Chapter 4
Sandra clutched her swollen cheek, her laugh twisted with venom and sick pleasure.
“Run? Selena, unless you kneel and beg forgiveness for Sherry, you’ll never walk out that door alive.”
Her friends drifted forward, circling me like predators, their steps soft but dripping with menace. Their eyes gleamed with false sympathy, lips curled in open mockery.
“Well, well… isn’t this the Pine princess?”
“Look at her now—pale as death. Terrified, aren’t you?”
“Serves her right. Do enough vile things, and karma stinks worse than rot.”
Their gazes sliced into me, cold and cruel.
“Sandra says you’re carrying a pup? Hah! What a joke. Tell us, Selena—whose blood runs in that belly? Ulrica’s been away patrolling for weeks. He only just returned.”
Sandra lowered her lashes, feigning shock and wounded sorrow, her voice trembling:
“Don’t say that… perhaps… perhaps Ulrica—”
“Naïve Sandra, you’re too kind!” one friend snapped.
“A wolf like her would spread her legs for anyone if it got her status. That pup could belong to half the Pack, and she wouldn’t even know the father!”
Then another’s eyes lit with cruelty. She clapped her hands, laughing loud:
“I’ve got an idea! Let’s place a bet—guess the pup’s father! We’ll blood-test her right here. Whoever’s right takes her home as a prize!”
The men, who’d sat silent till now, stirred at once. Their laughter turned dark, hungry, obscene.
“I’m in! A pregnant wolf? I’ve never tasted one before!”
“Count me too! With a body like that—worth every bite!”
Their filth seared my ears, each word fueling the blaze inside me.
I trembled, fury surging like fire through my veins, until my gaze locked on Ulrica—
He stood there, watching, smirking, doing nothing.
When I glared at him, he finally moved, steps steady, voice rising above the din like a lash of iron.
“The Pine Pack is already under Elder investigation. Think about your parents rotting in prison.”
He paused, eyes glinting with malicious glee as he drank in my paling face. His tone slowed, cruel as poison:
“Oh, and your helpless sister—the cripple who can’t even feed herself. If you keep disobeying… she might starve to death alone. No one would notice.”
He leaned close, his breath brushing my ear, voice cold enough to pierce bone.
“Kneel. Bow to Sherry’s memory. Do that, and perhaps… I’ll show you a scrap of mercy.”
The air froze, choking. My wolf thundered inside me, bloodline howling for war.
Tonight, I will not bow.
