THE FORSAKEN LYCAN PRINCESS.

CH 20..

The heavy, suffocating silence of the morning was shattered when three fully armed royal enforcers kicked open my cellar door.

They didn't give me time to pull on my boots or adjust my tunic. Their iron gauntlets slammed around my upper arms like steel traps, their grips desperate, rigid, and sweating with nervous tension. They knew what I was capable of now; they had seen Victoria’s swollen jaw and heard the echoes of Raymond’s thunderous blow. They dragged me through the cold stone corridors not with the lazy arrogance of past months, but with the frantic, jumpy energy of men handling a live explosive.

We bypassed the lower scullery and the Great Hall, ascending the winding spiral stairs that led directly into the restricted sanctuary of the Alpha’s private wing.

The Alpha’s private drawing room was bathed in a sickly, muted morning light filtering through heavy velvet draperies. The room smelled of expensive rosewater, stale wine, and the iron tang of fresh, dried blood.

Luna Victoria sat in a high-backed velvet armchair near the cold hearth.

She looked horrifying. The right side of her face was a dark, horrific canvas of deep, blackish-purple bruising that stretched from her cheekbone down to her throat. Her jaw was visibly off-center, wrapped tightly in white linen bandages, forcing her mouth into a grotesquely twisted, rigid sneer. Her eyes were bloodshot, sunken, and burning with a psychotic, unhinged venom that made her look less like a Luna and more like a rabid animal trapped in a cage.

Beside her stood two senior guards, their broadswords drawn and resting unsheathed against the stone floor.

When I was forced into the center of the room, Victoria didn't move. For three long, agonizing seconds, her single unswollen eye locked onto mine, chest heaving in shallow, ragged gasps through her bandaged mouth.

"Look at it," Victoria rasped, her voice thick, muffled, and slurred through her set teeth, dripping with a terrifying, unholy hatred.

"Look at the filthy, demonic parasite that dares to breathe my air."

I stood tall, keeping my left arm clamped tightly against my ribs. Despite the heavy iron gauntlets biting into my wrists, I held my head high, meeting her gaze with a serene, unbothered golden clarity.

"You think you won something, don't you?" Victoria slurred, her voice rising to a muffled, hysterical screech as she leaned forward, her fingers digging so deep into the velvet armrests that the fabric tore.

"You think because Raymond lost his temper... because he struck me in the hall... that you are safe?! You think you've grown wings, you wretched, cursed slut?!"

She spat a mouthful of dark blood onto the white rug beneath her feet, her voice cracking into a vicious, venomous curse.

"You are NOTHING! You are an unranked, motherless bastard born in the dirt! You are the dirt beneath my shoes, and I am going to scrape you off!"

"You tried that with the fire, Luna Victoria," I said quietly, my raspy voice smooth, clear, and utterly void of fear.

"And yet... here I am. Safe. While you sit behind bandages."

The words hit her like a bucket of scalding oil.

Victoria’s single visible eye widened in pure, chaotic rage.

"HOLD HER!" she screamed, her voice tearing through her bandaged jaw.

"HOLD THE BEAST!"

Before I could shift my weight or draw back my arm, the two guards behind me slammed their full physical weight against my shoulders. I twisted violently, my left elbow snapping back to strike one in the ribs, my bare feet digging into the rug as I tried to throw off their grip.

"Get off me!" I hissed, my hazel eyes flaring with a dangerous golden light.

But the two senior guards on the floor joined them, pinning my arms behind my back, forcing my head down toward the hearth. Their iron gauntlets dug brutally into my raw, blistered skin, pinning my joints until I couldn't move an inch.

Victoria slowly rose from her chair.

She picked up a heavy, solid silver fire poker from the hearth. Her movements were slow, deliberate, and trembling with a psychotic, sadistic delight. She stepped up to me, standing just inches from my constrained face, her breath smelling of copper and bitter tonic.

"You took my dignity in front of the council," Victoria whispered, her muffled voice raspy, vibrating with pure, unadulterated madness.

"You broke my bone. You turned my husband against me. But you forget who rules this house while Raymond hides in his tower."

Without warning, she brought the flat of the cold, heavy silver poker crashing across my left cheek.

PAAAACK!

The impact sent a blinding flash of white light exploding behind my eyes. The copper taste of blood burst across my mouth as my split lip tore wide open once again. My head snapped violently to the side, but the guards held my body rigidly upright, refusing to let me fall.

Victoria leaned her bruised, bandaged face so close to mine I could feel the heat radiating from her skin.

"You think you are clever, Elara," she hissed through her teeth, her voice dropping into a razor-sharp, terrifying whisper.

"You think you can play the ghost of Evelyn in my halls. But hear me now, you filthy parasite... your days in this pack are numbered."

She jabbed the dull, heavy tip of the iron poker hard into the center of my chest, making my breath hitch in my throat.

"I am going to strip the skin from your bones piece by piece," Victoria whispered, her eye burning with an absolute, lethal promise.

"Before the next moon rises, I will personally throw your lifeless body into the ash lands. You will die in the dirt, just like your pathetic mother."

She stepped back, wiping a speck of blood from her bandaged lip with the back of her trembling hand, and gave a sharp, disgusted flick of her fingers.

"Throw the garbage back into the cellar," Victoria ordered coldly.

"And leave her to rot until I call for her again."

The guards released their grip, shoving me forward with brutal force.

I stumbled onto my knees against the cold marble floor, the silver fire poker clattering to the carpet behind me. I coughed, wiping a thick trail of fresh crimson blood from my split lip with the back of my hand, my breathing heavy, ragged, and hot.

I slowly pushed myself up off the stone floor. I didn't weep. I didn't beg. I turned my head slowly and looked back at Luna Victoria over my shoulder.

My hazel eyes caught the pale morning light, burning through the dark drawing room with a cold, unbreakable, lethal fire that made her take an involuntary half-step back.

Without uttering a single word, I straightened my spine and walked out of the Alpha’s wing on my own two feet.