."

Taehyung's hand found my knee under the table, squeezing—not painfully, but possessively. "Well said," he murmured, approval laced with warning.

But as dessert arrived—honeyed fruits that mocked childhood memories—his mood shifted. He leaned close, breath warm. "After this, you come to my chambers. No arguments."

My heart stuttered. "Why?"

His fingers tightened. "To remind you who you belong to. Gently, this time. Or not—your choice."

I swallowed, fear coiling anew. The night stretched ahead, a new battlefield.