s*x WITH THE BEAST

2. THE DREADBORNS ARE HERE 2

Rotten fruits were thrown against the platform, half-eaten onions rolled past her knees, and the stink of them mingled with sweat and smoke.

Rowan stood below, his arms crossed, grinning up at her.

His voice rose above the others. “What kind of princess can’t shift? What kind of heir is cursed for an eternity?”

Kaerith kept her eyes down on the dirt. Her heart beat hard in her chest, but she bit on her lower lip. She knew better; females had no say in the pack.

Kaerith Virelyn was the daughter of Alpha Fenrik Greythorn, by blood. Yes, but it meant nothing here. She was born under the Tear of the Moon, which was seen as a flaw in the Lycan bloodline.

She carried the mark of the moon’s sorrow that cursed her to never fully be accepted into Lycan society. No wolf ever came to her. No shift—wolfless. No power. No mate. Just a weak omega slave.

After her mother birthed her, she refused to sacrifice her to the moon, claiming Kaerith was the only child she’d borne in her lifetime. She protected Kaerith all her life, even from her husband, and the pack never forgave her for it till she died.

Now, Kaerith’s mother was dead; they found their way with her, and her father, Alpha Fenrik did nothing about it.

Every day, she scrubbed floors, shovelled s**t, hauled water, and cleaned blades still wet with blood. And when it wasn’t enough, they made her bleed for their happiness.

“Twenty strokes,” Rowan declared. “For disrespecting me. And spilling the water the gods gave.”

The crowd cheered— clapping, whistling, and stomping their boots against the wooden platforms.

Rotten vegetables flew through the air: mushrooms, mushy turnips, browning lettuce, and soft apples mixed with fresh ones.

The weight of every fruit and veggie cracked against Kaerith’s back and shoulders. A tomato burst near her head, splattering juice across her cheek and eyes.

Warriors, elders, women, children, and slaves all watched with cold eyes, some laughing, some murmuring, some giggling, some pointing at her, some eating, all looking down on her as if she weren’t the Alpha’s daughter.

A thick-muscled warrior stepped forward, with a whip in his hand. He threw his arms high in the air, and the crowd cheered at him, their fists pumping as they continued stomping their boots.

Kaerith closed her eyes, her jaw clenched tight enough to crack. The crowd jeered, and a rotten apple struck her throat, its sour juice running down her cheek.

The first lash landed like fire across her back.

Her body snapped against the post, her teeth grinding so hard she tasted blood.

Kaerith swallowed the scream she felt clawing at her throat but refused it as the pain tore through her whole body, and scattered her thoughts. Blood oozed, sticky against her dress.

She curled her fingers tightly as blood mixed with dirt under her knees.

The second lash landed across her bone, and her breath hitched between her ribs, heat spilled down her spine. Her eyes welled, and tears blurred her eyes, sliding down her cheeks and dripping from her chin to the wood as a sharp sound rang in her ears, blocking out the crowd’s jeers.

If the gods won’t kill me, I’ll burn them myself.

The third strike landed on her waist, and the whip circled her stomach. The rope pulled her arms straight as the pain blurred her sight, and she fell to her side with her shoulders trembling and her jaw locked tight, with every muscle stretched out.

She felt her blood soaking through the thin material of her dress as the jeering crowd and heavy laughter dulled.

Warriors turned toward the outer ridge, dropping their spears with a clatter, as screams rang out in the distance, just as the fourth lash was about to land on her back.

A dog howled as a spear slipped from a warrior’s grip.

People ran off, shoving past the stunned onlookers and the ones who had cheered seconds ago now scattered like startled birds.

“Move! Move!”

“They are back again—!”

Even through the blood and heat, Kaerith lifted her head, her vision blurred by tears and sweat. Her heart began racing as she felt the wrongness in the atmosphere.

Just then, tents flapped open as people tore through them. Crates of eggs were overturned, and food spilt across the ground.

Most mothers yanked their daughters by the arms; guards shouted orders, but no one followed as boots pounded in all directions.

An old man whispered as he fled past, “The Beast is hungry again.”

“The Dreadborns are here!”

Kaerith’s stomach clenched.