Chapter 3

Sybil’s POV

My heart stopped right in my chest as he rose to his feet. His eyes were downright cold, hard, and chilling in such a way you’d think he was dead. He walked forward to me and I stopped breathing.

“Turn.”

Once again I did as I was told with more fear and apprehension as I heard the collective gasp from the girls at seeing my scar, how grotesque it looked to their eyes.

But the claw scars weren't what made it difficult to breathe. It was waiting for his judgment. He was silent, so silent like there was one in the hall. My pulse raced as my breathing became frantic.

“That’s all, take her and leave. The men will appreciate a new one.”

Whummph!

No! Not them—

“No! Please,” I dropped to my knees, “I can really work, anything you want, I’m really good.”

That was partly true, I guessed that if cleaning the pack’s mansion was considered work, I’d top it. And scraping the dungeon was no one more extra coin for me.

He stopped and turned to me.

“How good?”

“I—I-I’m very good. I can clean, I can—”

“Not that.”

I swallowed.

“How good can you use your mouth?”

When I didn’t answer because I couldn’t possibly understand what he meant he gave a flip of his finger at his second in command and he grabbed my hand a little too tightly.

“Fu—”

“Don’t think about it,” Eris silenced me, dragging me out like I was some dead meat in the glades.

Outside the walls and free from the shrinking sharp coldness of death itself, I wrenched my arm free. Fear and anger becoming one in me.

“I can walk by myself.”

Eris didn’t mind that I was being mouthy, he only walked forward like a brainless werewolf, everything about him was like his alpha. He was bored with a disinterested mannerism while his alpha was the walking death in the pack.

I had to survive, more than survive I had to make it out of here alive and return to my sister. Eris shoved me back into the room he’d put me in. It was just me and the girl who was under the cover, what was her name again? Eve, that was her name.

I wanted to ask about the other but I was more in my head, wondering what will become of me now to care about another.

My wolf was silent. Probably in the same pit I was in.

My bed was by the end of the wall, at the opposite end of the window.

My feet itched, my mind ran and everything was rushing through me like a broken dam. I had merely a second to collect my thoughts with fear of the unknown when the door opened and Aria walked in, breathing labored, her legs apart and she was barely dressed.

“What in the bleeding moon happened?” I demanded jerking off the bed.

“It’s nothing new.” She offered a smile despite her pain and this singular action reminded me of Marilyn.

No, she’s okay, I wouldn’t allow myself to trail the dark path.

“It could have been worse.” She looked down and then smiled. “You survived your first hour.”

“What?” This was all new territory and her smile on her weak form was like watching a dying lover say goodbye.

“It means the Alpha has use for you, usually if he didn’t approve you’ll be dead in seconds. Or if you have an ulterior motive your head leaves your neck in a blink of seconds and then you are displayed by the gate.”

The dead body by the gate, coupled with my plan, was like taking acid.

“Most girls don’t last the first hours, but you did, compared to the fire you’d come in here with.” She helped herself to her bed now.

“Now the next stage was surviving the soldiers. They are ruthless, some like to experiment with us, and others like the long game.” Aria gave me a pointed look, “especially if you are fiesty, they enjoy the game, they challenge like vultures.”

I tried not to allow the fear from her words to show in my form, but in truth, I was already trembling.

“Little mistakes here can affect your life, another set they like breaking is the ones that cry.” The fear in my eyes must have been visible.

“I’m not gonna cry over skunks.”

“Good, keep it that way, they love weak ones begging and crying for them to stop because they would not.” Aria stripped out of her shredded dress and I tried to shut my eyes at the nudity. But I had to stare, she had a beautiful body, one deserving of a proper lady in court. “Here’s a little token because I care about you, I don’t know why, but you’ve got to enjoy it, if you don’t, you’ll be scarred.”

“Did you enjoy it?” I had a knack for talking before I gave thought to my words. But Aria didn’t care, she waved off the apologetic look on my face.

“It’s the same as asking if the girl over the window enjoyed it? Or if she hated it? You must do what you can to survive. You asked if I enjoyed it? I survived and will do the same tomorrow and the day that follows.”

It was a chain of life I never wanted to lead, tomorrow, the day after, and the ones to come after it. Serving men?

“You should shower, you’ll be sent for a short while.”

I began walking into the bathroom because I didn’t want to meet those scavengers this way, and didn't want any more insults on my body. After showering I changed into the clothes she offered. More of a uniform than a dress.

It was night when we made it down. My eyes drifted to the far west where I was sure home lies beyond the hills, we weren’t off too high but she read my face and said. “You have a better chance of surviving with the men than making a run for it.”

“Oi! New girl!” A cold dry voice called from one of the tables.

“You are up.”

I was shuffling toward the woman when Aria yelled, “Don’t complain.” Her expression was serious. “It will help.”

The old woman ran her eyes down my form and scoffed. “She’ll learn. Off you go.” She shoved a caskbottle in my hands.

Briskly, with jelly knees, I walked to the tent I was made to serve. With my uniform, the cold easily synced into my skin and my teeth clattered together.

“Hey new girl, over here.” Some soldiers called me over to the side of the tent, drinks filled their tables and they gawked at me like I was the next meal on the table.

When I searched for the rogue alpha and didn't see him, I almost released a sigh in relief. I walked into the tent. There were three men inside. On a closer inspection, I realized they weren’t regular soldiers but captains or maybe generals. One had a uniform that indicated that he was of a higher rank than his friends.

He seemed to have led a more dangerous war life, as a scar ran up his face, long and deep, the scar had claimed his left eye. Others would wear a patch to make their scar less grotesque, but he wore it proudly, as a trophy or whatever.

I swallowed and approached them by the table, giving a curt bow as I greeted them, purposefully avoiding eye contact with the big guy.

“What do we have here?” The one-eyed man mused and my stomach dipped, his one eye sparkled with excitement. He rose to his feet while his friends chuckled. “Here, let me help you out of this.”

Nothing prepared me for his next action because his hand found the sorryness of a uniform I had on and then ripped it down to my breast. Terror, white and blinding flashed through me and I sucked in a breath.

“The new girl is nasty.” He commented and I knew he was staring at the gash behind my back, it was ugly, but he had no right!

“How do you suggest we fuck this one with such an ugly scar, it could scare me.”

The general shoved me to the table and I stumbled upon it, my breath caught. For someone with a mark as ugly as his, he sure was mouthy.

“You fuck her however you like, with that ugly scar, the pussy is going to be sweet.” One was added among his friends.

They were discussing me, discussing my scar like I wasn’t fucking present.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with scars, hmm?” He spun me around and flashed to his eyes, “Have one just like yours.” He chuckled darkly and tossed me on the table.

The moment my belly hit the table, fear curled in my stomach. He laughed as he opened my legs. “Be a good little whore and take me alright.” He slapped the side of my face and then began to unfasten his pants.

“Careful, you could split her open.” Another of his friends mused, and one rose to his feet to inspect me.

Don’t fight it, don’t fight it. Enjoy it. I repeated Aria’s words in my head like a mantra, hoping to calm my racing heart. If I panicked that would make it even worse, this sick bastard would take me without hesitation.

“But it would match with her scar. What an ugly sight.”

All three of them cackled. He positioned himself at my center.

I had no undies on, they weren’t generous enough to hand those out when they would be ripped apart. But when I felt him unbuckle his pants, fear gripped my throat.

And against myself, I let out a sob. “Please.”

He didn’t care, he shoved my head down against the table, their laughter bouncing off like hyenas. I wiggled and tried to wrestle free but the grip on me only tightened.

“I was right, a whore on our table.”

More laughs.

And it scraped the inside of my brain, my wolf flared and I was moving before I could stop myself, I buckled, hand shut out to the knife impaled on a piece of meat and I grabbed it.

With lighting, I thrust the knife into his meaty hand on the table and it poked out from the other side.

He let out a growl as he let me go to focus on his hand and my spine straightened like a ramrod, fear raw and palpable.

I was going to die.