The Pack Doctor Is My Mate

The punishment.

Riley POV

“Ouch…” I hiss through clenched teeth as I try lifting myself from the mud, only for sharp pain to shoot through my ribs. My arms give way, and I collapse again. Mud splashes against my cheek, cold and stinging where my skin is torn.

“Ouch!” I hiss a second time, louder, as the pain intensifies in waves. For a moment, I simply lie there, chest heaving, body trembling from the mixture of pain, exhaustion, and cold.

I honestly don’t know how much longer I can live like this. Every day feels like a punishment I never escape. Every breath hurts. Every step reminds me I’m not wanted. And still, the one thing I wish for more than anything to hear my wolf remains unanswered. Not even a whisper. Not even once.

I force myself to look up. Dozens of pack wolves stand around me, eyes burning with cruelty and excitement. They came to watch me suffer like they always do.

This is the Field, the place where the pack executes punishments. It’s where they drag me every time they claim I’ve done something wrong. Most of the time, there is no reason. They just enjoy hitting me. Hurting me. Breaking me.

And the one who enjoys it most is Waylen Hector, the Alpha’s son and the Alpha in waiting.

His father may be heartless, but Waylen? Waylen is worse..colder, sharper, crueler.

My body aches just remembering all the times he’s tormented me. Like the day he ordered me to bring him medicine to his room. I had tried to be quick. Efficient. Obedient.

But as I approached his bedroom door, I heard moans..loud, desperate, s****l moans from inside. I froze, unsure of what to do. Do I knock? Do I turn back? Do I wait?

But hesitation is always punished here. So I pushed the door open.

“How dare you enter my bedroom when I’m busy?” Waylen had roared, so loudly that my entire body trembled. The rage in his eyes alone could have killed me. And of course he didn’t need anyone to explain what he was doing.

His balls were deep in some pack w***e who never got tired of following him around like a stray mutt.

“How would I have known you were busy—f*****g one of your w****s?”

The words had slipped out before I could stop myself. My tongue moved faster than my brain. And before the shock even hit me, I regretted it. And I mean deeply regretted it.

Waylen punished me until I couldn't move for days. I was locked inside the darkroom in the basement of the main house no light, no food, no warmth for three long nights. I nearly died there.

All of that comes rushing back as I lie face-down in the mud, my tiny frame shaking as I try to withstand the familiar pain. I breathe slowly, trying not to break, trying not to scream.

My only hope...the only thing keeping me alive is the thought of turning eighteen. The moment I meet my mate.

He will be my escape. My shield. My freedom.

He will defend me from the torture, the insults, the endless suffering I’ve endured since the day the Midnight Pack abducted me.

He will help me destroy this pack for what they did to mine.

“We’re only leaving you alive because there are too many wolves who need treatment right now,” Waylen says coldly.

His words slice through the air like a final blow. He spits on the ground near my face, then turns sharply, signaling the others to follow. They walk away, laughing, leaving me struggling to rise, trying to balance on shaking legs as warm blood drips down my temples and neck.

*

I don’t know how long I remain there, staring at my muddy hands, forcing breath after breath into my lungs. Eventually, I manage to stand. Barely. Every step feels like fire spreading through my veins.

But I walk. I have to.

I begin making my way toward the clinic, my only place of purpose. My only usefulness. My nightmare and my salvation.

“Hurry up, you b***h!”

The shrill, high-pitched voice slices through my thoughts. I sigh and turn to see Jasmine stomping toward me, eyes blazing like she owns the whole world.

One more pain in my ass.

Jasmine, daughter of Beta Lucas. The princess of entitlement. The on-and-off girlfriend of Waylen a relationship based more on s*x than anything resembling affection or loyalty. I’ve seen her drape herself over him like a decorative scarf, acting like she’s already Luna.

And every day she reminds me of it.

Every. Single. Day.

I keep walking at the same pace. I don’t even bother responding. She doesn’t deserve my energy.

But of course, she follows me.

“Oh, so now you’re ignoring me?” she snaps, flipping her hair dramatically. “I swear, Riley, one day—”

“Between you and me,” I cut in sharply, stopping to turn toward her, “who’s the real b***h?”

Her face flushes an angry shade of red. Jasmine hates it, hates it when anyone talks back to her. She believes she’s already Luna, that everyone should bow to her, worship her, fear her.

She raises her hand to strike me.

Typical. But not true.

Instinct takes over, and before I fully process what I’m doing, I catch her wrist midair. Her eyes widen, shocked and offended.

Recently, it seems all I do is grab people’s hands..Waylen’s, the Luna’s, now Jasmine’s. Maybe I’m getting tired of being hit. Maybe I’m changing. Maybe something inside me is waking up.

Or maybe I’m just done.

Without another thought, I push her. Hard.

Jasmine falls backward into the still-wet, muddy ground, landing with a loud splash and a gasp. Her expensive clothes are instantly ruined. Her hair sticks to her face. Her pride shatters.

“Never attempt to hit me again,” I warn her sharply, my voice low, dangerous even to my own ears. Then I turn and walk away, entering the clinic without looking back.

I hear her screaming curses behind me, but I don’t care.

Maybe it’s stupid.

Maybe I’ll end up caged or chained or thrown back into the darkroom.

But today, I just don’t care.

I also overheard Alpha Damien speaking earlier about preparing for more attacks. They need me. They might hate me, but they need me. As long as I’m the best doctor they have, they won’t kill me. Torture me? Yes. But kill me? No.

It’s a twisted justification, but it’s the only shield I have.

**

Inside the clinic, chaos overwhelms the air. Injured wolves are everywhere on beds, on the floor, leaning against walls.

Some are still in wolf form, too weak to shift back, their fur matted with blood and dirt. Others are half-shifted, their bones stuck between forms from pain and exhaustion.

The smell of blood fills my lungs. Panic. Desperation. Weak howls echo through the room.

This is what I’m good at and what they keep me alive for.

“Where have you been?”

Waylen’s voice strikes me from behind like a whip. I don’t even turn around immediately. I’m tired. I’m covered in mud and blood. And I’m not a damn slave.

Even though that’s exactly what they treat me as.

I begin pulling out supplies—herbs, vials, bandages—determined to work. Determined to ignore him.

“Am I talking to a deaf?” he roars.

The next thing I feel is his hand clamping around my arm. His grip is tight, painfully tight. His strength, amplified by his wolf, sends another jolt of pain through my already-injured body.

I try to pull away, but it’s impossible. He’s too strong.

He yanks me close, his breath warm and filled with irritation. “Next time, be extra careful about what you choose to do,” he growls.

Before I can respond before I can even breathe,he shoves me.

Hard.

My body stumbles backward, hitting the edge of a table before falling to the floor. A chorus of laughter erupts around us. Wolves snicker. Some point. Some whisper.

I swallow the lump in my throat, biting back tears. Not here. Not now.

I push myself up slowly, ignoring the humiliation burning in my chest. I will not give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.

Not today, not ever.

Because my eighteenth birthday is coming.

My mate is coming.And when I finally meet him… everything will change.

I swear it.