Chapter 9 — The Price of Humiliation
1489 Words
The Vale Pack manor had never felt so suffocating.
Lyra walked through the stone corridor with quiet steps, her back straight despite the eyes that followed her.
Whispers trailed behind her like poisonous smoke.
“That's the omega who ruined Lady Elara’s wedding.”
“I heard she tried to seduce Alpha Malrik.”
“No, no… she attacked him.”
“She’s dangerous.”
Lyra’s fingers curled slightly at her sides.
Let them whisper.
In her past life, those whispers had crushed her spirit. They had made her bow her head, accept blame, accept punishment… accept a fate that eventually killed her.
But not this time.
This time, she knew their cruelty was nothing compared to the horrors waiting in the future.
And she would not die helpless again.
A faint ache pulsed in her shoulder where she had stabbed herself the previous day to fight the effects of the drug Elara had slipped into her drink.
The wound had already begun healing.
Too fast.
Lyra touched the spot lightly.
Even now she could feel warmth spreading through her veins like a quiet fire.
Her wolf stirred deep inside her chest.
Not weak.
Not broken.
Just… sleeping.
Lyra exhaled slowly.
I will wake you.
A sudden loud voice broke the corridor’s uneasy silence.
“Well, look who is walking around like she owns the place.”
Lyra stopped.
Her spine stiffened.
She knew that voice.
Slowly, she turned.
Malrik stood at the far end of the hall.
His dark hair hung messily over his forehead, and his crimson eyes burned with barely contained fury.
The three wolves who always followed him stood behind him like shadows.
Every servant in the hallway immediately scattered.
No one wanted to witness whatever was about to happen.
Lyra felt her heartbeat quicken.
So he came.
Of course he did.
A man like Malrik would never allow humiliation to go unanswered.
He began walking toward her slowly.
Each step echoed like a drumbeat.
Lyra remained where she was.
She refused to retreat.
When he stopped in front of her, his gaze raked over her face with cold intensity.
“You have quite the courage,” he said softly.
Lyra met his stare.
“Or maybe I simply refuse to be afraid of cowards.”
A dangerous silence followed.
Behind Malrik, one of his wolves inhaled sharply.
Malrik tilted his head slightly.
Then he laughed.
The sound held no humor.
“You’re amusing, Lyra.”
He stepped closer.
Too close.
Lyra could smell him now—iron, smoke, and aggression.
His voice lowered.
“Yesterday you embarrassed me in front of half the pack.”
Lyra crossed her arms calmly.
“You embarrassed yourself.”
His eyes flashed.
“You expect me to believe you were innocent?”
Lyra tilted her head slightly.
“I expect nothing from you.”
For a moment, Malrik simply stared.
Then he leaned down slightly until his breath brushed her ear.
“You think this is over?”
Lyra did not move.
But inside her chest, her wolf growled.
Low.
Dangerous.
Malrik’s lips curled.
“I don't know how you managed to twist the story yesterday,” he murmured. “But humiliation like that… it has a price.”
Lyra’s voice remained steady.
“And what price are you planning to collect?”
Malrik straightened slowly.
His smile was sharp.
“You’ll find out soon.”
A chill ran through Lyra.
But she refused to show it.
Instead, she stepped closer.
Now they stood face to face.
“Let me give you some advice, Alpha Malrik,” she said quietly.
His eyebrow lifted slightly.
“If you want revenge,” Lyra continued, “try choosing a target who actually fears you.”
For a second, something flickered in Malrik’s eyes.
Confusion.
Curiosity.
Because the girl standing in front of him was not the broken omega he had expected.
There was something else there now.
Something calm.
Something dangerous.
His wolf shifted restlessly inside him.
Malrik frowned slightly.
Why does my wolf react like this?
He leaned closer again, lowering his voice.
“You should remember something, Lyra.”
His gaze darkened.
“I don’t lose.”
Lyra gave him a small, almost pitying smile.
“Then yesterday must have been very painful for you.”
One of Malrik’s wolves growled behind him.
But Malrik lifted a hand, silencing him.
His eyes never left Lyra.
“You’re playing a dangerous game.”
Lyra shrugged.
“I didn’t start it.”
Malrik’s smile slowly returned.
“Maybe not.”
Then his voice dropped into something colder.
“But I will finish it.”
A slow tension filled the air between them.
Neither moved.
Neither blinked.
Finally, Malrik stepped back.
“Enjoy your freedom while you can,” he said lightly.
Lyra narrowed her eyes.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Malrik’s smile widened.
“You’ll see.”
He turned and began walking away.
His wolves followed immediately.
But just before disappearing down the corridor, he stopped.
Without turning around, he spoke.
“Your father and I have something important to discuss.”
Lyra’s stomach tightened.
Malrik glanced over his shoulder.
“And I have a feeling the result will be very… interesting for you.”
Then he left.
The hallway fell silent again.
Lyra stood motionless for several seconds.
Her mind raced.
Something is wrong.
Malrik was too calm.
Too confident.
That wasn’t the behavior of a man who had just lost a political marriage.
Unless…
Unless he believed he had something better.
A terrible thought crept into Lyra’s mind.
She immediately turned and headed toward the council hall.
The heavy wooden doors were slightly open.
Voices echoed from inside.
Theron’s voice.
Seraphine’s voice.
And Malrik’s.
Lyra quietly moved closer to the door.
Inside, the atmosphere was tense.
Theron stood at the head of the long table, his face dark with frustration.
Seraphine stood beside him, looking composed as always.
Malrik leaned casually against a chair.
Theron spoke first.
“This entire situation has caused unacceptable damage to our alliance.”
Malrik shrugged lazily.
“That sounds like your problem.”
Theron’s jaw clenched.
“You came here to marry my daughter.”
Malrik’s eyes glinted.
“Yes.”
Seraphine stepped forward smoothly.
“Which is why we will arrange another ceremony soon,” she said calmly. “Once the rumors fade.”
Malrik laughed softly.
“I’m afraid that won’t be necessary.”
The room went quiet.
Theron frowned.
“What are you implying?”
Malrik pushed himself away from the chair and began pacing slowly around the table.
“Elara is… beautiful,” he said thoughtfully.
Seraphine smiled faintly.
“But beauty isn’t everything.”
Theron’s expression darkened.
“Speak clearly.”
Malrik stopped walking.
His red eyes gleamed.
“The wedding will still happen.”
Theron relaxed slightly.
Seraphine’s smile returned.
But Malrik’s next words froze the room.
“Just not with Elara.”
The silence was suffocating.
Seraphine’s smile disappeared.
Theron’s voice dropped dangerously low.
“What did you just say?”
Malrik turned toward them.
“I’ve reconsidered the situation.”
His lips curved slowly.
“And I believe another bride would be… more suitable.”
Seraphine’s eyes narrowed.
“Who?”
Malrik’s gaze flicked toward the door.
Toward where Lyra stood hidden.
His smile widened.
“Lyra.”
Inside the hallway, Lyra felt the world go cold.
Inside the room, Theron exploded.
“Absolutely not!”
Malrik lifted an eyebrow.
“Why not?”
“She is a worthless omega!”
Malrik tilted his head.
“Maybe.”
Then his voice hardened.
“But she is also the woman who humiliated me.”
Seraphine’s eyes sharpened.
“And you want revenge.”
Malrik smiled.
“Something like that.”
Theron slammed his fist on the table.
“I will not give you my daughter for that purpose.”
Malrik’s expression turned cold.
“Then our alliance ends here.”
The threat hung heavily in the room.
Seraphine and Theron exchanged a quick look.
Politics.
Power.
Territory.
They could not afford to lose Malrik as an ally.
Malrik spoke again softly.
“You see, Alpha Theron…”
His red eyes gleamed like blood.
“You don’t have many choices.”
Then he delivered the final blow.
“Either Lyra becomes my bride…”
He paused.
“And our alliance survives.”
His smile turned cruel.
“Or you protect your useless daughter…”
And his voice dropped into something deadly.
“And lose everything.”
Outside the door, Lyra’s heart pounded.
Because she knew something terrifying.
In her past life…
Her father had chosen the alliance.
And he would choose it again.
Inside the hall, Seraphine slowly turned toward Theron.
Her voice was calm.
Cold.
“Perhaps… we should consider his proposal.”
Lyra’s breath caught.
And in that moment she understood.
The nightmare she had escaped once…
Was about to begin again.
- Writer
