LYRA
My mouth is too dry to answer. I know the rules: don't make noise, don't struggle, don't give them the satisfaction of fear. But my body remembers every time before, every lesson the pack has taught me about the place of traitors' bloodlines.
In the Blackwood Pack and other packs, at most, unmated wolves who have not gotten their wolves yet are expected to remain virgins. If a wolf is impure before they find their mate, their mate has the right to reject them and could sentence them to death.
But this law mostly applies to she-wolves. Nobody really cares about the male wolves; everyone punishes the she-wolves for being defiled before awakening. And now, it's looking like I'm going to be one of the scorned she-wolves who lost their purity before awakening. It is all written in their lewd gazes.
"Please," I manage, but the word is useless.
The two other guards close in behind him, grinning like dogs scenting blood. I keep moving backward until there is nowhere else to move. My heart races in my chest, and tears well in my eyes. Seraphina set me up like this. I know she hates me for what the war took from her, but I never knew she wanted to ruin me.
Jarek snatches my wrist, twisting until my bones grind. "You're the reason Vaughn's dead," he hisses, and his voice is shaking with something between grief and hate.
I swallow a gasp. How long do they plan to punish me for those people's deaths? My only sin was being attacked by rogues that night and surviving.
"Let go," I whisper, trying to pull back, but his hand is an iron clamp on my wrist.
"You think you're special?" Jarek sneers. "Alpha Knox killed Vaughn, Pieter, and Beck because of you. Maybe if you had fûcking joined their little party as a good little wolf, none of them would have been lost. Now, you will pay."
The two men behind me laugh, and their laughter sounds like shattering glass. Jarek shoves me back against the nearest stall.
"Maybe it's time someone took what your brother cost us," Jarek says, and then his hand is at my throat, the other fumbling at my waist.
I fight. I try. My nails catch his cheek, and he curses, but it only makes them more eager. One of the others grabs my arms, pinning them behind my back, and the third holds my legs as Jarek rips my shirt open.
"I was taken by those bloodsuckers before my awakening," Jarek snarls. "I fûcking lost my mate to them. You think you're better than us?" Jarek spits. "Wouldn't it be fitting," he says, his voice low and dangerous, "to take your purity before the goddess shines her light? What will your mate do? No one wants a ruined bïtch."
The straw gouges my back as they force me down. I scream, or try to, but the sound is muffled by a hand and then by something worse. Jarek kneels between my legs, undoing his belt. His skin shines with sweat and hatred. I stop my struggle and shut my eyes, and tears slide down my temples. There is no need to struggle. Maybe I deserve all the punishment for being Elias' sister. When these people see me, all they see is their pain and everything they lost.
I feel Jarek's shaft nudging my entrance. "We will have you in turns, bïtch," Jarek snarls in my face as he spreads my legs wider.
"Lyra! Where are you, girl?"
Madam Maggie's voice rings out in the stable and Jarek goes still. The relief that crashes over me makes my body tremble and my sobs intensify. Maggie's voice has never sounded so soothing. Jarek is still on top of me, and for a second, I think he will just do it anyway, finish what he started, but the others hesitate.
"Jarek, we will be beheaded if we are caught," one of the guards says. "She hasn't gotten her wolf yet."
Jarek grunts, hastily tucks himself in, and glares down at me. "This isn't over," he growls. "Make sure you come back to the stables after your Harrowing, and we will enjoy that ripe body of yours."
I don't answer, I only sit up slowly, pulling my dress over my shoulders, still shaking. My breath won't come evenly. My heart pounds so hard it hurts.
"And, Lady Thorne, failure to come back here, I will strangle you. Am I clear?" Jarek threatens.
I nod.
"Good," he says and turns to the others. "If anyone asks, we were checking the horses."
Maggie appears at the stall door, eyes taking in everything—the torn shirt, the blood at my neck, the hay stuck in my hair, my tear-streaked face, and the men standing awkwardly. She says nothing about it. She never does.
She ignores Jarek and the others' presence. "Alpha Knox requires your presence immediately. Come now."
I recognize the lie. She doesn't care about my welfare; she is simply doing her job. Still, I scramble to my feet, my legs shaking so badly I nearly fall. But I pull myself together because the other option is to fall apart. I follow her back through the winding halls, my steps uneven, my body sore. I don't speak. Neither does she. But I'm grateful to be away from the stables, and my heart still pounds wildly in my chest.
When we return to the main arena, the ritual is about to begin. The moon is almost at its zenith now in the sky. I take my place at the edge of the gathering, my body still trembling from the assault. Marina Frost, the Moon Priestess, stands at the center of the ritual circle. Her face is painted with the sacred blue, her silvered hair wound tight and crowned with bone. The pack falls silent as she raises her arms, and her voice is low, almost inaudible, as she intones the old words, calling down the goddess, inviting her to witness, to judge, and to bind.
The triplet Alphas stand at the cardinal points; Alpha Kade stands north, Alpha Knox west, and Alpha Kalem east, each one of them is like a pillar holding up the world.
As the moon reaches its zenith, Marina completes the final words of the ritual. "Let the bonds be made," Marina says, and her voice is suddenly everywhere—inside my head, vibrating my bones.
The light comes all at once, like a silver spear from the moon. Where the light lands, it forks, and every wolf in the room is caught in it. It engulfs different wolves, connecting them to their mates in thin glowing threads. Gasps rise as wolves stagger into each other's arms, some crying, some laughing. The howls of those meeting their wolves for the first time fill the air, as they shift into their wolf forms.
Then the light hits me like a blow to the chest, so hard my knees buckle, and I taste blood. But something strange happens. My bond divides into three. One snaps toward the north—Alpha Kade. Another to the west—Alpha Knox. And the third slams into my core with bone-deep force to the east—Alpha Kalem. Silver threads stretch from my chest to all three Alpha triplets, glowing bright for everyone to see.
The Blood Moon has chosen me. And I am doomed.