what could I do with so little power?

Clara’s POV

It was midnight, the hour when nightmares crawl out from beneath the bed and lay beside you. I woke abruptly—if I’d even truly slept—with my heart slamming into my ribs. The sharp, metallic twang of shattered glass lingered in the air. It sounded so final, so violent, as if the room itself had been split open.

For a moment, I didn’t know if I was awake or still lost in the muddle of half-memories and images that haunted my head every time I closed my eyes: blood on marble, Lamplight flickering on Lisa’s fallen hair, Taehyung’s hand at my throat. Somewhere in this place, there had to be a world in which I could breathe again, but it wasn’t this one.

A shadow moved beyond the bed canopy. I flinched instinctively—too sharp, too loud, as if movement alone might draw punishment.

The air sizzled with whiskey and anger long before I saw him clearly. The Alpha—my husband, my captor, my enemy—stood over the ruins of what looked like an expensive decanter, jagged edges gleaming on the rug.

His shirt was half-unbuttoned, exposing the hard ridges of his chest and the angry red scars that raked across his collarbone. His hair was wild, the same black as the night outside the windows, but his eyes… those black eyes were molten. Once I had searched their depths for affection, drowning in every secret curve of his smile. Now those same eyes locked onto mine like a beast scenting prey.

He took a swig from the whiskey bottle in his fist. I heard the glug, watched his throat move as he swallowed hard. He was already drunk. And still drinking.

My blood went cold. There was nothing more dangerous than Taehyung with grief in his heart and rage on his tongue.

He staggered forward, heavy boots stomping on broken glass and crushing it deeper into the carpet. “Broke something,” he muttered, as if I hadn’t noticed. His voice scraped over me, rough, ragged—far from the smooth charm I remembered from another lifetime.

He lurched to the edge of the bed, looming over me. The light from the hallway cast him in relief, every cruel angle of his jaw sharper than the next. “You’re awake,” he said. Not a question. A statement. An accusation.

For one desperate second I wished I could pretend sleep—let the darkness swallow me whole. Maybe he’d go away, stumble back to wherever it was he slept these days. But pretending was useless. Not with him.

“I… I wasn’t sleeping,” I lied, curling in on myself, messy hair hiding my face. My voice trembled. Everything about me trembled.

Taehyung’s eyes swept over me, slow and merciless. “You’re a terrible liar.” He let the bottle dangle casually from his fingertips. “Did you think you’d be safe if you kept your mouth shut, little wolf?”

“No…” The word was whisper-thin.

He grinned—a humorless, fractured thing. He took another swig, liquor dribbling down his chin. “You sound scared, Clara. Are you scared?”

I wanted to say nothing, to lock all my fear, all my humiliation, behind the thickest walls I could construct. But my shaking hands betrayed me. I squeezed them tighter, digging my nails into my palm until I felt a bead of wetness.

He saw, of course. He saw everything.

“You should be. I warned you, you remember?” His voice dropped, velvety and lethal. “Did you listen?”

He slammed the bottle down so hard on the nightstand that whiskey fanned out in a puddle, dripping down onto Lisa’s old lace handkerchief—another thing the house hadn’t bothered to bury. He must have noticed. He ripped it off the table and tossed it into the flames.

I huddled further into the headboard, pressing my shoulders against cold wood as if it might shelter me.

He leered, one hand on the wall above my head, leaning in so close I could feel the brush of his breath on my cheek. He smelled like bitterness—liquor, sweat, wet earth, and something darker, something wild and feral beneath the surface. He was poison in human form.

“You want to run from me, Clara?” His lips brushed my ear. “Try.”

My throat clenched. “I… I’m not running.”

A low chuckle rolled out of him. “No, you’re not. You know why?” He pressed his thumb to my jaw, forcing my chin up so I had no choice but to meet his gaze. His grip was bruising, a wordless warning. “Because you’re too much of a coward. And because you know exactly how I punish traitors.”

My breath hitched. “I’m not—”

He didn’t let me finish. “You watched me, Clara. You remember what I did to them.” His gaze flickered, deep and black as tar. I remembered. I could never forget.

“I—” I croaked. “You killed them. I'm innocent—”

He squeezed. “Innocent? Here’s how I measure innocence: the guilty die, and the innocent live. Those who hurt me—hurt my Luna—don’t get to plead innocence.”

“You said—” I struggled to speak, but my voice broke. “You said I was to blame for Lisa. Why?”

He laughed again, low and brittle. “She died because of you.”

I felt the floor tilt. “Because of me?” I tried to challenge, but my words were feeble.

“You wear my mark,” he sneered, shaking his head. “My Luna dies and a filthy omega wears her crown. You set this in motion the moment you breathed her air.” His words were acid.

“Lisa was my best friend!” My voice cracked. “If I could trade—if I could give her back—”

He cut me off, his palm dragging down my face, almost gentle if it weren’t for the sinister curl of his fingers. “Don’t say her name. You don’t deserve to speak her name. You took everything from me. So I’ll return the favor.”

He suddenly released my jaw, pushing my face away so hard my teeth rattled.

I gasped, blinking away tears I didn’t want him to see.

His expression only darkened, eyes raking over my form. “Look at you. The whole pack can see your disgrace. You wear it like perfume.”

I pressed a hand over my heart, trying to still the panic fluttering inside. “Why are you doing this?” I managed, my voice raw.

He barked a rough laugh. “Because I can. Because you need to remember, every day, every damned minute, that this was your fault.” He leaned in again, so close I could see a single tear line that had long since dried on his cheekbone. “And because you’re mine now, Clara Carter. You belong to me. You answer for her death with your life.”

My wolf twisted beneath my skin, desperate to defend me, but what could I do with so little power?

He prowled along the edge of the bed, making a spectacle of his control. When I tried to scoot away, he reached out, snatching my ankle and yanking me back so hard I nearly fell onto the floor. My pulse thundered.

He placed a heavy hand on my thigh, keeping me still. “You looked at me tonight, in front of my pack, like you hated me. Is that how you want to play this?” His voice walked a thin line between coaxing and threatening.

I didn’t trust my voice, so I shook my head, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said softly, each word a razor. “You should hate me. It would make this easier. For both of us.”

I felt tears rising, hot and helpless.

He lifted my chin once more, fingers digging into my skin. “Say it. Tell me you hate me.”

He waited. I bit my lip, fighting the urge to spit the words back at him.

He grinned. “Too stubborn to speak? Maybe I need to loosen your tongue.” His thumb swept roughly over my lower lip, pressing so hard I tasted copper.

“Stop, please,” I choked, but he just cocked his head, mocking.

“Begging already? Pathetic.” He dragged his thumb along my cheek, smearing my tears. “You think that’ll earn you mercy?”

He leaned close, his mouth just above my ear. “Do you know what I do to those who beg, Clara?”

“I—I don’t want this,” I whispered.

He bared his teeth. “You don’t get to want anything, little wolf. Not anymore.”

His words landed like a blow.

Then, with terrifying suddenness, he pressed me back into the headboard and crashed his lips against mine. It was not a kiss—it was a claim, a punishment, a declaration of war. His mouth was hard, wild, flooding my senses with whiskey and wrath. His teeth scraped my skin, biting down until I whimpered, until he drew blood.

I pushed at his chest, desperate—every part of me screamed to escape. He was iron, immovable, the storm I could never weather. The old Taehyung—the one who had undressed me clumsily in moonlight and swore he would protect me from everything and everyone—had been replaced by this furious beast.

He pulled back, just enough for air, keeping his palm in the center of my chest, pinning me. “No, s-stop....for god sake....just stop...! You can’t touch me without my permission! Do you understand??” I managed to gasp, chest heaving with every sob.

“Do I really need your fucking permission, little wolf?” His eyes glittered. “Do you really think there’s anyone left who’ll save you from me?”

The depth of his cynicism cut deeper than any bruise.

“Yes,” I said anyway. I don’t know where the word came from. But it dropped between us, fragile but unbowed.

His cruel smile returned. “Wrong answer.” He fisted the hem of my dress, yanking it upward. My skin burned beneath his harsh touch.

I thrashed, panic unstoppable. “Don’t!”

He snarled, slamming his mouth against mine again. This time it was pure dominance—pain and punishment, not a trace of tenderness.

“Fight me, then,” he taunted, breaking away just enough to let me see the challenge in his eyes. “I want to see your wolf, Clara. Show me how you plan to survive.”

I shook my head, sobbing. “Please… you’re hurting me—”

“I intend to,” he spat. “You think you’re the only one bleeding? I lost everything, and I’m left with you.”

His hand traced my collarbone, lingering over the mark he’d bitten the night before. “See this? This is the only thing that matters now. This mark. This shame. You’ll wear it until the end.”

I felt sick. My body shook. But deep inside, my wolf retaliated. She surged up, growling so loudly I thought for a minute Taehyung could hear her too.

Don’t let him win, she howled.

I lashed out, raking my nails down his arm. His skin opened under my nails, thin red lines trailing after my fury.

He barely flinched—if anything, his lips twisted into a smile even more terrible, wolfish in its delight.

“That’s more like it,” he purred. “I want to see how long you last before you break.”

He locked my wrists above my head with one hand, winding the thin sheet around them like a shackle. The other hand traced lower, cold and cruel.

“I hate you,” I hissed, spitting the words at him with everything I had left.

He studied me—like I was rare prey, or a puzzle he meant to dismantle. “Perfect. I want your hate, Clara. It tastes almost as sweet as your fear.”

He kissed me again, unforgiving and deep, swallowing my breath, drinking my terror.

I could do nothing. My body was a ragdoll in the grip of a hurricane.

At last, he pulled away, leaving me gasping, lips swollen and stinging, wrists bruised. There was something almost absent in his gaze—a flicker of the broken boy I'd once loved, devoured by cruelty and madness.

He let me drop back onto the mattress, huffing a ragged breath himself. For a moment I thought it was over. I thought maybe, just maybe, the worst was past for tonight.

Then he stretched out beside me, hauling me against his side, his arm heavy over my waist like a manacle. He pressed his face into my hair, breathing me in, his warmth both anchoring and suffocating.

I lay there rigid, every muscle screaming for freedom. Tears slipped silently onto the pillow. My wolf paced in my skull, furious and wild but caged by the iron of his will.

His lips brushed my ear one more time. “Welcome to your new life, Clara Carter,” he murmured, soft and deadly. “I warned you I’d make you wish for death. Now you’ll live with that wish every day.”

His words curdled in my stomach.

“Get some sleep. Tomorrow I’ll give you a reason to scream for real.”

He didn’t let go.

I wasn’t sure he ever would.

As his breathing slowed and deepened, I realized escape—or mercy—from this man and this place would only come at a cost I wasn’t sure I could bear.

And yet, some tiny stubborn ember inside me refused to die.

I will survive this, I thought fiercely, even if surviving means hating him for the rest of my cursed life.

But even as that tiny hope sparked, I knew the darkness of Taehyung’s cruelty was only just beginning.