chapter four
817 Words
Chaper 4
My mother sat me down when I was ten and looked at me like she was giving me a crown.
"Elena Moretti," she said, her voice full of pride, "one day you will be part of the greatest tradition our world has ever known." An Alpha will pick you.
I remember being polite and smiling at her, but not convincing.
"No thanks, Mom."
Life was straightforward for me back then. School. Buddies. I enjoyed sprinting through the woods until my lungs ached. I wanted my wolf, real hunts, and a real reason to live. I wanted to get something. If I was lucky, I might be able to join the Guard and help the council.
There was still a choice then.
It slowly fell apart.
I was told it was time to join The Alpha's Chase when I was eighteen and had no partner or protection.
Not as a hunter. Girls never hunted.
We were the hunted.
I stood in line with my back straight and my hands folded neatly in front of me. The truth settled like frost on my skin. The tradition I had learned to honor felt different when I was inside its jaws.
A change in the room caught my eye.
The Lycan King moved.
He had been watching us quietly, more like a presence than a man. The air seemed to thin when he stepped forward, as if the room itself were leaning away from him.
He stopped at the first girl.
She felt her chin being pulled up roughly, and her breath caught as his cold, precise gaze moved over her. Not hungry. Not interested.
Evaluation.
"Turn."
The order was quiet. Totally.
Vivian did what she was told.
"Slower."
She changed right away, and every move was planned. The elders said that Vivian was everything a healthy woman should be. Tall. Strong. Sure of yourself. Even when his hand closed around her shoulders and stopped her from moving, her posture didn't change.
"Get down on your knees."
Yes, she did.
There was a flicker at the edge of her mouth. Not happiness. Not scared. I was amazed at how well it worked. There were many ways to survive here.
I kept my eyes down. Not in submission. I was actively engaged in the process of unraveling the situation.
The King went on.
A girl. And then another.
"Kneel."
"Kneel."
By the time he got to the girl in front of me, the word had lost all meaning.
My wolf pressed down on me, shaking but not making a sound. I took slow, even breaths. Panic was loud. I couldn't afford to be loud.
A loud noise broke the silence. The fabric is giving way. A breath that startled.
My muscles got tense, but I stayed still.
I didn't need to see anything to understand what was happening.
Liana's hand closed around my wrist next to me.
Firm. Warning.
Still, the moment lasted too long.
The King turned around.
He looked at me with deadly accuracy. Not mad. Interest.
"Do you mind?"
Every eye in the room turned slightly toward me.
Fear has a smell. I could feel it in the back of my throat.
"No, sir," I said, my voice steady even though I was frustrated inside.
He got closer.
"You were stopped."
"Yes."
"Why?"
He looked at Liana instead.
She took a drink. "I didn't want her to get hurt."
Shut up.
Then, softly, "Good girl."
The word did not bring comfort.
"And what if you get hurt instead?"
Liana stopped moving.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly.
I dug my nails into my palm to ground myself in the pain. This had nothing to do with mercy. The event was a lesson.
The King leaned in close to Liana's ear and spoke so softly that I couldn't hear him.
She quickly raised her head. Her fear grew stronger.
His hand closed around her throat and lifted her onto her toes in a flash of movement. The room seemed to pull back.
"Stay," he said without looking at us. "Don't move. Don't talk.
He let her go.
Liana tripped but didn't fall. She did what she was told.
The door at the end of the room opened, and darkness spilled out like ink. She went inside it and disappeared.
The door slammed shut.
Every part of my body told me to move.
I didn't.
We stayed.
The sound traveled too well in that room. The loud crack of leather. A cry that was choked. There was silence, and then something worse.
I looked straight ahead with an empty face and a glance back. Inside, something changed piece by piece.
This was what it cost to attract attention.
This was the punishment for being nice.
The consequence was the lesson.
The quiet felt heavier than the screams when they finally stopped.
I didn't cry.
I didn't look away.
I learned
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