Content Warning: This scene contains adult themes, sexual violence, and extreme physical abuse. Viewer discretion is strongly advised.
Elara was lying on the cold, damp floor of the dark dungeon, the rough stone beneath her pressing painfully into her bruised body.
The gag in her mouth made her teeth ache with every attempt to move or speak, but that dull, gnawing pain was nothing compared to the relentless ache radiating through her arms, legs, and back from the kicks and harsh grips of the men surrounding her.
Her whimpers were muffled, barely audible over the echoing walls, yet each shake of her body carried the weight of torment she struggled to endure.
Her forehead was cut and bleeding, streaks of crimson mixing with the tears that slipped down her cheeks, leaving wet trails that burned her already raw skin.
She tried to curl into herself, to make herself small, to endure the punishment, but every movement drew more cruel attention.
The four guards, that were ordered by Rosaline to do all this to her were standing in a semi-circle around her, looking at her with a mix of curiosity and sadistic amusement, their shadows flickering across the rough walls under the dim torchlight.
"Look at her, still conscious after all the torture we've done on her. I wonder if this wolfless has the same stamina in bed," one of the guards sneered, his words slicing through the dim silence like a knife.
Elara's eyes widened in shock and unimaginable fear, her heart hammering so violently she thought it might burst.
The combination of her physical pain and the vile suggestion made her entire body tremble. She tried to shrink back, crawling on her hands and knees, her bruised skin scraping painfully against the stone floor.
Tears blurred her vision, and each sob she wanted to release was stifled by the gag.
The guards leaned closer, intrigued by her resilience. The air around them felt suffocating, thick with the metallic scent of fear, sweat, and the cold dungeon stones.
"Oh, I so want to f^ck this mutt right now!" one of them growled, stepping toward her, eyes glinting with malicious intent.
But a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him. He froze, his gaze snapping to his companion, who hissed, "Your mate will know if you do that." The words hung in the air, a mix of threat and warning. Still, the guard, frustrated and enraged, lashed out with a hard kick to Elara, sending a fresh wave of pain through her already battered body.
She whimpered again, each sound muffled by the gag, but inwardly she felt a faint relief that they were holding back… for now.
That brief hope evaporated quickly when the youngest of the four stepped forward, a wicked grin on his face. "I don't have a mate yet, so I can do whatever I want. You oldies can enjoy watching me," he jeered, dropping to the floor near Elara and eyeing her with predatory intensity. She shuddered, every instinct screaming to recoil.
He reached for her chin, yanking her face toward his. "Why are you scared, wolfless? Weren't you desperate for some d—" His words were cut off as Elara summoned her last ounce of strength, delivering a swift kick to his groin.
He collapsed, a pained groan escaping him, and in retaliation, one of the other guards struck her face with a sharp, stinging blow.
"How dare you do that, you mutt! Now I will f^ck you while I hear your screams!" the groaning guard hissed, ripping the gag from her mouth. Air rushed into her lungs, her gasp loud and ragged as she finally could breathe and cry out.
Before she could react further, he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head up so she had no choice but to look into his dark, furious eyes. "Now you'll see what a beast like me can do!" he said, expecting her to cower like before.
But instead, Elara, her lips trembling and eyes burning with defiance, spat straight at him.
"I am your alpha's mate! I am Lucian Ashborne's mate! And when he wakes up I will make sure he chops you all up before feeding you to the rogues!" Elara screamed, her voice hoarse and raw from struggling against the guards and gag.
She flung her head back just enough to let her hair fall away, exposing the glowing, unmistakable mark on her neck.
The guard who had been gripping her hair froze mid-motion, a shudder running down his spine as his eyes widened at the mark. He took a cautious step back, his fingers twitching as he glanced at the other three guards surrounding him.
Each of them now stared at Elara with wide eyes, a mix of disbelief, fear, and confusion painted across their faces.
"You are lying, you mutt! Our alpha's mate is Luna Rosaline, not you!" one of the guards spat, trying to regain his composure. Yet even as he spoke, the blazing fire in Elara's eyes made him hesitate, stopping him from stepping closer.
"The alpha had said to bring this girl into the packhouse council," a voice rang out from behind them. The sound was commanding and sharp, leaving no room for argument.
All four guards froze again, fear etching itself deeper into their faces as they turned to see five more guards enter the dungeon, their stance firm and unyielding. In a swift motion, they lifted Elara from the cold stone floor, cradling her carefully despite the bruises and blood.
Elara exhaled shakily, a small, relieved smile breaking through the tension. Finally, this nightmare seemed to be coming to an end.
Her mate would see the truth now, and she believed with all her heart that Lucian would make sure justice was done.
The journey to the packhouse council felt endless. Her arms and legs ached, every step pressing against raw bruises, but her mind clung to the hope that Lucian would protect her.
As the massive doors of the council hall came into view, her chest tightened. She could see pack members filling the room, their murmurs low and tense. It seemed word of the incident had spread, and the weight of their judgment pressed down on her like a physical force.
Elara shivered involuntarily at the thought of Rosaline, who would undoubtedly try to twist the story to her own favor.
But that fear faded as a comforting memory of Lucian surged through her mind, how carefully he had treated her when he had marked her, how deliberate and protective he had been. He would see her truth now, and he would stand with her.
Her heart beat faster as she stepped into the main hall, the cold marble underfoot sending shivers up her legs. Pain radiated through her body with every small movement, yet a fragile hope kept her upright. And then, she saw him...Lucian, seated on the grand chair reserved for the Alpha.
Relief flickered across her face, a tiny smile escaping her lips despite the ache coursing through her. At least her mate was here, watching, judging, and hopefully understanding.
But that fleeting sense of security evaporated instantly. Her smile faltered, her stomach twisted in dread as her gaze fell on Rosaline who was sitting confidently in the seat reserved for the Alpha's mate, her posture flawless, her eyes scanning the room with calculated control. Lucian remained silent, his expression unreadable, offering no sign that he was ready to challenge her claim.
Rosaline rose gracefully, her presence commanding the attention of the entire hall. "Now that this wolfless is here," she began, her voice smooth and venomous, "I want to say to all that we are gathered to decide the punishment for Elara Throne, for pushing our Alpha's life into danger in an attempt to make him mark her using drugs so that she could pretend to be his mate."
A stunned murmur swept through the hall, whispers bouncing off the high ceilings as pack members exchanged incredulous glances not believing that someone had done something so forbidden.
Elara's stomach turned, her pulse thundering in her ears. The heat of fear and anger combined, making her feel as though the very walls were closing in. Hell had broken loose around her.