Thhe lash struck Boris with a vicious crack, the sound echoing through the storm-swept yard. As before, Trinity flinched in a sympathetic jolt, her body anticipating the pain. But this time was different. An invasive pressure began to build inside her, a searing sensation that seemed to eat away at her insides. She couldn't name the feeling, but it was suffocating.
"I didn't-"
"He could die! All because he protects you," Alana's voice was a furious gale, cutting through the downpour.
That was all it took. Something inside Trinity snapped. A part of her that had always been there, always dormant, suddenly shifted. The world went black, and her vision swam. She staggered on her feet, fighting for balance as a tidal wave of emotions crashed over her.
The frantic urge to flee and hide warred with a fierce, primal intent to fight, to kill, to rage. To crumble, to fall, to conquer, to kill, to kill, to kill.
"Seventeen."
Alana watched, a cold anticipation in her eyes, as Trinity's body began to shake. The tremors weren't from the cold, but from an internal agony that didn't seem to register on her face. Blood began to seep from her eyes and nose, a thick crimson river. The veins beneath her skin swelled and pulsed, a dark, grotesque network. Her once-black hair, soaking wet from the rain, looked to be lightening just a shade.
Alana hoped this was enough. She had planned for Trinity's shift to come here, to see her finally become a wolf in her true form. But she didn't see the expected signs. There was no ripple of skin, no straining beneath the human shell, no telltale signs of a pup preparing to break free. Instead, Trinity's pores began to exude a fine, bloody sweat, covering her body in a glistening red sheen.
"Twenty-seven."
Alana's cold exterior crumbled, a wave of fear washing over her. What if she'd pushed too far? What if the trigger wasn't enough? She knelt beside Trinity, her hand gently wiping the blood from her eyes. "Don't give up," she whispered, her voice a desperate plea. "He needs you. Fight. Help your father. Are you going to let him die?"
She directed the words at Trinity's long-tormented wolf, hoping the dormant side would hear her, respond, and finally take control.
"Thirty-three."
Trinity's eyes shot open. The world was a blinding, painful blur. Her vision was clouded with a fresh surge of blood and tears as her eyes tried to clear the crimson film.
Everything felt wrong, too sharp, too bright, too loud. The sensory overload was a physical agony.
She could hear everything, every drop of rain, every gust of wind, every single breath. When the count began again, she could hear the air pushing through the speaker's vocal cords, forming the sound as it left his mouth. Every moment of it was a loud, imposing, and provoking assault.
"Forty."
Trinity shoved Alana away with a force that sent her sprawling, then stood up, the gun in her hand still pointing. She hadn't thought to move; her body simply acted. She wanted to speak, but she couldn't. It was as if her body was foreign, a mechanism she no longer knew how to operate. Everything hurt, everything burned, everything was wrong.
She closed her eyes against the rain, the wind, and the brightness, surrendering to the sensory overload. She listened, her ears picking up every single sound until she heard the distinct clatter of the chains on Boris's cuffs. Her mind, a new and different beast, painted a perfect picture: the sound bouncing and echoing off every person, every tree, every blade of grass. With a steady breath, she took the shot. The loud bang made her teeth grit in agony, but she heard it: the clink of metal falling to the stone beneath, the distinct clattering sounds of a broken shackle.
Boris could smell Trinity before he saw her. His mind had been entirely focused on the whip, the way the silver bit into his back, how his body tried to heal only to be ripped open again. But now her scent, a potent mix of blood and fear, was so strong and overwhelming that it broke his concentration. He pulled on the shackles that bound him to the stone pillar. Looking up, he saw Trinity, gun pointed in his direction, her eyes closed, drenched in blood. It was as if her body could no longer contain it. But he couldn't see a wound, only her entire being covered in a crimson sheen.
"Trinity," he called out, his voice filled with a terrible dread. He wasn't worried about being shot by her; he was worried about what would come next and how she would be punished.
He watched her shoot the cuff on his left arm, freeing it with a metallic clang. As she stood with her right arm still bound, Boris desperately begged her, "Trinity, stop. Open your eyes."
The surrounding guards took up arms, then paused when they saw the source of the shot. It was the Beta's daughter, Trinity. Her eyes were closed, her gun was pointed, and she'd already pulled the trigger. The surrounding wolves were shocked she was able to make the shot, but something was terribly wrong. Her blood drenched her body, and she wouldn't open her eyes.
Trinity couldn't make herself open her eyes. The pain was too much.
Alana, crumpled on the ground where Trinity had thrown her, felt the wind leave her body when she slammed into a tree. Getting to her feet, she saw Trinity with the gun pointed at Boris. She had heard the shot go off.
Running toward Trinity, she tried to hold her, to keep her still. But she couldn't. Trinity acted with a brutal finality, slamming the butt of the gun into Alana's temple before kicking her away violently. Still, she wouldn't open her eyes. The gathering warriors wasted no time. They all went on high alert, unable to comprehend how she seemed to be as strong as a wolf, yet covered in blood.
Trinity listened to the footfalls of four wolves as they approached. She didn't know who they were, and she didn't care. She couldn't think about anything. Raising her gun, she took the shot. Two bullets for each wolf in the middle of their stomachs, the silver piercing through their bodies. She could hear the screaming cries of their agony, and she flinched at the sound, a sharp, painful assault on her eardrums.
In that moment of pause, as she tried to rediscover the world, four sets of hands shoved her to the ground. She fought to be released, but another and another joined until she was completely immobilized. Four sets of hands held her firmly against the soaked soil, her face turned to the side as she still refused to open her eyes. Her mouth was open in a silent scream she couldn't form; the sounds in her larynx were unable to be born.
"How the hell is she so strong?
"Where's all the blood coming from?"
"Why won't she open her eyes?"
Boris pulled on his remaining restraint, needing to free himself. "Gibson, open the restraint," he ordered, his eyes never leaving his daughter.
Gibson swallowed hard, wanting to obey his Beta. But his Alpha had given him a direct order, and as much as his loyalty was to Boris, the Alpha was above everyone.
"I can't," he said, his heart heavy with regret. With a stoic look on his face, he turned to Kale, dreading the words that came out of his mouth next. "Continue."
Kale steeled himself, pulling his arm back just as fiercely as before. The whip bit into Boris's skin, the silver-clawed tip ripping the soft flesh. This time, he didn't need another order. The whip's tip slipped past his shoulder, slicing into his back muscles, exposing the sinew and tissue beneath.
Kale felt sick as he watched his Beta. He couldn't see his face, but he could smell his tears. He knew they weren't for the whip or the silver gnawing at his flesh. His true punishment was his daughter, silent on the ground with her eyes squeezed shut, her blood perfuming the air.
"Forty-one, forty-two, forty-three," Gibson called out each number, wishing Kale would go faster, that it would all be over soon.
"I'm just fine. Don't worry, T. Daddy's fine," Boris's voice was low and calm, devoid of his current physical and mental suffering. His world was that girl, fighting to get to him, ready to kill. The sight was heartbreaking but powerful. The Beta's daughter was strong, a fierce fighter, and the knowledge made the other warriors stand straighter, their eyes void of emotion, offering no comfort to the Beta.
"Forty-nine, fifty." Gibson finally finished the count, grateful it was over. Without needing to be told, he rushed to Boris, pulling the shackle open. He didn't even wait for his gloves, suffering the burns of the silver as his fingers ached. He pulled the silver open, allowing Boris to be free.
Gibson and Kale stood side by side on the jade stone, watching as their Beta, the strongest of them, slowly made his way to his daughter. His voice was calm and soothing as he kept speaking to her, giving her words of reassurance.
"Get off," he growled viciously.
The four warriors holding Trinity looked at each other, unsure of what to do. His daughter was lethal. They weren't sure if he would be attacked the second they let go.
They had watched her brutally attack her mother. Whatever was happening, she wasn't in control.
"Off." His words were stern, no longer a request but a Beta's order, forcing their compliance. Their hands instantly left Trinity, who didn't move. She stayed glued to the ground, her breaths coming in quick, uneven gasps.
Coming to her side, Boris brushed her hair out of her face. "Open your eyes, just for a moment."
His command was soft, but no different than what he had commanded the wolves. Her eyes opened, no longer the blue that reminded him of his mother. They were a vibrant, sparkling, unyielding gold. This was her wolf, but not fully. She was emerging, but it had happened wrong. She wasn't a wolf yet. But enough of her senses have been woken up, that she responded to his order.
Boris smiled down at his daughter before placing his hands over her eyes. He understood now why she hadn't opened them, why she had been so out of control. His eyes flickered to Alana with suspicion and anger. She stood just over his shoulder, her eyes shining with a strange happiness, soft tears trickling down her face. He knew they weren't for him. She held her chest as if she could feel something profound, and in that moment he noticed what it was: the bond. Alana could feel the familiar connection, as could Boris. But it was no longer the dull echo it once was; it was strong, vibrant, and alive in a way he had never felt. He pulled Trinity into his arms, holding her to his chest, his blood mixing with his daughter's, leaving a crimson trail.
"Carry these wolves with us. No one speaks of this to anyone!" Boris growled. He wanted to give a direct order, but he knew the Alpha would smell it. If they simply evaded direct questions or left out information, it would be seamless. But a gag order would make the Alpha suspicious, a risk he didn't want to take.
The chorus of the wolves' voices was lost in the rain. "Yes, Beta."
The injured wolves were carried by warriors, all of them entering through the back of the Beta's house. Alana led them to her private office to treat the wolves and ensure they healed quickly.
Trinity pushed herself out of Boris's arms, dropping to the cold marble floor. Lying on her side, her hands over her ears, her eyes tightly closed, her back to everyone. "Please," Boris tried to lift her again, but Trinity pushed him away, hard enough for him to understand she didn't want to be touched. He watched her, a sharp pain filling his chest, but he let her be.
He stood over her, watching as her skin still perspired blood. He noticed how it shimmered, the faintest hint of gold hinting beneath the red mingling with her still-soaked flesh, creating a large, wet puddle around her. The sight clicked something in the back of his brain, a stored knowledge he hadn't used. He just couldn't put his finger on it. But her blood was something. The longer he stood over her, staring at the pooling blood, the more the realization came to him, quick and hard. There was only one reason her blood would be this way.
Alana entered the room to see Boris standing over Trinity, who looked like she was in the fetal position. The wolves who had carried the injured in left through the back door, silence ringing behind them.
Boris wanted to stay with Trinity, but he knew he needed to speak to Alana. "I'll be right back." Grabbing his mate by her forearm, he dragged her after him up to their bedroom, where they hopefully wouldn't be overheard.