The Rejected Wolf and Her Three WereMates

Chapter 6 : Not entirely a wolf

HARPER

~~~

CRACK!

The silver-plated whip tore through the air, biting into the flesh of my lower back. A shrill scream ripped from my throat, bouncing off the damp, stone walls of the dungeon.

My arms were pulled taut above my head, my wrists bound by thick iron chains bolted directly into the ceiling. Ruby had ripped off my hoodie, leaving me exposed in just my bra and jeans, my skin burning under the damp chill of the cell and the searing pain of the whip.

"Harder, Marcus," Ruby's voice purred from the other side of the iron bars.

I raised my head, sweat and tears stinging my eyes as I glared at her through the tangled mess of my hair. She was leaning against the stone wall, her arms crossed over Mason's dark dress shirt, a cold, venomous smile playing on her lips.

"Look at you," she mocked, stepping closer to the bars, her gaze raking over my trembling form. "You really thought you could come back here and ruin things like you've always done?"

The whip cracked against my skin again, ripping another shrill scream from my throat. Through the haze of pain clouding my mind, I glared at Ruby.

"You better run, Ruby!" I gasped out, my voice cracking as my knuckles turned white against the chains. "Because if I get my hands on you, I swear to the goddess, I will tear you apart. Consider this a head start."

She threw her head back and laughed. "With what strength? You're no match for me, Harper. You're just a weakling in a territory full of apex predators. Marcus, strike her harder. Teach her some respect."

The guard raised his arm, the whip whistling as it prepared to strike. I braced myself, closing my eyes, waiting for the agony.

Instead, a deafening, monstrous roar shook the deep dungeon.

Ruby and I froze at the same time as the feral earth-shattering roar cut through the silent air. The sound vibrated through the stone floor, rattling the iron chains above my head and hitting my chest with enough force to make me stumble.

Marcus froze, the whip hovering mid-air, his face draining of all color.

Ruby's cruel laughter died instantly. A visible tremor shook her frame, her eyes widening in pure terror as she staggered back from the cell bars.

Then came the explosion.

The iron door of the dungeon sector flew off its hinges, blasting inward and almost hitting Ruby. It shattered against the far wall in a hail of stone dust and twisted metal.

Through the debris, three massive silhouettes stormed into the corridor, their bodies half-shifted, their muscles swollen to monstrous proportions, and their eyes glowing a lethal, feral gold.

They weren't men right now. They were beasts driven by a primal, bone-crushing rage.

"Alphas..." Ruby squeaked, but she never got to finish.

Ryder moved with terrifying, blinding speed. With a single backhand, he struck Ruby, sending her flying across the passage. She hit the stone wall hard and crumpled to the ground, groaning in agony.

At the same time, Dallas stormed into the cell, ripping the iron gate completely off with a deafening screech of metal. Marcus tried to drop the whip and fall to his knees, but Dallas was already on him.

With a low, savage growl, he grabbed Marcus by the throat, lifting him effortlessly before slamming him into the ground with enough force to crack the stone. I winced as the sound of snapping bones echoed through the cell.

Then, there was Mason.

His golden eyes were locked entirely on me, burning with a mix of fury and devastating horror. With a single swipe of his clawed hand, he slashed through the iron chains holding my wrists.

The metal snapped like twigs. My legs gave out instantly, but I didn't hit the cold floor. Mason caught me, pulling my weak, trembling body tightly against the massive, burning heat of his chest.

"Harper," he choked out, his voice thick with an emotion I had never heard from him before.

He stripped off his shirt, wrapping the soft fabric around my exposed, bleeding shoulders to shield my body from the damp air. Then he scooped me up into his arms, lifting me effortlessly against his chest as if I weighed nothing at all.

My vision began to blur at the edges, the darkness of exhaustion and blood loss finally pulling me under. I tried to stay awake, my fingers feebly clutching at the fabric of Mason's shirt, but my strength was entirely spent.

"It hurts," I whispered, hating how weak my voice sounded.

Mason murmured something to his brothers, but I didn't catch it. My body went limp as pain dragged me into the darkness.

...

A dull ache around my shoulders roused me awake hours later.

I groaned, my eyelids feeling like lead as consciousness slowly crept back. Every muscle in my body felt battered, and a raw, burning agony flared across my back with the slightest movement.

I was lying flat on my stomach, my face buried in a plush, silk pillow that smelled faintly of expensive cologne and fresh rain.

"Keep her still," a quiet voice murmured nearby.

A cool, soothing ointment was gently rubbed into the shredded skin of my back, taking the edge off the burning fire. I blinked my eyes open, recognizing the sterile but luxurious surroundings of the pack's private clinic.

The pack doctor, an elderly shifter named Dr. Alistair, was standing beside the bed, working meticulously with the help of his assistant.

I tried to push myself up, but a sharp spike of pain shot through my spine, forcing a whimper from my lips.

"Don't move, Harper," a deep voice commanded from the corner of the ward.

I tilted my head sideways. Standing at the edge of the room, completely silent until now, were Mason and his brothers. They looked furious, and their enormous, broad-shouldered frames seemed to swallow the light.

The air in the ward was dense, thick with a mix of suppressed fury, worry, and a rare, suffocating fear.

Dr. Alistair wiped his hands on a towel and turned toward the three Alphas.

"How is she?" Mason demanded. His voice sounded calm, but the gold still shimmering in his irises told a completely different story.

"The physical trauma was severe, Alpha," Alistair said, sighing as he adjusted his glasses. "The silver whip Ruby used was meant to permanently scar a normal shifter. But fortunately, Harper will recover."

Ryder let out a harsh, tight breath, his large fists unclenching slightly, while Dallas simply closed his eyes, his rigid shoulders relaxing a fraction of an inch.

"But..." Alistair hesitated, looking back at me, his expression suddenly turning tense. My stomach churned as he began speaking again.

"While treating her wounds, I realized something strange. She is healing at a rate that defies everything we know about shifter biology."

Mason stepped forward, the floorboards groaning under his weight. "What do you mean? Werewolves heal fast."

"Not like this," Alistair said, shaking his head. "A werewolf's body repairs itself from the outside skin inward to seal the wound. But Harper... her tissues are regenerating from deep within, even faster than us bear shifters, as if a source of energy is rebuilding her. And when I ran some test, I discovered a strange residue in her blood stream."

I forced myself to sit up, gritting my teeth against the pain and ignoring the assistant who tried to help me. I didn't like the fact that they were talking about me like I wasn't there.

"What are you talking about?" I asked weakly. "What strange residue?"

Mason locked eyes with his brothers, silently communicating through the shared soul-link between them.

"What exactly are you trying to say, Alistair?" Dallas grounded out finally.

Alistair took a step back picked up the test results and stared at it, then looked straight at the triplets.

"I am saying that Harper isn't an ordinary shifter. In fact, if my findings are correct, she isn't even entirely a werewolf."

He turned and looked at me, a soft frown creasing his brows. "There is something ancient that has been dormant in her blood until now."