Chapter 3

Penelope’s POV

My father didn’t even look at me. His gaze was distant, cold. He didn’t care.

Redhead’s grip tightened, and she dragged me out of the room like I was nothing but a rag doll. My knees buckled, but she pulled me forward, not caring that I couldn’t keep up.

“Stop!” I cried, my heart pounding. “Please! Daddy!” I begged. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Please, just listen!”

But no one was listening.

“Shut up.” Redhead snapped, her voice sharp, cutting through my pleas like a knife. “You’ve caused enough trouble. You’ll learn what happens when you disgrace this family.”

Tears poured down my face as I screamed for my father, but he just stood there, doing nothing.

I couldn’t believe this was happening. This couldn’t be real.

She threw me to the ground like I was nothing, her hands pulling me back up only to force me forward again.

My cries echoed down the hall as she dragged me away, my heart breaking with every step.

And with every step I took, I felt my dignity slip away.

I was nothing.

The next weeks were a blur of pain and torment. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had felt anything other than the sting of the whip, the hunger gnawing at my insides, and the darkness of the small, cold room I was locked in.

They didn’t care. They never cared.

I was punished, whipped, starved, and locked away like I was nothing. The blows from the whip cut into my skin, and the bruises from where Redhead had grabbed me still ached. Every night, I lay there, exhausted, my body trembling from hunger, and yet, I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Julian’s face—the betrayal in his eyes and Callista’s smirk.

How could they do this to me?

Why?

I couldn’t fathom it.

How could my own father, the man who was supposed to protect me, Let this happen? How could he treat me like this? Like I was nothing more than a disgrace to him?

Every time I tried to make sense of it, I couldn’t.

Three weeks. That’s how long I was locked away. No one came to check on me, no one cared to ask how I was. I could hear the muffled voices of my stepmother and father outside the door, their laughter, their cold indifference to my suffering.

I was alone.

But then, something inside me snapped. I finally realized the truth. I had been blind. All this time, I had thought Callista was my best friend. The one person who had stuck by me, who I trusted with everything.

But now I know.

Callista had never been my friend. She hadn’t been there for me because she cared. She had befriended me out of pure envy.

She wanted what was mine. She wanted Julian, and she had been plotting this from the very beginning.

She was never my friend.

She watched me suffer. She let me suffer.

I closed my eyes, a bitter tear slipping down my cheek. The pain of betrayal burned deeper than the physical wounds.

I had been too blind to see it. Too trusting.

Callista wanted to take the only person that makes me happy. And now, she has.

And there, in the silence of my cold room, vowed that one day, I would get my revenge. I would make them all pay for what they had done to me. For what she had taken from me.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. The silence was almost comforting now. Time had passed, and the storm that had torn apart my life had finally started to calm down. The whispers had died down, the video forgotten, and the hurt, while still fresh in my heart, began to dull into a faint ache I could ignore most of the time.

It had been a year.

A full year since that night. Since everything changed. Since I had been dragged through hell and back, only to be left with the ashes of what once was.

People had moved on. Forgotten.

The video was no longer a topic of conversation. Julian and Callista were now just distant memories, their betrayal fading into the past like a bad dream. 

I had started breathing again. Slowly. Quietly.

Until the day the soldiers came.

Thick boots thundered across the ground. The scent of iron and command filled the air.

Chaos broke loose outside my window. Warriors shouted. Omegas cried. The pack house swarmed with guards in black armor.

I backed away, heart pounding. What was going on?

Then a sharp knock came at my door.

“Penelope,” my stepmother barked, your father needs you. Now.”

My throat tightened. I rushed down the hallway and into his office. His face was pale, worn, like someone already mourning the dead.

“Close the door,” he said.

I obeyed. Hands shaking.

He stared at the floor. “It’s over.”

“What?”

“Our pack. Our rule. Everything. It’s all gone.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, barely getting the words out.

“We’re in debt, Penelope. Not money—something far worse. A blood debt. Years ago, I made a deal with rogues. Forbidden trade. I thought I could bury it. I was wrong.”

My knees weakened. “No… no, that can’t be…”

“They’ve come to collect. Alpha Daemon stepped in. Took control. I’ve been declared unfit to rule.”

My lips parted, but no sound came.

“But he made an offer,” my father went on. “One that saves your life.”

I blinked. “What offer?”

“He’ll protect you. Take you in. Shelter you until the pack is stable. When the time is right, he said… you could rise again. As Luna. You’ll rule beside a worthy mate. Someone the Moon Goddess chooses. Or him. Or whoever the people believe in.”

I took a step back, tears burning. “You’re giving me away again?”

He looked away.

“You’re all I have!” I cried. “Even if you were never really a father… you’re still my father.

“You’re choosing to leave me with them?”

“I don’t have a choice,” he whispered. “If I stay, the rogues will never stop coming. People will keep dying. Alpha Daemon said the only way to end the blood feud is for me to disappear. Me and your stepmother.”

“Disappear where?”

“Far away. Somewhere no one will find us. No letters. No calls. No goodbyes.”

A sob escaped me. “You’re abandoning me…”

He looked like he wanted to speak—like he had something to say. But he didn’t.

And that silence hurt more than anything he could’ve said.

I was being sent to the last place I ever wanted to go.

The Ironclad pack.

The home of the girl who destroyed me.

The girl who watched me burn and did nothing.

Callista.

Now, I’d be under the same roof as her.

No escape. No backup. No love.

Only enemies. And survival.

********

I stood at the entrance of the mansion, surrounded by boxes and bags—my entire life crammed into containers like I was being shipped off to some prison.

The gates closed behind me with a final thud.

Yeah. My life just keeps getting worse.

I already missed my dad—his cold voice, the rare soft glances, even the disappointment. He was all I had. And now, he was gone. Maybe for good.

A low hum pulled my attention down the driveway.

A sleek black Porsche pulled up, kicking dust behind its tires. The car hadn’t even stopped before the doors flung open.

And there they were.

Callista.

And Julian.

Of course.

I didn’t flinch. I didn’t move. I just stood there, hands cold and stomach hollow.

Callista’s eyes widened, her face twisting in confusion before turning red with rage.

“What the hell are you doing in my house?” she hissed, marching straight toward me.

My brows lifted just slightly. “Your house?”

Her face twisted more. “Don’t act dumb, Penelope. Why are you standing here like you belong?”

I said nothing. I didn’t owe her an explanation.

She looked back at Julian, probably expecting backup, but he stood frozen. Couldn’t even look me in the eye.

Coward.

“Oh, so you think you can just show up here like nothing happened?” she snapped.

Still, I didn’t answer.

And that must’ve been what pushed her over the edge.

Because the next thing I felt was a sharp slap to my cheek.

Crack.

My head turned slightly from the impact, but I didn’t fall. I didn’t even blink.

She hissed, “Am I not talking to you?!”

I didn’t hesitate.

Smack.

My hand connected with her face before she could blink. “Now you are,” I muttered.