Her mouth was too dry to answer. She knew the rules: do not make noise, do not struggle, do not give them the satisfaction of fear. But her body remembered every time before, every lesson the pack had taught her about the place of traitors' bloodlines.
In the Blackwood Pack and other packs, at most, unmated wolves who had not found their mates were expected to remain virgins. If a wolf was impure before finding their mate, their mate had the right to reject them and could even sentence them to death.
But this law mostly applied to she-wolves. Nobody really cared about the male wolves; everyone punished the she-wolves for being defiled before awakening. And now, it looked like she was going to be one of the scorned she-wolves who had lost their purity before awakening. It was all written in their lewd gazes.
"Please," she managed, but the word was useless.
The two other guards closed in behind him, grinning like dogs scenting blood. She kept moving backward until there was nowhere else to move. Her heart raced in her chest, and tears welled in her eyes. Seraphina had set her up like this. She knew Seraphina hated her for what the war had taken from her, but she had never imagined she wanted to ruin her.
Jarek snatched her wrist, twisting until her bones ground. "You are the reason Vaughn is dead," he hissed, his voice shaking with something between grief and hate.
She swallowed a gasp. How long did they plan to punish her for those people's deaths? Her only sin had been surviving the attack by rogues that night.
"Let go," she whispered, trying to pull back, but his hand was an iron clamp on her wrist.
"You think you are special?" Jarek sneered. "Alpha Knox killed Vaughn, Pieter, and Beck because of you. Maybe if you had joined their little party as a good little wolf, none of them would have been lost. Now, you will pay."
The two men behind her laughed, their laughter like shattering glass. Jarek shoved her back against the nearest stall.
"Maybe it is time someone took what your brother cost us," Jarek said, and then his hand was at her throat, the other fumbling at her waist.
She fought. She tried. Her nails caught his cheek, and he cursed, but it only made them more eager. One of the others grabbed her arms, pinning them behind her back, and the third held her legs as Jarek ripped her shirt open.
"I was taken by those bloodsuckers before my awakening," Jarek snarled. "I fûcking lost my mate to them. You think you are better than us?" Jarek spat. "Would it not be fitting," he said, 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 gouged her back as they forced her down. She screamed, or tried to, but the sound was muffled by a hand and then by something worse. Jarek knelt between her legs, undoing his belt. His skin shone with sweat and hatred. She stopped struggling and shut her eyes, tears sliding down her temples. There was no need to struggle. Maybe she deserved all the punishment for being Elias's sister. When these people saw her, all they saw was their pain and everything they had lost.
She felt Jarek's shaft nudging her entrance. "We will have you in turns, bïtch," Jarek snarled in her face as he spread her legs wider.
"Lyra! Where are you, girl?"
Madam Maggie's voice rang out in the stable, and Jarek went still. The relief that crashed over her made her body tremble and her sobs intensify. Maggie's voice had never sounded so soothing. Jarek was still on top of her, and for a second, she thought he would just do it anyway, finish what he had started, but the others hesitated.
"Jarek, we will be beheaded if we are caught," one of the guards said. "She has not gotten her wolf yet."
Jarek grunted, hastily tucked himself in, and glared down at her. "This is not over," he growled. "Make sure you come back to the stables after your Harrowing, and we will enjoy that ripe body of yours."
She did not answer. She only sat up slowly, pulling her dress over her shoulders, still shaking. Her breath would not come evenly. Her heart pounded so hard it hurt.
"And, Lady Thorne, failure to come back here, I will strangle you. Am I clear?" Jarek threatened.
She nodded.
"Good," he said and turned to the others. "If anyone asks, we were checking the horses."
Maggie appeared at the stall door, her eyes taking in everything—the torn shirt, the blood at her neck, the hay stuck in her hair, her tear-streaked face, and the men standing awkwardly. She said nothing about it. She never did.
She ignored Jarek and the others' presence. "Alpha Knox requires your presence immediately. Come now."
She recognized the lie. She knew Maggie did not care about her welfare; she was simply doing her job. Still, she scrambled to her feet, her legs shaking so badly she nearly fell. But she pulled herself together because the other option was to fall apart. She followed her back through the winding halls, her steps uneven, her body sore. She did not speak. Neither did Maggie. But she was grateful to be away from the stables, and her heart still pounded wildly in her chest.
When they returned to the main arena, the ritual was about to begin. The moon was almost at its zenith. She took her place at the edge of the gathering, her body still trembling from the assault. Marina Frost, the Moon Priestess, stood at the center of the ritual circle. Her face was painted with the sacred blue, her silvered hair wound tight and crowned with bone. The pack fell silent as she raised her arms, and her voice was low, almost inaudible, as she intoned the old words, calling down the goddess, inviting her to witness, to judge, and to bind.
The triplet Alphas stood at the cardinal points; Alpha Kade stood north, Alpha Knox west, and Alpha Kalem east, each one of them like a pillar holding up the world.
As the moon reached the zenith, Marina completed the final words of the ritual. "Let the bonds be made," Marina said, her voice suddenly everywhere—inside her head, vibrating her bones.
The light came all at once, like a silver spear from the moon. Where the light landed, it forked, and every wolf in the room was caught in it. It engulfed different wolves, connecting them to their mates in thin glowing threads. Gasps rose as wolves staggered into each other's arms, some crying, some laughing. The howls of those meeting their wolves for the first time filled the air, as they shifted into their wolf forms.
Then the light hit her like a blow to the chest, so hard her knees buckled, and she tasted blood. But something strange happened. Her bond divided into three. One snapped toward the north—Alpha Kade. Another to the west—Alpha Knox. And the third slammed into her core with bone-deep force to the east—Alpha Kalem. Silver threads stretched from her chest to all three Alpha triplets, glowing bright for everyone to see.
The Blood Moon had chosen her. And she was doomed.