Elena’s POV:
I was dragged like a rag doll, my body scraping against the rough ground as my blood mixed with the dirt beneath me. The sting of my wounds burned with each movement, but the pack soldiers didn’t care. Their grip on my arms
The coldness in their eyes was nothing new—I had seen it before, felt it before. But what hurt most was seeing that same emptiness in *my parents’* faces. Not a flicker of concern. Not a shadow of pity.
*Was I truly worth so much hatred?*
The crowd whispered, their words laced with disgust.
“She deserves this.”
“What a disgrace.”
“Marking a stranger—how shameful.”
But beneath their venomous whispers, I heard her.
“Let her go! This is wickedness”
Rachael cried out as she trailed behind, fighting against the soldiers that held her back.
