Melissa.

"You shameless bitch!"

My father's voice thundered through the room, shaking the walls and my already fragile resolve. His eyes were locked on me, blazing with fury and disgust, as if I were something filthy that had stained his life. Before I could even lift my head, his hand swung.

The impact came fast and brutal.

Pain exploded across my face as his palm connected with my cheek, snapping my head to the side. My ears rang, my vision blurring for a moment as his words followed the blow, sharp and merciless.

"Why can't you just be like your sister?"

That question again.

It echoed in my mind, familiar and cruel, a sentence I had heard my entire life. I swallowed hard, tasting blood at the corner of my mouth as I stared at the floor. No matter how hard I tried, no matter what I did, I never fit. I was always lacking, always wrong, always the disappointment standing beside perfection.

My father paced in front of me like an enraged beast.

"You nearly cost me my head!" he roared. "Even the Alpha triplets couldn't withstand you! Do you know what would have happened if your sister wasn't in our lives?"

His words pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating. My hands trembled where they rested on my lap, but I stayed silent, my knees aching against the cold floor. I had been ordered to kneel the moment the ceremony ended, instructed not to move, not to speak.

I was still here because my punishment had not yet been decided.

Because, as they said, I had failed the family.

"She has always been a disaster, Dad!"

Fredrick's voice cut in harshly, filled with venom. I lifted my eyes just enough to meet his glare, a look so full of hatred it felt like it could pierce straight through me. There was no brotherly warmth there, no hesitation, only accusation.

I lowered my gaze again.

My body felt heavy, exhausted from holding in everything I wasn't allowed to express. Every muscle screamed in protest, but I stayed kneeling, just as they wanted, just as I had been taught.

Then Amelia spoke.

"Dad, please calm down. It isn't Melissa's fault."

Her voice was soft, gentle, wrapped in false kindness. It floated through the tension like a balm, and I felt every pair of eyes shift toward her. When I dared to glance up, I saw the expression on her face, a smile so carefully composed it could easily be mistaken for concern.

"Let's leave her, Dad," she continued sweetly. "I forgive her for stealing my necklace. The family is safe for now."

Those words did it.

I barely had time to flinch before another sharp sound cracked through the air. My head snapped sideways as pain erupted anew, hotter and more stinging than before.

My mother.

Luisa's hand had struck me hard, her eyes cold and unforgiving.

"How dare you steal your sister's necklace?" she demanded, her voice trembling with outrage. "How dare you shame this family even further?"

The room spun slightly as I fought to steady my breathing. My cheek burned. My jaw ached. But I said nothing.

There was no point.

I didn't try to explain. I didn't deny it. I didn't cry out in protest. I simply knelt there in silence, my head bowed, my hands clenched tightly to keep them from shaking.

Because I knew the truth.

They would never believe me.

No matter what I said, no matter how loudly I screamed my innocence, it would always be drowned out by Amelia's soft words, by their need for me to be the villain. I was the easy one to blame, the family's burden, the disaster they all agreed upon.

So I stayed quiet.

And let their judgment fall on me like it always did.

"Amelia, darling, there is no need to go soft on her."

My brother's voice cut through the room with practiced ease, smooth and confident, as if he were stating an obvious truth. He moved closer to Amelia, slipping an arm around her and pulling her into his chest, holding her like something fragile and precious. Like a baby that needed shielding.

"She deserves to be punished," Fredrick continued, his gaze flicking toward me briefly, filled with disdain. "Maybe then she'll finally learn how to act the right way."

The words settled heavily in the air, final and condemning.

"But Fredrick..." Amelia began, her voice hesitant, almost pleading, as though she were torn between mercy and duty.

She never finished.

My father straightened, his expression hardening into something cold and unyielding. When he spoke, his voice carried authority, no room for debate, no space for mercy.

"According to the family book of law," he said firmly, "Melissa is to be whipped thirty strokes."

The sentence fell like a death knell.

Before I could even process the meaning of his words, before fear could fully take shape in my chest, he turned and walked out of the room. Just like that. As if my fate had been nothing more than a line to be read aloud and forgotten.

The room seemed to freeze for a heartbeat.

Then everything moved at once.

In a split second, the guards stepped forward. Strong hands seized my arms, their grip unrelenting as they yanked me to my feet. My knees nearly buckled beneath me, the sudden movement sending a jolt of pain through my body.

I didn't resist.

What was the point?

They dragged me toward the door, my feet barely touching the ground as I struggled to keep my balance. The murmurs behind me faded, replaced by the heavy sound of boots and my own uneven breathing.

"Wait!"

Amelia's voice rang out suddenly.

The guards didn't stop, but I felt a tug in my chest as I realized she was following us. She rushed after me, her footsteps light and hurried, as if she truly cared.

"Melissa, I am so sorry," she said, leaning in close as we paused briefly in the corridor. Her face was inches from mine, her eyes wide, her expression filled with what looked like remorse.

For a moment, I almost believed it.

Then she lowered her voice, her lips brushing near my ear, the sound barely more than a whisper.

"The Alpha triplets have always been mine," she murmured softly. "You should have known your place. Think of this as a little gift of mine."

The words slid into me like poison.My heart shattered quietly, painfully, piece by

piece.

Amelia straightened, her expression shifting in an instant. The sorrow vanished, replaced by calm satisfaction. She reached out, brushing at my clothes as if removing invisible dirt, her fingers light and dismissive.

Then she turned her back on me.

Without another word, she walked away, her steps unhurried as she headed back inside, back to warmth, safety, and victory.

I was left standing there, restrained by the guards, being dragged forward again, down a path I hadn't chosen, toward a punishment I could not escape. My chest felt hollow, my spirit weighed down by misery and the cruel reality of my fate.

Why was I so unfortunate?

Melissa.

I was placed on the table in front of our house, my body stretched out like an offering meant for slaughter. The wood beneath me was cold and unforgiving, pressing into my skin as rough hands secured me in place. I could feel every splinter, every uneven edge, as if the table itself was preparing me for what was to come.

My father was already seated a few steps away, his posture rigid, his expression carved from stone. He did not look at me as a daughter. He looked at me as a sentence waiting to be carried out.

My gaze drifted despite myself.

Amelia clung to Fredrick, tucked into his arms like a fragile child seeking comfort. He held her tightly, one hand resting protectively on her back. They both looked at me, Amelia with wide, glistening eyes that reflected nothing but cold triumph beneath the surface, Fredrick with open disdain. Neither of them looked away.

"Start!" my father ordered.

The word had barely left his mouth when the first whip cut through the air.

The sound came before the pain, a sharp, whistling crack then agony exploded across my back. Fire erupted along my skin, searing and blinding. My body arched violently against the restraints as a scream tore from my throat. I was certain my flesh had split open, that my skin had already peeled away under the force of it.

I gasped for breath, my chest heaving as tears burned down my face.

Then came the second whip.

This time, the pain was deeper, heavier. It crashed into me with brutal force, driving the air from my lungs. A sickening numbness spread through my body, replacing the sharp agony with something far more terrifying. I heard a sound, sharp, unmistakable.

A crack.

My breath hitched in panic. Fear flooded me, cold and paralyzing. What if I never walk again? The thought screamed through my mind as my legs trembled uselessly beneath me.

Inside me, my wolf roared.

She stirred violently, pacing, snarling, her pain mirroring mine. I felt her shift uncomfortably within me, her fury and fear clashing as she strained against the bonds holding us both captive. Her anguish only amplified my own, doubling the torment.

The third whip came down before I could recover.

By then, I was no longer fully present. The world blurred at the edges, sounds becoming distorted, distant. Faces melted into shadows. My cries weakened, fading into hoarse, broken sounds as my strength drained away. My vision swam, darkness creeping in like a slow, merciless tide.

My eyelids fluttered.

I fought to keep them open, fought to stay conscious, but my body betrayed me. Everything hurts.

Then came the fourth whip.

My body jerked violently against the table as unbearable pain tore through me one final time. Something warm filled my mouth. I choked, coughing as a mouthful of blood spilled from my lips, splattering against the wood beneath me.

I couldn't hear anything anymore.

I couldn't see.

The world slipped away as the last bit of strength left my body, and darkness swallowed me whole.

Splash!

I gasped as icy water crashed over me, shocking me awake. My eyes flew open instantly, my body jerking as the cold seeped deep into my bones, biting and merciless. Every nerve screamed in protest. Pain rushed back all at once, hot, overwhelming, unbearable, layered over the numbing chill that clung to my skin.

I blinked rapidly, my vision swimming, until two familiar eyes came into focus.

Fredrick.

He stood over me, looking down with nothing but contempt etched across his face. There was no concern there only disgust.

"Weakling," he sneered, his lips curling cruelly. "You couldn't even take the fifth whip, and you think you can escape?" He gave a short, mocking laugh. "Dream on."

His words cut deeper than the cold water soaking into my clothes. My chest tightened painfully as I tried to move, only to realize my body barely responded. I was still strapped down, still exposed, still powerless.

Fredrick turned sharply, his patience clearly exhausted.

"Give me the whip," he ordered the guards coldly. "I'll discipline her myself, as her brother."

The words shattered something inside me.

Tears streamed freely down my face as I turned my head slightly, my gaze locking onto him. My vision blurred, but I could still see him clearly enough. I had always known Fredrick didn't like me. His indifference had long since turned into open hostility.

But this?

I never imagined he could hate me this much.

My lips trembled as I tried to speak, but no sound came out. Only a broken sob escaped my throat, swallowed by the open air.

Whoosh!

The sound came fast, violent, slicing through the air before I could even brace myself.

The fifth whip landed on my back with devastating force.

Agony exploded through me, brighter and sharper than before. I screamed, a raw, broken sound torn straight from my chest. The pain was unbearable, far worse than the guards' strikes. My wet clothes clung tightly to my body, plastered against my skin, giving the whip nothing to soften its impact. It cut deeper, burned hotter, tore through me like I was made of nothing at all.

My body convulsed violently against the restraints, every muscle locking up as my breath came in ragged gasps. Tears poured down uncontrollably, mixing with the water still dripping from my hair and clothes.

I couldn't take this.

I couldn't survive another one.

Fredrick raised his arm again.

Just before the sixth whip could fall, a powerful voice thundered through the space, sharp and commanding.

"STOP!"

The word echoed, heavy with authority.

My body froze, not from fear this time, but from shock.

Summoning what little strength I had left, I forced my head up slightly, my neck screaming in protest. My vision swam, but then I saw them.

The Alpha triplets.

They stood there, their presence impossible to ignore, their expressions hard and unreadable. Cain was at the front, his eyes blazing as he stepped forward.

"Stop!" Cain shouted again, his voice cutting through everything.

My heart pounded wildly in my chest, confusion crashing into me all at once.

What was going on?

Hadn't they discarded me? Hadn't they turned their backs on me, chosen Amelia, erased me from their fate?

So why were they here now?

Melissa.

I was still drowning in questions, confused, terrified, desperate, when muffled voices pulled me back to reality.

My father's voice echoed sharply, commanding attention, though I could not make out the words. The Alphas had moved with him toward the corner of the courtyard, their backs turned to me. They stood clustered together, speaking in low tones. Whatever discussion was happening, I was clearly the topic-my fate hanging in the balance in hushed sentences I would never hear.

My heart hammered weakly in my chest.

Were they arguing about me? Deciding whether to end the punishment? To reject me officially? Or... to kill me?

I didn't know.

All I wanted, desperately, was to be freed. My body trembled as I lay there, still bound to the table, every breath searing through my broken ribs. I wanted the pain to stop. I wanted air. I wanted mercy. I wanted someone, anyone to say I had suffered enough.

But no one came forward.

No one spoke for me.

They returned shortly after, their expressions unreadable, their steps slow and deliberate. The moment they reached their original positions, I felt the air shift, heavier, colder and suffocating.

And then I heard it.

"My brothers and I will take over," Cypril declared.

His voice rang clear and final, slicing into me more painfully than any whip had.

My heart stopped. I could feel the blood in my veins stall, thickening with dread.

Take over?

No.

No, no, no.

Not them.

Anyone but them.

I would have preferred Fredrick. I would have taken every lash from his cruel hands rather than be whipped by the men who, just hours ago I had believed, were my destined mates. The same men whose approval I had once secretly hoped to win. Whose eyes I had dreamed might someday soften at the sight of me.

Tears spilled freely down my cheeks, hot even against the cold wind.

Cypril stared at me with nothing but disdain.

"This is what you deserve for stealing from my fiancée, Melissa," Caleb added harshly as he stepped forward, extending his hand.

Fredrick hesitated for a heartbeat, then handed him the whip without a word, almost gleeful that responsibility was shifting.

Caleb ran a hand along the length of the whip, straightening it slowly, almost ceremoniously. The leather gleamed beneath the sunlight, slick and deadly. He lifted it once, swung it lightly through the air.

Whoosh.

The sound alone sent a tremor ripping through my spine.

Fear tightened around my throat like a vice. I felt myself choking on air.

"How many strokes are left?" Cain asked, stepping forward, his face completely blank. No anger. No pity. Just cold, emotionless duty.

"Twenty-five, Alpha Cain," Fredrick answered quickly-too quickly. His voice carried a twisted satisfaction, and I saw his lips stretch into a wide grin he didn't bother to hide.

He was enjoying this.

Cypril let out a breath, folding his arms as he tilted his head with exaggerated thoughtfulness.

"We can't split twenty-five equally, Cain," he said casually, as if he were discussing numbers on a ledger, not deciding how many times they would tear open my flesh.

But there was something else in his tone. A hint. A suggestion. A desire to make it worse.

Cain paused only a second, then nodded once. "Two more strokes will be added," he declared.

The finality of his voice struck me harder than the whip ever could.

Twenty-seven lashes.

From the men fate had bound me to.

My vision blurred again, not from unconsciousness this time, but from heartbreak so deep it hollowed me out completely.

There was no escape.

Only pain.

I caught a glimpse of movement at the edge of my dimming vision, Amelia.

She glided forward with practiced grace, her dress swaying lightly around her legs. Even now, even here, she looked untouched by the chaos she orchestrated. She carried beauty like a weapon, delicate and deadly.

Without hesitation, she slipped her arm through Cain's. Her body pressed into his side like she belonged there, like she had always belonged there. She rested her head fondly against his shoulder, smiling sweetly up at him as though this scene, a girl being beaten bloody, was nothing more than entertainment.

"Thank you, Cain," she purred softly, her voice sugared with false concern, "but isn't that a little too much for her?"

For a moment, there was silence.

Cain's body stilled beneath her touch. Then he shifted, turning toward her as though pulled by gravity itself. His hand came up, fingers curving beneath her chin. He gripped her gently, reverently and lifted her face to his.

Their eyes locked.

"She deserves it, Amelia," he said, voice low and unwavering. "You are my queen. No one is permitted to hurt you."

Amelia's lips curved into a small satisfied smile, victory, triumph, possession all hidden in the corners of her expression. She leaned into his touch as if she basked in his devotion, drinking it in like fine wine.

I stared at them, broken, bleeding, bound watching the man fate had tied me to claim someone else as queen, protector, beloved. My heart trembled inside my chest, achingly fragile.

And then...

CRACK!

Pain invaded me before I even registered that Caleb had already stepped forward. The whip collided with my back, tearing open already broken flesh. My scream scraped from my throat, raw and ragged.

He didn't pause.

He didn't allow a breath, a heartbeat, a second for my body to settle. His arm rose and fell, rose and fell, brutal and steady. The sound of leather striking skin echoed like thunder, each blow ripping through me, shattering me anew.

Second, third, fourth stroke.

My vision blurred. I clamped my jaw shut to hold the scream inside, and failed.

Fifth, Sixth.

Every strike sent a fresh wave of agony tearing through my spine, spreading through my limbs like poison.

Seventh, eighth, ninth.

My fingers curled helplessly against the wood beneath me. My head rolled to the side, my tears pooling and dripping down the table. My lungs refused to draw breath for a beat.

At last, Caleb exhaled, satisfied. He tossed the whip from one hand to the other before turning away. Without a word, he handed it to Cypril.

Cypril accepted it eagerly, a twisted smile stretching across his face. He bent down slightly, bringing his face close to mine so I couldn't look away even if I wanted to.

"You should have known better, Melissa." he murmured, his tone venomous despite the softness.

Then he straightened, drawing back his arm, and the leather met my skin once again.

I jerked violently, the restraints digging into my limbs. With each stroke, the pain became something else, beyond human, beyond flesh.The world tilted, spinning as if the ground had fallen away beneath me and my wolf whimpered, unable to rise to my aid. I bit down hard on my tongue to stop myself from screaming, tasting iron.

On the eighth stroke, I wanted unconsciousness to swallow me, but it refused my desperate plea.

Finally-finally-Cypril stopped, breathing hard, as though he were the one laboring through agony.

He tossed the whip carelessly aside.

Then Cain moved.

He loosened his hold on Amelia, just enough and stepped forward. No softness touched his face. No emotion flickered in his eyes. Not love, not anger, not recognition. Just cold duty.

He didn't acknowledge my existence beyond what was required. He lifted the whip, and with the same measured brutality as his brothers, he brought it down. Each strike was efficient, as though whipping me was a chore to complete before dinner.

My body nearly gave out beneath him. My vision flickered, my hearing dimmed, darkness tugging insistently at my consciousness, begging me to let go.

When he delivered the final lash, he paused, chest rising slightly with exertion. Then his voice sliced through the ringing in my ears.

"From henceforth, Melissa is assigned to personally attend to we brothers."

He didn't look at me again.

He wrapped his arm around Amelia, pulling her close, and walked away without sparing me another thought. His brothers followed, three silhouettes disappearing, Amelia tucked proudly within them like a crowned queen.

They left me there, bleeding, breathless, half-broken, tied to a table beneath the fading light.

Dumbstruck.

Heart crushed.

And drowning in pain, both physical and unimaginable.