Chapter 6
1372 Words
Tessa
My wolf stirs within me; she groans at first, then we howl as I look at the bruises on my hands.
“And yet, you are still not healing,” he smirks, his eyes also on the bruises on my hands.
The glowing stops, and I try to pull out my claws, believing my wolf should have healed and that would help heal my bruises faster.
The claws struggle to come out, but they don't. Sanny isn’t strong enough yet, even the hope of a second chance mate can’t help her.
“Come off it! Bastard!” He drags me inside, his grip tight on my wrist. “My daughter was the only person who saw anything good in you and yet you killed her!!!”
“Please! Believe me! I didn't!”
“You were so jealous of her!!!” He yells and tosses me into the basement. “I should kill you! I have permission to, but I won't!!” He steps inside and glares at me, gritting his teeth. “I will make you pay for everything…”
“What about the video?” I ask, steadying myself up. “You had a chance to see who really killed my sister…. Your daughter! But you blew it away… why?!!”
I see the fury in his eyes, the pain of losing his assumed only child but he says nothing and this makes my heart beat faster.
I know I didn't kill Jasmine and somehow it feels like he does as well and yet, nothing I say matters.
“Or maybe they have paid you off!” I blurt out.
He clenches his fist, then lashes out, his hand colliding with my cheek with brutal force. “How dare you?”
He is the richest man in the pack, some might even say in the twelve packs of the East of Lythengar. Of course, this isn't about the money. But it still feels like he was promised something for him to turn a blind eye.
Tears well up in my eyes while my hand remains on my cheek. My father has always hated me, treated his slaves better than he treated me. With Jasmine dead, his hatred will obviously be multiplied, unless I manage to convince him that it wasn't I who killed her.
But what is the essence? The evidence was right before him and he chose not to look at it. He chose to blame me instead.
“Why is it so difficult to believe George killed Jasmine?” I ask, standing upright, finally pulling my hand off my cheeks.
“So I am supposed to believe a man kills his bride-to-be weeks before the wedding for no reason?”
“He tried raping the both of us!!” I blurt out.
“More lies!!! Theresa….More lies!!” He yells.
“If only you looked at the video….” I say, sobbing, tears dripping out of my eyes. “If only you bothered to even look….. You would have seen the truth.”
“The only truth I desire to accept is that you killed Jasmine!”
“Why?” I snap. “Do you really hate me so much that you seek validation to hate me even more?”
There is a moment of silence as he stares at me.
“For the crime of killing my daughter, Jasmine Moonbane, I sentence you ….”
“Father!” I cut in.
He grabs my wrist. “I sentence you to the 100 days of Scourging, without mercy, without reprieve."
“No .. no… please… don't.”
He flings me off him and turns to leave. I hurry to him, wrapping my arms around his waist, holding him tight, hoping that he listens to me and changes his mind.
“Father, please…. I loved Jasmine, if you condemn me to a fate worse than death, I may not survive to avenge her.”
He drags my hands off him and pushes me. Before I can stand and steady myself, he slams the metal door shut.
I walk toward the wall, then sit on the floor, hugging my knees as tears stream down my face.
My father has sentenced me to a hundred days of scourging, where every day I will be tortured for my sister’s death while the real killer roams free. No! I can’t take this. I can’t accept it. I must do something. I must prove my innocence to my father, even if he refuses to believe me.
My chest surprisingly tightens, I am suddenly feeling the same way I felt the first time I met Philip. The scent is so close, pulling me like a beacon. It seems as though my second-chance mate might be near.
At that moment, the door opens. I pull up my face towards the door, my heart beating so fast.
Ann walks in, carrying a tray filled with freshly roasted chicken and a glass of orange juice. She is one of the house’s cooks and she is in her usual baby pink apron, her blonde hair packed neatly beneath a pink chef’s hat.
My eyes widen as she steps closer and drops the food before me.
She glares at me like we have unfinished business and this is as surprising as the meal before me.
“Mr Moonbane says your 100 days of Scourging starts tomorrow…. So enjoy the meal, such won't come again.”
I try to speak but my chest tightens again. My wolf seems to be feeling our mate close by.
“Is there someone else in this house right now?”
“And why would you be asking that question?”
“Please… I just want to know.”
She folds her arms across her chest and then smirks. “George and Alfred, the Alpha's sons, are having a conversation with Mr Moonbane…. No doubt how to dispose of you.”
“Why would you even speak to me like that?”
“Why shouldn't I?” She releases her arms from her chest. “You killed Miss Jasmine.”
I don't know but the hurt in her eyes is deeper than the loss of my sister. They were never close. Yes Jasmine was loved by all but Ann wasn't her favourite.
“You greedy little thing…” she continues. “Perhaps you think that now she is dead, Mr Moonbane would put you as his successor… you… a bastard!”
“Enough Ann.” I glare at her. “Get out!”
She smiles. “Perhaps you didn't know but let me be the one to tell you…. Your mother didn't live to the tenth day of her days of Scourging.”
My heart skips a beat.
“What?”
“You didn't know… did you?” She grins and steps forward. “I heard she was also sentenced to the 100 days of Scourging for having you and she died on the ninth day.”
Tears blur my visions instantly.
She turns and leaves.
The tears stream down my cheeks, my heart suddenly aching. I have no memory of my mother, everything I know of her is what I'm being told of her.
My father told me she was a w***e, that fate punished her by making her bleed to death nine days after I was born. He never mentioned he was the one who punished her for giving birth to a child born without his birthmark.
I guess this is the end of the road. I mean if my mother, a white wolf, didn't survive the 100 days of Scourging, what chance do I have? My wolf is wounded and unable to heal. I doubt anybody has ever survived it, let alone me, with a crippled wolf.
A faint knock thuds against the door, pulling me out of my thoughts. In this moment, I feel the beacon pulling me again and I suddenly remember Ann mentioning George and Alfred speaking to my father.
My heart thunders and I grit my teeth. This cannot happen, the moon goddess cannot pair me with either of them.
The knock comes again, softer and yet disturbing. Who in the bloody moon knocks to see a prisoner?
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