Rejected By The Beta, Claimed By The Alpha King

The kitchen steam clung to my skin, reopening the wounds on my back with every movement. I scrubbed at a pot that refused to come clean, each circular motion sending fresh ripples of pain across my shoulders where Julian's whip had carved its message. Fifteen lashes. A birthday gift, he'd called it. The memory burned brighter than my wounds, but I kept scrubbing, kept breathing, kept existing.What else was there to do?Lily worked beside me, her movements efficient but gentle whenever she passed near my injured back. She hadn't mentioned the punishment directly. There was no need. She'd been the one to help me clean the cuts afterward, her face a mask of controlled rage as she dabbed antiseptic on skin torn to ribbons."You should rest," she whispered, low enough that only I could hear. Even in the relative privacy of the kitchen, walls had ears in Silver Lake."And give Victoria the satisfaction?" I forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. "I'd rather bleed on her dinner plates

I ran until my lungs burned and my paws bled, and still I pushed harder. The forest blurred around me as I tore through underbrush, leapt over fallen logs, splashed through shallow streams. Freedom tasted like pine and earth and night air. My muscles, new muscles I'd never known I possessed, bunched and stretched with each powerful stride. Pain lanced through me with every heartbeat, but I couldn't tell how much came from my shredded back, how much from Alexander's rejection, and how much from the violent shift that had turned my bones to liquid and reformed them into this magnificent beast I'd become.The river appeared and disappeared on my right, a silver thread beneath the waxing moon. I followed it instinctively, understanding without knowing how that it would lead me north, away from Silver Lake territory and the pack that had cast me out. The water's constant whisper kept me company as I fled, my paws finding purchase on soil that seemed to welcome me, as if the earth itself co

I clawed my way back to consciousness through layers of darkness, each one heavier than the last. My mouth tasted of metal and ash, my tongue a foreign object too large for my jaw. Something cold and hard pressed against my cheek—concrete, my mind supplied distantly. I tried to move and regretted it immediately as pain lanced through my body, wolfsbane still burning in my veins like liquid silver. The thin blanket scratched against my naked skin as I forced my eyes open, the world swimming into a blurry focus of gray walls and iron bars.Prison. Cell. Captive.The words formed slowly in my mind, disconnected from meaning until reality crashed back like a wave. I had been running. I had been free. Then the rogues with their wolfsbane darts, their rancid breath, their hands on my skin…I pushed myself upright, ignoring the protest of muscles not yet recovered from forced shifting. The blanket—more a rag than proper covering—slipped to my waist. I clutched it back over my chest, a useles

Cold shocked me awake, water cascading over my head and down my body in an icy deluge. I gasped, choking as some found its way into my lungs, my body convulsing with the sudden, violent awakening. Through streaming eyes, I made out the blurry figures of guards outside the cell, one still holding the empty bucket, their laughter echoing off concrete walls. Days had passed since my first awakening in this cell—how many, I couldn't be sure—but each one brought new torments, new reminders that I had exchanged one prison for another far worse."Rise and shine, rogues," called the guard with the bucket, his voice mocking. "Breakfast time for the Alpha King's next executees."I pushed myself to a sitting position, shivering as water dripped from my hair onto the thin shirt and pants they'd finally provided after my second day of nakedness. The concrete beneath me had formed a shallow puddle, ensuring I would remain damp and cold for hours. My muscles ached from sleeping on the hard floor, an

I sat motionless upon the ancient throne, carved from the heartwood of the first tree that grew in these lands, if the legends were to be believed. My back never touched its support—a king does not rest during judgment. Below me, the throne room hummed with the barely restrained excitement of the assembled crowd: nobles, warriors, and visiting dignitaries who had arrived early for this evening's ball, drawn by the promise of blood and justice dispensed by their Alpha King's hand. Their hunger for spectacle disgusted me, but I kept my expression impassive. A king reveals nothing.'They come to watch death,' Ares growled in my mind, his disdain matching my own. 'Like vultures circling carrion.''They come to see strength,' I corrected silently. 'To be reminded why they fear us.'The massive ironwood doors swung open, and a hush fell over the crowd. Dominic entered first, his scarred face betraying nothing as he led the first group of prisoners into the center of the room. Five rogues—fi