Chapter 4

Zirelle’s POV

A few days passed, and everything was eerily quiet. No one spoke of my execution, and even the Alpha said nothing.

What was going on?

Were they planning to get rid of me in silence? Why was no one addressing me as the threat I supposedly was?

They even allowed me to return to my small house and live freely, as though I had never been a danger to them.

But the quiet didn’t last long.

One afternoon, soldiers suddenly surrounded my house. They were fully armed, their faces cold and unreadable.

I barely had time to react before they burst through the door, dragging me out like I was nothing more than a sack of grain.

They hauled me to the pack's square, forcing me to kneel before the Alpha. His stern gaze bore into me, but it wasn’t just him this time.

Seated beside him was a man whose aura radiated pure menace.

The stranger was tall, broad-shouldered, with piercing eyes that seemed to see through your soul. He wore a long black coat, the edges of which brushed the ground like shadows following his every move.

He wasn’t just anyone—he was the Lycan King, a ruler feared across multiple packs.

“I heard about the girl who shattered nine iron doors with nothing but her power,” the Lycan King said, his voice low and commanding. “I came to see this girl for myself.”

My stomach churned. So this was why they hadn’t executed me yet. They wanted to sell me to him.

But what they didn’t know was that I was no longer the powerful girl they believed me to be.

I was useless now.

“Show me your power,” the Lycan King ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I have none,” I replied, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me. “I’ve lost it all.”

The Alpha’s face twisted in fury. “Liar!” he spat, signaling the guards to discipline me.

The guards approached, their hands clutching heated irons.

I didn’t flinch, but inside, I was terrified.

The first searing rod pressed against my arm, and the pain was unbearable.

They didn’t stop.

Burn after burn, they marked my skin, leaving angry red scars that would never fade.

I bit my lip to keep from screaming, my tears betraying the pain I was trying so hard to hide.

They tortured me for what felt like hours, hoping I’d unleash the power they were certain still lingered within me.

But nothing came.

By the end, they believed me.

I really had lost it all.

The Lycan King rose from his seat, his expression a mix of disappointment and disgust. “What a waste,” he muttered before storming off.

Bruised, burned, and broken, I was left kneeling in the dirt, unable to move.

I could feel their eyes on me—mocking, judging, pitying.

I spent the next few weeks in pain, physically and emotionally drained.

I didn’t understand why the Moon Goddess kept me alive. Was this my fate? To endure endless suffering for reasons I couldn’t comprehend?

One night, as I lay in my small, dark room, a figure slipped inside.

It was Garrick.

He didn’t waste time on pleasantries. Instead, he tied my hands and pulled me from the bed.

I tried to scream, but I was too weak. I hadn’t eaten in days, and my voice barely carried past my lips.

“Shut up, you little rat!” Garrick hissed. “Can’t you see I’m trying to save your pathetic life? The Alpha’s preparing to execute you at dawn, and here you are, sleeping like a fool.”

I wanted to believe him, but something felt off.

Still, I had no strength to resist.

Garrick dragged me deep into the forest, his grip like iron around my wrist.

Ahead, I saw a dark carriage waiting.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“Shut up, you piece of shit,” he snapped. “You’re nothing but a pawn in this game, a tool to be traded.”

His words cut deep, but I stayed silent.

As we approached the carriage, he tossed me inside like a sack of potatoes.

Before shutting the door, he flung a stale loaf of bread at me.

“Eat, so you don’t die before you reach the next pack,” he muttered.

I stared at him, tears welling in my eyes. “Was it worth it?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Was I worth trading for a tuber of yam?”

Garrick scoffed, his face a mixture of disgust and indifference. “I traded you for supplies and an alliance,” he said. “You’ll serve as a maid in your new pack. At least you won’t starve there.”

And with that, he signaled the driver to leave.

As the carriage rolled away, I cried silently, staring back at the home I’d never see again.

“Where are we going?” I asked the driver after hours of silence.

“To Wolvehowl Pack,” he replied softly.

My heart sank.

I’d heard stories about Wolvehowl and its Alpha—a cruel, merciless man who ruled with an iron fist.

I was being delivered straight to a monster.

When we finally arrived, the driver tapped my shoulder gently. “Miss, we’re here,” he said.

I stepped out of the carriage, wincing as my bleeding feet touched the ground.

Noticing my struggle, the old man removed his worn canvas shoes and offered them to me.

“No, sir. I can’t,” I said, embarrassed.

“Take them,” he urged, his kind eyes softening.

Reluctantly, I slipped on the oversized shoes. “Thank you,” I whispered.

He nodded and rode away, leaving me standing before the gates of Wolvehowl Pack—a place that looked more like a beautiful entrance to hell.

The air was heavy, foreboding.

I knew there was no turning back.

If I didn’t go inside, I’d be hunted down or worse.

I straightened my back, took a deep breath, and stepped forward, praying to the Moon Goddess for strength.

Whatever awaited me inside, I would face it.

Because at this point, I had nothing left to lose.