Abandoned Revenge

Chapter 6. Alina

I knelt in the circle, my body trembling from the cold of the stone and the horror that gripped my chest like a vise, making it hard to breathe normally. The white dress—thin, simple—clung to my skin from the sweat of fear, my wet hair in its braid stuck to my neck and back, cold seeping under the fabric, sending goosebumps running over my arms and legs, over my entire body. My knees ached from the pressure on the stone, my hands clenched into fists on my thighs, fingers white from tension, nails digging into my palms until blood welled. The pack around me—faces in shadows from the red light of the Blood Moon pouring through the high arched windows of the hall, gazes indifferent, heavy, like a verdict already passed and awaiting execution. Alphas in black cloaks with pack emblems, brides in white—all waiting in silence, the energy pressing the air, forcing lowers like me to hunch shoulders lower, shrink completely. Scents mixed thickly—alphas' power, women's spices, pine from hung protective branches, blood from old rituals soaked into the stone forever, and my own fear—salty, pervasive, spreading around.

The ritual began slowly, words ancient, growling, echoing off walls and high vaults of the hall. First—senior alpha, Lord Edric, Kayl's father, stepped into the circle's center, his massive figure casting a long shadow in the red light. Voice low, vibrating, every word in the pack's ancient tongue—like hammer blows on anvil, heavy, unrelenting. He raised hands slowly, palms up to the Moon—red, enormous, hanging over the castle, its light flooding the circle in b****y hue, reflecting off salt and silver dust on the floor, making edge symbols flicker faintly, like living, pulsing heart. Words repeated—call to wolf gods, ancestors, power of blood and bond. "Lupus sanguis... fata ligare... luna rubra testari..."—growl in voice, pauses between words heavy, so energy built, so all felt pressure, so air thickened gradually.

Energy built gradually—air vibrated quietly at first, skin prickled with goosebumps like electricity, wolf inside me—weak, omega—whimpered quietly, cowered from pressure crushing chest, shoulders, entire body, forcing breaths faster, shallower. Alphas around circle repeated words—voices merging into low hum, growling, pressing like approaching storm, making floor under knees feel even colder, vibration transmitting through stone into bones. Brides—including me now—stood or knelt, heads lowered, hands on hips or chests in submission. Moon responded—light intensified gradually, red, thick like blood, penetrating skin pores, veins, making blood pulse faster, body burn inside with faint heat growing like fever.

Symbols on floor glowed faintly—silver dust flickering brighter, energy rising from ground in waves—cold at first, burning after, making body tremble stronger, breathing falter completely. Alphas raised hands higher, palms to Moon, words sped up—chorus growling louder, pauses shorter, energy exploding in wave—air thickened fully, pressure on chest like vise, skin burning, wolf inside howling quietly from fear and compulsion. Torches crackled louder, flames stretching up, shadows dancing on walls like living wolves ready to leap. Moon pulsed red, light striking eyes even through eyelids, body writhing from overload—heat in veins, cold on skin, uncontrollable tremor, sweat running down back and temples.

And then—it struck.

The bond.

Like lightning to the chest—scorching, tearing pain flaring instantly, without warning, without mercy. Body arched back sharply on its own, hoarse cry escaping, throat clenching fully, I fell forward completely, palms slapping cold circle stone, fingers digging into salt powder, scratching skin to blood. Pain throbbed in veins, heart, every cell—like brand, hot, unrelenting, tearing inside apart.

Scent—his scent—filled everything instantly, displacing others completely. Campfire smoke, cold blade metal, fresh pine needles after rain—heavy, dominant, penetrating lungs, blood, mind, very soul. Body pulled to him against will—warmth spreading in chest sharply, lower abdomen, making breathing falter completely, skin burn with fire, thighs clench instinctively like from touch.

I raised eyes for moment through tears and pain—he in center, Kayl Blackthorn. Face cold, motionless, dark blue eyes, scar through eyebrow sharp in Moon's red light. Gaze—pure contempt, rage in pause, lips pressed in line, body tense.

Pack froze completely—silence first like before storm, then whispers ran through circle like wind, gaining strength, indifferent but searing, humiliating in every intonation, voices intertwining, pressing, breaking, intensifying gradually.

“Omega...” whispered one alpha in back rows, voice full of disgust, heavy pause so words sank in. “Moon erred. Completely. This... shame.”

“Weak girl,” added woman beside Selena, voice cold, without pity, with light laugh cutting ears. “Servant on knees—and this king's pair? She writhes like worm in dirt.”

Selena—red-haired, proud—stepped closer to circle edge, green eyes flashing anger and triumph, voice sharp, loud so all heard, pause for effect so humiliation sank deeper.

“Shame!” she shouted, words like whip, echoing hall. “Omega in circle? Bond with her—insult to king! To entire pack! Kayl, tear it! Immediately! She's not worthy even standing here!”

Whispers intensified—indifferent but pressing like stones on chest, voices overlapping, gaining volume.

“Servant... her scent weak like dirt under feet,” said another alpha, voice low, contemptuous, pause so all heard. “King with such? Pack weaken. Enemies laugh.”

“Tear bond, Kayl!” shouted third from pack, voice full demand, fist clenched, pause for echo. “Don't shame us! Omega no place on throne! Kill mistake!”

“Moon's error!” added fourth, whisper turning to hum, indifferent but humiliating, voices merging. “Reject her publicly. Let crawl back to dirt.”

“She writhes like worm,” whispered bride nearby, voice with mockery, pause. “Weak. Won't withstand bond. Break first night.”

Jake—one of young guard trainees, sixteen, brunet, sturdy—stood in back rows with teens, his gaze slid to me—hesitation in eyes, pity for moment, quickly hidden, body tensing, fists clenched. He didn't shout like others, but whispered quiet to Reyn nearby: “This... wrong. She... no one deserves such.” Reyn growled quiet in response: “Shut up, brother. This pack shame.”

Edric—Kayl's father—stood silent, gaze heavy but indifferent as always, his pause most pressing, wordless.

Pain intensified—bond not releasing, burning deeper, pulling body to him like invisible chain, tearing will. I writhed on stone, tears running hot down cheeks, body in light convulsion, hands scratching floor, fingers bleeding from salt.

Horror—this him. My mate. Future king.

Falling to knees fully—body surrendered completely, head touching stone, dress soaked from sweat and tears, breathing ragged.

Pack's shock—indifferent judgment, dialogues burning ears, humiliating in details, breaking slowly.

Dependence—already begun, pulling, burning, breaking.