“You really won’t shut your mouth until you see a grave!”
My cheek throbbed.
Warm blood slid down my chin.
My hair fell loose, tangled across my shoulders.
My body was half exposed.Pain.Humiliation.
Cold air against my skin.
Lyra clicked her tongue, amused.
“That hair is annoying,” she said.“Get rid of it.”
A servant stepped forward with shears.
I didn’t even resist.
Because I no longer cared about my hair.Or my pride.
I only curled tighter around my stomach,my arms wrapping instinctively over the life inside.
The life he had smiled at.
The life he had dreamed aloud about —how he’d train him to hunt,how he’d carry him on his shoulders,how he’d tell the pack this child would be stronger than any Alpha before him.
A few seconds later,I felt the weight disappear from my head.
Strands of my hair fell scattered on the stone.
The only thing I had used to cover my torn body was gone.
Lyra burst out laughing.
“Good!” she clapped lightly.“That looks much better.”
“A shameless bitch like you deserves to be seen exactly as she is.”
The others followed her, laughing, applauding,like wolves watching a slow kill.
I stared at them, trembling,every breath sharp and burning.
“You will regret this,” I said hoarsely.
Every one of their faces.Every sneer.Every laugh.
They burned into me.
And I swore,even if it cost my life —they would pay.
Lyra stepped closer.Slowly.Deliberately.
She placed her boot against my cheek and pressed down hard.
Stone bit into my skin.My vision swam.
“In this territory,” she whispered,“no one makes me regret anything.”
“But I can make you regret ever being born.”
She lifted her foot.Then turned.
“Take her,” she snapped.“Drag her to the punishment grounds.”
At Lyra’s order, several female attendants immediately rushed forward and seized my arms.
Ignoring my struggles and cries,they dragged me across the stone path all the way to the punishment grounds.
Behind me,two long trails of blood smeared across the floor —my torn feet scraping against the cold stone step after step.
When we reached the punishment yard,they threw me to the ground like animal waste.
This place was where disgraced wolves were forced to labor.Those stripped of status and honor.
As soon as Lyra brought me there,everyone noticed.
Especially the way I looked —half-clothed, bloodied, trembling.
The work stopped.Dozens of eyes locked onto me.Predatory.Excited.Like a pack of starving wolves staring at wounded prey.