Julian’s Point of View
Five hours had passed, five long, agonizing hours of relentless torment. Lucio and I remained on our knees, blood pooling around us, our fists ramming against our skulls with a force that would have killed a lesser wolf. The metallic scent of blood hung thick in the air, a grim reminder of our helplessness.
As an Alpha, my healing abilities were thrice as fast as a regular werewolf's, but that wasn’t the reprieve it should have been. Every time a wound closed, my fists would open it again, the cycle of healing and self-inflicted injury an endless loop of agony. It was sheer torture.
Each punch sent waves of pain coursing through my body, but worse than the pain was the humiliation. An Alpha, reduced to this—a powerless puppet at the mercy of a voice that had strip
