Birthright

Chapter 15 - whipping -Ephy POV

The first light of dawn pulls me back to reality. Tomorrow, I turn eighteen and I have twenty hours to find a loophole in the marriage contract.

I leave the two men at the farmhouse and start the long walk back toward Slavers Bay. They’ll be heading for the Enchanted Forest soon, chasing the whispers of rebellion.

A chill settles over me as I watch them disappear into the distance. Sadness tightens in my chest cold, sharp, and inevitable. Leaving Jackson feels wrong, but I need to save my mum, she comes first.

I turn onto my street and stop cold. Guards stand clustered outside my house, their armor glinting in the morning light.

Then I see him in the doorway. Dalston.

My heart sinks. We were supposed to run tonight.

Mum and I had everything planned, Margie and Maggie, the twin witch sisters, were coming after dark to try a spell that could unbind the blood tie to the contract.

But seeing him there, calm and waiting, I know we’re already too late.

Dread floods through me.

Where’s Mum? Has he done something to her?

Dalston steps out of the doorway and onto the street. Then I see them two guards dragging my mother from the house, silver chains biting into her wrists.

I gasp. Silver. It’s burning her skin, she’s a wolf.

I take a step forward, ready to run to her, to give myself up to that wicked creature just to make it stop. But Mum senses me. Her head jerks up, eyes locking with mine. She shakes her head twice, sharp, desperate.

I freeze. My throat closes. And then I see her mouth a single word.

Run.

I back away slowly, then turn and run,my breath ragged, my heart hammering. I don’t stop until I reach Raven’s house.

I pound on her door, frantic. “Come on, come on”

After a moment, the door swings open. Raven stands there in her pajamas, hair a mess, blinking sleep from her eyes.

“Alright, speedy,” she says. “Where’s the fire—”

I push past her into the house. “He’s taken her,” I gasp. “He’s taken my mum.”

Raven freezes. My head drops into my hands, tears spilling freely.

“What?” she breathes. “He as in Dalston? But—it’s not your wedding until tomorrow!”

“Unless he found the packed bags,” I whisper. “The guards didn’t get me last night. Maybe..maybe he thinks I ran?”

“Okay, what’s the plan here?” Raven asks, crossing the room to pull me into a tight hug. She strokes my hair, grounding me. “Eph, you’re not alone. We’ll go to the fae twins, maybe they can help.”

“I don’t know, Raven,” I say, my voice breaking. “Mum saw me. She told me to run.”

“Then you need to go,” she says firmly. “I’ll go with you.”

“I can’t leave her, though,” I whisper. “It’s my mum.”

A sudden knock, knock, knock crashes through the house. We both jump, hearts pounding.

“Have they found me?” I breathe.

Raven slips to the window and carefully peeks through the curtain. She exhales in relief. “It’s Jake. Only Jake.”

She goes to open the door.

Jake bursts through the door, breathless and flushed, like he’s just run a marathon.

“Thank the Goddess you’re both here,” he pants. Then his gaze finds me, full of sympathy and dread. He already knows.

“I don’t know how to say this,” he starts.

“If it’s about her mum being taken, we know,” Raven cuts in quickly.

But Jake only shakes his head, eyes dropping to the floor.

A cold knot twists in my stomach. “What is it?” I ask, my voice barely holding steady.

He looks up at me, eyes glassy with tears.

“Eph..they’ve taken your mum to the Great Hall. For whipping. They’re doing it right now.”

My breath catches, the world narrowing to a pulse of horror.

Jake’s voice cracks as he falls to his knees. “I tried to stop them, I swear I did. But the guards shoved me back.” He wipes at his face, shaking. “Everyone saw her, Ephy. The whole square was in uproar. It..it triggered something in them.”

“The people are ready to fight,” Jake says, his voice trembling but fierce. “For the past, for the future, for freedom.”

For a heartbeat, none of us move, the words hanging heavy in the air, sparking something deep inside me.

Then Raven snaps into motion. She starts grabbing things from the counter — jars, herbs, whatever she can reach and shoving them into a worn leather bag.

“Right,” she says, breathless but steady. “Let’s go see the witch sisters. We need magic.”

………………………………………………

The square outside the Great Hall had been crowded from the moment the guards dragged the woman out in silver chains. Most people came because they were forced; others gathered out of fear, or curiosity, or the grim instinct to witness what might happen to them next.

But no one expected Marie.

A woman who had once healed their wounds, fed their children, helped the lost and desperate without asking for coin.

A woman who everyone knew did not deserve what Dalston was doing to her.

The guards tied her to the whipping post, the silver burning her wrists, smoke curling from her skin. A hush fell over the crowd — not reverence, not obedience, but a thick, brittle silence.

Then Dalston stepped out.

Smiling.

The first lash cracked through the air.

A child cried.

A woman fainted.

Men clenched their fists but did not move..yet.

By the sixth lash, Marie’s legs gave way.

By the seventh, she still hadn’t screamed. That angered Dalston more.

Someone in the crowd shouted, “Monster!”

Another voice yelled, “Coward!”

The guards raised their blades.

Dalston didn’t stop them.

But then something happened he did not anticipate.

People pushed forward.

Men. Women. Elderly. Teenagers.

The entire town shifting like a wave.

They didn’t touch the guards..not yet.

But their voices rose.

“Enough!”

“She’s done nothing wrong!”

“You can’t keep doing this!”

More guards marched forward, but the crowd didn’t move aside.

Not this time.

Dalston lifted his hand, ready to unleash punishment on the bystanders but the air shifted.

A pulse shook the square.

A low, humming vibration, like the beginning of a storm.

The people whispered among themselves.

It happened the moment Marie’s heart stopped.

A ripple.

A surge.

As if something powerful woke up far away.

“Something’s coming.”

“We can’t live under his rule anymore.”

“This is the final straw.”

“The rightful heir, the prophecy maybe the stories are true.”

By sundown, the people were no longer just grieving.

They were angry.

United.

Ready.

The spark had finally lit the powder.

The moment the crowd surged forward toward Marie, Dalston’s eyes went cold.

Razor-sharp.

Deadly.

He stepped back out onto the balcony of the Great Hall, voice amplified with magic so it cracked like thunder across the square.

“ARREST THEM.”

The guards surged into the crowd like a swarm, swinging batons, shields, blades.

Screams burst through the air as people scattered, tripping over cobblestones, knocking over market stalls, clutching each other with bloody hands.

Dalston raised both arms, and the square fell silent under the weight of his chilling words:

“This is what happens when you disrespect me…

and mine.”

His gaze slid to Marie’s limp body, her hair matted with blood, her skin blistered from silver.

“Let this be a lesson,” he said, louder still. “Any who oppose me will be killed, or worse..taken to Meldron and fed to the demons.”

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

People froze in terror.

Even the guards tensed at the name.

Meldron the realm of punishment.

Where demons feasted on the souls sent to them.

Where no one returned whole, if at all.

Dalston turned to the hooded witch standing beside him, her eyes glowing faintly green beneath her veil.

“Send her,” he ordered.

The witch hesitated only a second, a flicker of uncertainty before raising her hands. Dark magic spiraled up around Marie’s body, wrapping her in smoke that smelled of rot and lightning.

The crowd fell to their knees in horror as the witch spoke the ancient command.

“By decree of the High Lord, cast her beyond the veil..to Meldron.”

A tear in reality split open behind Marie a glowing, jagged portal humming with demonic hunger. A guttural growl echoed from deep within.

The body was lifted by invisible force, dragged toward the rift.

Women sobbed.

Children screamed.

Men tried to break through the guards but were beaten back.

Dalston watched with a cold smile.

“Let this be your warning,” he said.

Marie’s body vanished into the portal.

The crack in the air snapped shut, leaving only silence and the lingering smell of sulfur.

Dalston turned sharply and strode back into the Great Hall, his cloak billowing behind him.

The people were left broken, furious, terrified.