Kayla.
"Move!" A guard commanded.
The command cracked through the air a second before the rod did.
The impact landed across my back with a sharp, merciless snap.
Pain exploded outward, hot and vicious, tearing through skin and muscle as though the flesh there had been peeled open. My breath hitched. For a moment, my vision blurred into streaks of white and red. The world tilted.
But I didn't fall.
I couldn't.
Another jerk came from the chains wrapped tightly around my wrists, dragging me forward before my knees had the chance to buckle. The metal links scraped against each other with a cruel, grinding sound, and the rough edges bit deeper into my skin. I tasted iron at the back of my throat, blood, though I didn't know if it was from my lip or the wounds carving into my hands.
My feet stumbled over uneven ground. Gravel pressed through the thin soles of my shoes. Every step sent a tremor up my spine, straight into the welt forming across my back.
"Pathetic human, you are testing my patience!" the guard in front snarled.
He didn't look back at me when he spoke. He didn't need to. The contempt in his voice was enough.
He yanked the chain harder.
The sudden force nearly tore my shoulders from their sockets. The metal tightened viciously around my wrists, slicing into flesh already raw from the earlier blows. I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out. I refused to give them that satisfaction.
The pace quickened.
I was no longer walking, I was being dragged, forced to keep up or be pulled along like a sack of discarded meat. The guards flanking me laughed under their breath, amused by my struggle, entertained by my pain.
I lifted my head despite the weight pulling me down.
That was when I saw it.
Towering gates stood ahead, dark wood reinforced with iron. And carved into the arch above it, deep and unmistakable, were the words:
MOONBRIDGE.
The letters were jagged, deliberate, as if someone had carved them with pride. Or a warning.
So this was it.
The Wolf clan.
The air itself felt different here, thicker, charged with something feral and watchful. I could feel eyes on me, even if I couldn't see them yet. I could almost sense the unspoken hierarchy pressing down like an invisible hand.
From the few lessons I had managed to receive in school, I knew enough.
A Pack.
Ruled by an Alpha.
A structure built on strength. On dominance. On obedience.
My lip curled faintly despite the pain throbbing through me.
I couldn't wait to see this so-called Alpha, not because I was interested, not because I was afraid, but because…..
Another sharp pull on the chain cut the thought short. I squeezed my eyes shut as the memory surged forward anyway, uninvited and relentless.
It all happened a few days ago.
"Run, Kayla."
My mother's voice broke on my name as she yanked the back door open, the hinges creaking in protest. Cold night air rushed in, sharp and unfamiliar, brushing against my damp cheeks.
The banging from the front door shook the entire house, each pound sounded like thunder splitting wood in half.
My heart couldn't keep up with it. It skipped, stuttered, slammed painfully against my ribs as if it wanted to break free before they did. The walls trembled, dust fell from the ceiling in tiny, helpless showers.
"Don't look back! I beg you."
Tears streamed down her face, glistening in the dim kitchen light. I had never seen my mother cry like that, not when money was tight, not when neighbors whispered, not even when Dad fell sick two years ago.
But now she looked terrified.
"No, Mom!" I shook my head violently. "You and Dad have to come with me." My fingers tightened around her sleeve as if I could anchor her to me. "You said we would celebrate my eighteenth birthday in a few days. You promised. You can't go back on your promise."
Even as I spoke, another crash thundered from the front of the house. Wood splintered. Something heavy slammed against the door.
"Kayla!" she cried, desperation cracking her voice. Her hands gripped my shoulders, then pushed me backward toward the open doorway. "Go!"
I stumbled.
She shut the door instantly, the sound of it clicking into place felt like a final goodbye, then…a scream, sharp and sudden, cut off too quickly.
It was hers.
My body moved before my mind could stop it. I ran to the corner of the window, crouching beneath it, barely daring to rise. My hands trembled as I lifted myself just enough to see through the glass.
A wolf guard stood inside our living room.
His uniform was dark, his posture towering, merciless. In his hand was an iron rod, thick, cold and unforgiving.
And then I saw it.
He swung it.
The rod struck my mother's head with a sickening sound.
She collapsed instantly.
"Mom!"
The scream tore from my throat before I could stop it. I clamped my hand over my mouth, but it was too late. Tears streamed down my cheeks so fast I could barely see.
My legs wouldn't move.
I couldn't breathe.
My father rushed forward, falling to his knees beside her. His hands shook violently as he lifted her head. Blood flowed from her scalp, dark and endless, soaking into his palms.
"Where is your daughter?" the guard thundered.
The authority in his voice filled the house, filled my ears, filled my skull until it hurt.
"I already told you," my father replied, his voice breaking though he tried to steady it. "We don't have a daughter!"
His hands were drenched now, red and slippery. He kept pressing them against the wound as if he could force life back into her body.
"The list cannot be wrong!" the guard barked, turning slightly to glance at the other guard standing beside him.
List?
What list?
The iron rod lifted again, and something inside me snapped.
"Spare my dad, please!" I screamed through the window, stumbling to my feet. "I am the one you want!"
I thought speaking up would stop it, I thought surrendering would save him, but I was wrong.
The rod came down anyway.
It struck my father's head.
He collapsed instantly, falling beside my mother, his body lifeless and still.
"No oooh!"
The sound that left my mouth didn't even feel human. My knees hit the ground with a loud thud. Pain shot upward, but I didn't feel it. Nothing compared to the horror in front of me.
Both of them.
On the floor.
Not moving.
"Grab her! We are taking her," the same guard ordered.
Heavy footsteps approached. The back door burst open behind me.
I didn't fight.
I didn't scream again.
The world had already ended.
Strong hands seized me, rough and unyielding. The last thing I saw was the pool of blood spreading across the floor beneath my parents' bodies.
Then everything went dark.
Darkness swallowed me whole.