My Mother Bled Me Dry for the Pack

Cold, heavy iron chains coiled around me, loop after loop, binding me to the post so tightly I could barely breathe.

Below the altar, the pack members looked up at me with reverence.

In their eyes, I was a savior, a god. More importantly, I was the scapegoat who would die so they could live.

Before the ritual began, my mother, Vivian Hale, had thrown her arms around me, glowing with excitement.

"Sweetheart, do you know what an honor this is? You're not just saving the entire pack. You're earning everyone's respect and strengthening your father's rule."

But to me, this whole sacrifice business was complete nonsense.

I had watched the pack decline with my own eyes. If sacrificing one person could bring a dying pack back to life, no one would need an Alpha to lead it at all.

But I kept my thoughts to myself. My mother and everyone in the pack believed every word the witch said.

I was forced onto the altar and tied down.

Morgana sliced my wrist open with a small knife. I winced and instinctively pulled back.

Disgust flickered in her eyes. "Don't move. The sacrifice requires blood from this exact spot. If it's off by even a hair, the ritual won't work."

She dragged the knife across my wrist again and again, carving cut after crisscrossing cut, and only stopped when there was no unbroken skin left to slice.

My blood dripped onto the totem on the ground, and the ritual officially began.

I had thought the ritual would take an hour or two at most.

But my blood flowed from morning until dusk, and she showed no sign of stopping it.

My face was pale, my lips drained of color. My voice shook. "When will it be over? I can't hold on much longer."

Morgana just gave me a cold look. "Not even close. You want to quit after giving this little? Your mother is such an exceptional woman. How did she end up with a selfish daughter who has no sense of duty?"

All I could do was grit my teeth and endure. The ritual dragged on until midnight. My heart felt like it was exploding, everything went black, and I lost consciousness in an instant.

The chains held me upright, so I never hit the ground.

To everyone watching, I looked as if I were still alive.

But Morgana's sharp eyes caught that something was off. "You think playing dead will get you out of the sacrifice? Saving an entire pack was never going to be that easy."

She didn't even look up as she carried on with the ritual.

Below, the pack members watched me and murmured among themselves.

"Bleeding from morning till midnight? Nobody could survive that. You think she's bled to death?"

"No way. The witch already said she's faking it to get out of the ritual. Besides, she's the Alpha and Luna's daughter. The Luna dotes on her. If something were really wrong, would she still be standing there so calm?"

"Instead of worrying about her, worry about us. If the ritual fails and the pack falls, we're all done for."

Several of them nodded, and the looks they threw me turned scornful.

They thought I was putting myself first, not caring whether the whole pack lived or died.

But none of them knew that my soul was floating right above their heads, staring at my mother in panic.

My mother cared about appearances more than anything. If she heard people talking about me like this behind her back, she would fly into a rage.

Sure enough, disgust crept into Vivian's eyes when she looked at me.

"Crystal Hale, get up. Stop playing dead. This is all for the pack."

When I didn't move, Morgana sighed and shook her head.

"I've always respected the wishes of the offering. If Crystal isn't willing to sacrifice, there's no point wasting our time.

"Such a pity, though. Your entire pack will die for her selfishness."

Vivian's knees nearly buckled. She hurried to plead, "No, please don't. Keep the ritual going. I'm begging you, save my pack."

Then she kicked me hard in the leg.

"You are such a disappointment. How could I have raised such a selfish daughter!"