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.

Melissa.

Bella's hands were firm but gentle as she supported me along the corridor. Each step was agony, each movement sending shocks of pain through my already battered body. My legs wobbled beneath me, trembling like they might give out at any moment. I leaned heavily into her, trusting the strength of my wolf to keep me upright, to guide me forward when my body refused to obey.

"Sorry, Melissa." Bella's voice was soft, laced with genuine sorrow. Her brow furrowed as she glanced down at my bruised and bloodied form. "I wish I could help you. Those jerks of an Alpha are clearly useless. Who the hell beats their mate?"

Her words made my chest tighten even more. She didn't understand, not fully, but she felt the raw injustice of it. I wanted to tell her it wasn't her fault, that none of this was, but my voice barely came out, dry and weak.

"Ssshhhhhh!" I hissed, gripping her arm lightly to make her lean in closer. "They might hear you." My heart raced at the thought of someone overhearing. If anyone reported her concern, if someone thought she was conspiring against the Alphas, I couldn't bear to imagine what would happen to her. I wouldn't survive seeing her suffer the same cruelty.

She nodded quickly, lowering her voice as we continued forward, her fingers tightening around my arm in support. I could feel her worry radiating through every small motion, and it gave me a tiny, fragile comfort in the midst of all the chaos and pain.

When we reached my room, I collapsed onto the bed with a thud that made the mattress groan beneath me. My body was a map of pain, every muscle tight, every nerve alive with memories of the whips and the humiliation. My back burned like fire, raw and throbbing, and my limbs felt like lead. I had survived, but barely.

Bella didn't hesitate. She set to work immediately, moving to my side with an ease that came from practice and care. Her hands glided over my shoulders, massaging gently at first, then more firmly as she tried to ease the knots and tension. She pulled a small jar of balm from her bag, rubbing it between her hands before pressing it against the raw tears in my flesh.

The sting hit instantly, sharp and biting, a cruel reminder of the punishment my body had endured. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, tears streaming freely despite my effort. "It... it hurts," I murmured, though my voice was hollow and strained.

"I know," Bella whispered, leaning close as if her own presence could shield me. "I know it hurts, but this will help. I promise."

I closed my eyes against the pain, letting her hands soothe where I could. My wolf shifted restlessly inside me, her anger and confusion mingling with mine, but even she seemed to relax slightly under Bella's care.

We hadn't even gone halfway through the treatment when a soft knock sounded at the door. A maid stepped in, bowing slightly as she spoke.

"Ma'am Melissa, Alpha Cain asked you to come to his room immediately."

The words froze me in place. My chest constricted, and my heart skipped a beat. Now what? I thought. I could barely stand, barely breathe without wincing. And now Cain wanted me, again.

The maid lingered for a moment, looking uncertain, before she retreated quietly. I had no choice. I couldn't stay, couldn't avoid it, no matter how terrified I felt. Pain and exhaustion weighed on me like stones, but I forced myself up. Each step toward the door was agony, each movement a battle against my broken body.

Leaning heavily on Bella, I managed to stand, the sting of balm mixing with the ache of my muscles, the raw tenderness of my back screaming with each motion. My wolf, restless and protective, moved within me, guiding my steps even as my body threatened to betray me entirely.

I drew in a shaky breath, glancing briefly at Bella. She gave me a small, encouraging nod, and I nodded back weakly, steeling myself. Then, with what little strength I could muster, I left my room and headed toward Cain's, each step heavier than the last, each one filled with fear and dread at what awaited me.

I pushed the door open carefully, putting my head down despite the aching pain in my back. "Alpha Cain, you called for me."

The first thing I noticed was the sound, a soft giggle, followed by the low murmurs of a girl's voice. My eyes looked up for just a few seconds, and what I saw stopped me in my tracks.

Amelia was there, tangled in Cain's arms on the bed, her silky robe slipping off one shoulder, his shirt was open, his muscular chest on full display, as he leaned into her, his lips brushing her neck.

I swallowed hard, my eyes darted back to the floor, waiting for him to acknowledge my presence and state his reasons for calling me.

"Look up!" He commanded.

I slowly looked up and what I saw next was the wildly intimate moment between them, he kissed Amelia deeply and even moaned in between the kisses before pulling away. Amelia straddling his lap, her fingers tangled lazily in his hair as she trailed kisses down the side of his neck. Their soft giggles and breathy whispers filled the space, mocking, taunting, crushing the air right out of my lungs.

The fuck, did he call me here just to watch him get intimate with my sister?

My stomach twisted violently, my throat thickening until breathing hurt. I tried,goddess, I tried to keep a blank expression. To pretend I didn't care, to pretend the sight didn't slice straight through my soul like a blade. But the pain in my chest surged up like a force I could no longer contain. I felt tears burn hot at the corner of my eyes, then spill freely before I could blink them away.

My heart dropped to the floor.

I jerked my head aside, desperate and pathetic, to hide my humiliation. I wiped at my cheeks quickly, angrily, scrubbing away the tears, hoping he had been too distracted to notice.

I was too late.

Cain's eyes snapped toward me.

His entire posture changed. He tossed Amelia aside carelessly like she was nothing more than a discarded coat and sprang to his feet. His steps thundered across the room, closing the distance between us in seconds.

His fingers gripped my chin harshly, forcing my head up so I could look directly into his storm-dark eyes. Dread rooted itself deep inside me, cold and suffocating, paralyzing me where I stood. The cruel smirk curling at the corner of his lips only made it worse.

"Are you aware where you belong now?" he asked slowly, savoring each word like poison honey. He sounded pleased, satisfied with himself, satisfied with my pain.

I couldn't speak. My throat was dry, choked, locked with shame and fear and something far worse, betrayal.

His thumb brushed the wet trail along my cheek. At first the touch was strangely gentle, almost tender but that illusion shattered when his expression twisted. He lifted the dampness on his fingers and, with malicious delight, licked my tears off his skin.

My stomach clenched. Disgust and terror swirled together inside me.

"I am not done with you yet, Melissa," he murmured, his voice low and venom-sweet. "I will make you wish you weren't chosen by the Moon Goddess."

Pain-humiliation-anger-none of it mattered. I stood frozen, held in place by his grip on my chin and the cruel promise in his eyes.

Then, with a shove, not enough to throw me down, but enough to remind me how little control I had, he pushed me back.

His voice thundered across the room like a command from hell itself.

"GET. OUT."

My knees threatened to buckle, but instinct took over. I turned and fled before my tears betrayed me again, before my heart cracked open any wider, before the Moon Goddess could watch me fall apart.