Clawed by Betrayal

CHAPTER THREE: NOT ALONE

River's POV

I remember the first blow. Not because it hurt the most—but because it shattered the last fragile hope I had left.

I’d been running. Not from danger, not this time—just from the pain. The rejection. The way Alpha Damien had turned his back on me. I didn’t even notice the scent of rogues until it was too late.

And then the world turned into something else for me.

Something heavy slammed into my back, knocking the air from my lungs. I hit the ground with so much force, my chin scraping against a rock. For a moment there I heard a c***k and I was sure as hell it was from my facial bones. Before I could even turn, boots were vigorously hitting my ribs, and fists rained down on me. One to the side of my head. Another to my stomach. A sharp kick to my back. My vision blurred. I curled into myself out of reflex, but it didn’t help.

Laughter echoed around me—deep, mocking voices.

“What a feisty little thing,” one snarled, grabbing a good amount of my hair and pulling me up so I was kneeling.

I spat in his face.

A mistake.

He backhanded me so hard my ears rang. I tasted blood. My lip split open and swelled immediately.

“She’s got spirit,” another one said, circling me like a wolf playing with its food. “I’m definitely gonna love breaking that.”

They bound my wrists behind me with thick iron chains—real ones, laced with spiky nails that seared against my skin. My vision dimmed as pain and heat radiated up my arms. Still, I refused to scream.

He punched me again, this time with increased force and maybe anger. I collapsed forward, choking on my stomach content now rising in my throat. They didn’t let me rest.

One dragged me to my feet and slammed my back into a tree. Another tied the chain around the trunk, locking my arms above my head. Then they took turns. Pounding. Hitting. Laughing.

My world became a rhythm of violence.

Fist. Kick. Insult.

Fist. Kick. Silence.

By the time they stopped, I could barely stand. Blood leaked from my nose. My vision was swimming. My body hung limp from the chains, head drooped forward, breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps.

One of them lifted my chin, smirking. “Still alive. Maybe you’ll last longer than the others.”

I tried to speak. To ask why.

But nothing came out.

Another blow. A final one. My head snapped to the side. Stars exploded behind my eyes.

And then—

Darkness.

When I finally woke up, I was in darkness so thick it felt alive.

I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the environment, but it wasn't much help. No light. No shape. Just the hard, wet floor beneath me and the iron bite of the shackles still burning into my wrists.

I wasn't sure how long I’d been unconscious. My body screamed with every movement I made, and my throat felt dry.

Then it hit me.

I was alone.

Truly alone.

“Hello?” My voice cracked. The word came out small, fragile. I coughed and tried again, louder. “Is anyone there? Please!”

My own voice bounced back at me. Hollow. Mocking.

I pushed myself up with trembling arms. My knees buckled beneath me, and I collapsed, biting back a cry.

“Someone! Please!” I screamed again, louder this time. But all I could hear was my own echo. “Help me! Please! I don’t belong here—I’m not—”

“Can you be quiet?”

The voice came like a sharp snap in my head. Low. Fierce. Female.

I froze, eyes wide even though I still couldn’t see. My breath caught mid-sob.

“I said be quiet before you get us both killed,” she growled, more firmly this time.

My heart skipped many beats. “Who said that?”

Silence. Then, softer: “The name's Kiara, nice to properly meet you although not in the best circumstance.”

I sank back onto the ground, confusion mixing with fear. “Who… who are you? Why are you in my head? Wait, are you my wolf?.”

“Yay she finally gets it. Of course I'm your wolf River… I'm sorry for coming to you late but hey if it helps in any way, I'm here now.”

“Who am I?” My voice cracked. “I don’t even know anymore. A rejected mate? A beaten slave? A cursed—”

“You are a wolf.”

Her voice was firm. Steady. A tether in the darkness.

“You are my other half. And you are more than the chains on your wrists or the scars that can't be seen.”

Tears threatened to slip down my cheeks. “Then why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you help me?”

“I did help you,” she said sharply. “I told you to run. Although you still let your pain blind you. You let them break your spirit before they even touched your body. And I understand, I do but still, look where that got us.”

Her words stung. But they weren’t wrong.

“I didn’t know what to do,” I whispered.

“You will. But first, you need to stop begging for rescue. No one’s coming, River. Not Gerald. Not Alpha Damien. Not even the Moon Goddess herself. It’s just us now.”

A pause. Then gently:

“And that’s all we’ve ever needed.”

I let out a sigh, curling back into myself. “I don’t know how to be a wolf, Kiara. I don’t know how to be you. I’ve never shifted. I’ve never... understood.”

Kiara was quiet for a moment.

Then she said, softer than ever before: “Then it’s time I show you.”

The tears finally came as warmth filled my whole body, giving me some sort of hope.

“We start here,” she said. “In the dark. Because wolves are born in the night. But we don’t stay in it forever.”

And for the first time since my mother’s death…

Since Gerald kissed Clara…

Since Alpha Damien turned his back on me…

Since the rogues chained me and beat me senseless…

I didn’t feel alone.

I had her.

And that would have to be enough—for now.

“Now it’s time I show you,” Kiara whispered, her voice like the wind—gentle, ancient, familiar.

I pressed my palm to the cold floor, mentally prepping myself while letting go of everything and everyone, a quiet strength wrapping around me. For the first time in days, I didn’t feel like I was falling apart.

That was until—

“Wow. You talk to yourself a lot.”

I froze.

The voice didn’t come from inside my head.

It came from the corner.

My entire body tensed. I subconsciously shifted backward, resting against the damp wall, my flight instincts kicking in.

“Oh good,” the voice added dryly, “She’s alive and dramatic. We’re off to a great start.”

“Who—?!” I choked out. “Who’s there?”

A low, amused chuckle. “Name’s Rudra. Been your cellmate for the past three days, sunshine. Welcome back to the land of the semi-conscious.”

Three days?

“You’ve been here?” I strained my eyes trying to put a face to the voice. “This whole time?”

He clapped once, slow and sarcastic. “Give the girl a prize. You even drool in your sleep, by the way. Little weird, but endearing.”

I was mortified.

“I… I didn’t hear anyone,” I muttered, suddenly feeling ten kinds of awkward. “I thought I was alone.”

“Oh, I know,” he said cheerfully. “You’ve been whispering to yourself for a good ten minutes now. Muttering about wolves and darkness and rebirth like you’re in some kind of haunted poetry slam.”

I groaned, burying my face in my knees.

“And hey—just curious,” he added, “were you actually talking to your wolf just now? Because unless you’re one of those rare late-bloomers, that's a hell of a wait. You sound grown. Like taxes and adulting grown.”

I blinked. “Wait… you could hear her?”

He snorted. “No, genius. I could hear you. You were speaking out loud. In weird, dramatic pauses. Very theatrical. Honestly, I was halfway convinced you were summoning a demon.”

I stared into the dark where his voice came from. “You’re unbelievably annoying.”

“And you’re welcome.” He shifted, and I heard the faint clink of his own chains. “I figured you could use some entertainment. You’ve been unconscious so long I started naming the rats.”

Kiara growled faintly in the back of my mind. “He talks too much.”

You're not wrong, I thought back.

“Anyway,” Rudra continued, “you’ve been out for three straight days. Barely moved. They dumped you in here like a sack of potatoes. Thought you were dead at first. You kinda smelled like it.”

“I was almost dead,” I snapped.

“Oh, no doubt. They roughed you up real good. But hey—you lived. That's impressive around here.”

I didn’t reply. The weight of everything hit me all over again—my mother’s death, Gerald’s rejection, the rogues, Alpha Damien’s betrayal. The chains.

I felt tears pushing at the edges again.

“Don’t cry,” Rudra said softly, surprisingly gentle now. “They don’t deserve your tears. Save them for something that matters.”

I looked toward the sound of his voice.

“Like what?” I asked quietly.

He hesitated. “Revenge, probably. Or, like, escaping in a blaze of fiery glory. You know. Small goals.”

Despite myself, I laughed—just a small, broken sound. But it was real.

“Nice to meet you, Rudra, I'm River” I whispered.

If I wasn't in utter darkness, I could swear that he tipped an imaginary hat, voice lighter. “Pleasure’s all mine, Miss Whisper-to-Herself. Welcome to hell. Hope you brought snacks.”