Booki Chapter42
“You thought what a strong bloodline we would make, what pups we would have. I remember the shock on your face, Mom, when you found out Rya was mine. The disappointment, a low rank going to take your spot. You couldn’t believe it.” Such skeletons he’s revealing for all these wolves to see. Family business that should not be made public. He’s showing their opinion of low ranks. Murmuring from the audience starts to grumble in outrage.
My head lowers at his words. I never really felt we were of low status. My father was a hard worker, and my mother made sure we were clean, fed, went to school. We never went without…ever. We had a good family until I met my mate.
“Look at her now, Mom! You must have been so surprised when she came back. Not the same little juvenile that left. No, not the same at all.” He’s looking at me now, up and down, his eyes loving what he’s seeing.
“I hope you never get your claws into her. She’s too good for this family.” His mother looks like the inside of a great grandfather clock, gears shifting, turning, switching with her thoughts.
“I’m sorry, Rya. I would never end you. I don’t have it in me. I feel so sorry you have someone like me as your mate. I have failed you, my pack, the moon. I just couldn’t let her g go.”
“He’s squaring up to
woth the Alpha and the Beta.
“I understand what’s going to happen, and I
“You attacked my daughter!” The big beta.elcome it.” His words are spit in his father’s face.
body
out Clayton’s face.
“She threatened Rya. My wolf wanted the threat p
these males‘ eyes turn toward me. I hold them all with mine, not saying a word. What can be
said?
“You know the punishment for attacking another pack member.” The Alpha looks smaller to me now, not as big as he used to be.
“Ido.” He’s resigned to his fate.
The winds starts to pick up. A maroon shadow from the moon falls across Clayton’s face. Turning green eyes my way, he just holds me in my place. It’s as if he’s looking at me like it will be the last time he will ever see me again.
“I’m sorry.” The apology is real, full of deep pain. I say nothing back. He doesn’t look like he expected a response.
“Treat Rya like she deserves. Be good to her.” Hard eyes bored into Dallas.
Stepping up to the third oldest brother, Cash, his jaw is clenching so tight I can hear teeth break. “As soon as she’s well enough, claim her. Take her away from here.” Cash snaps his teeth at Clayton being held back from his brother’s big hands.
“She’s the most beautiful female you will ever meet, and her heart is good. Just please give her a chance. She deserves to be truly happy.” A clawed hand tries to swipe at Clayton’s neck. He would be no match for him. Clayton would eat him.
“Stop.” His mother breathes into his ear, a forceful command no higher than a whisper, and it stills him.
He gives another look to me before he walks toward his end.
The supple, worn leather handle rests easily in his hands. Generations of use have made the brown turn dark, shiny. The silver threading that has been woven into the braid is hundreds of years old, yet it does not fray at the end. The master weaver knew how to construct this to last generations. I wonder if our generation could ever make anything like this again.
The cold is starting to slither from behind, up my back like a snake, slowly creeping higher and higher, wrapping around my neck. I’m not sure I can bear witness to this sight, yet I’m paralyzed, unable to look away.
He’s standing at the same pole where everyone stands. This pole doesn’t recognize status, only pain. Everyone is equal while taking the whip’s mark. His hands are being bound, but not in the flimsy string that would tie a juvenile down. His are locked into place with big metal chains that fasten tight against skin, infused with a high concentration of silver. A full–grown male wolf should know how to behave by now. This is meant to hurt as much as possible.
His forehead rests against the pole, eyes closing. A tear already comes, not from the physical pain that he’s about to endure, but the way his heart must be blowing apart inside himself.
He tilts his head up, and the moon greets his eyes. She sees everything in the night. Dark, dangerous when she has to be, beautiful, loving when her children need her to be. His father approaches him, a hand on his head while speaking soft words into his ear. His shirt is ripped off, his back exposing not pristine flesh untouched, but marked with silver–tipped needles.
Chapter42
