The Public Humiliation

POV Elowen.

The hollow ache in my core had barely faded into a dull, relentless throb by the time morning light crept through my window. I hadn't slept at all. My body still hummed with the denied climax from last night, my muscles tight and aching for a release that never came. Killian had left me burning, but as the hours ticked by, the heavy fog of lust had burned away, leaving behind a razor-sharp anger. He thought his little game of sexual dominance would bring me to heel. He was wrong.

A loud, abrupt knock on my bedroom door shattered the morning quiet.

I dragged myself off the ruined sheets, grabbing the nearest oversized shirt to throw over my tired frame. I marched across the room and pulled the heavy wooden door open. Beta Mitchell stood in the hallway. The brown-haired man looked way too cheerful for the early hour, and there was an irritating glint in his eyes that set my teeth on edge.

"What do you want?" I asked, my tone short and clipping the words off with zero interest in pleasantries.

"Good morning, Elowen. I am Beta Mitchell," he stated, offering a polite smile. I knew exactly who he was, but I sure as hell didn't recognize him as my beta.

"I asked what you want," I repeated, crossing my arms over my chest.

His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Alpha asked me to train you."

I stared at him, my brows pulling together in a hard frown. Train me? I was already a lethal warrior. I had spent years honing my combat skills through brutal, unforgiving conditions. I could take care of myself and didn't need some patronizing beta treating me like a helpless pup who didn't know how to throw a punch.

"For what?" I demanded.

"Get ready. Training starts now. Meet me in the training room," he commanded, turning his back as if the conversation was over. As if he could just waltz up to my door and hand down orders.

"Tell your Alpha to come get me himself!" I snapped. I grabbed the heavy door and slammed it right in his face. The loud crack of wood hitting the frame sent a brief, satisfying thrill through my chest.

I paced away from the door, my bare feet padding against the cold floorboards. Why was he trying to get under my skin? Why couldn't Killian just leave me alone and pretend I didn't exist in this godforsaken pack? I sat down on the edge of the mattress, my stomach twisting into nervous knots.

*What do you think you are doing?* Killian’s intrusive, booming voice echoed inside my skull, bypassing my ears altogether. The sheer force of his telepathic tone made my head ring.

*What does it look like?* I shot back through the mind-link, keeping my mental walls fortified.

*Get dressed and meet Mitchell in the training room now!* His heavy alpha tone pressed against my mind, a physical weight meant to force my body into blind compliance. I gritted my teeth against the pressure, digging my heels in. I was skilled at battling mental compulsion, a harsh necessity where I came from.

*Unless he is going to screw me, then he has nothing to teach me,* I retorted, my mind-voice dripping with pure venom.

A heavy, suffocating silence followed. He didn't answer. I savored that quiet, taking it as a personal victory. I reached for the breakfast tray left on my dresser, grabbing a small cup of yogurt. I was just about to take a bite, rewarding myself for winning the standoff, when the solid metal door lock shattered into a dozen jagged pieces.

The wood splintered, and the door flew open, hitting the inner wall with a deafening crash.

My instincts took over before my brain could process the threat. I dropped into a low, defensive fighting stance on the floor. My claws elongated, biting into my palms, and a vicious growl tore its way up my throat. I bared my teeth, ready to strike whatever came through that threshold—until I recognized the massive frame filling the doorway.

Killian.

The dark depths of his eyes burned with pure rage. He crossed the room in two long strides, grabbing me by the shoulders before I could dodge. He pinned my body hard against the cold wall. The breath rushed out of my lungs on impact. I was terrified, my pulse hammering a frantic rhythm against my throat, but I refused to yield to his dominance. I forced myself to find my inner courage, staring right back into his furious gaze.

"How long do you want to keep disrespecting me!" he demanded, his grip like iron bands around my arms.

I swallowed the lump of fear. "When I tell you to do something, you should do it!" he added, his voice vibrating through my chest.

"I am not a submissive slave that you can order around," I retorted, shoving back against his solid chest, though he didn't budge an inch. "As much as I hate to say this, I am legally your wife. I should be treated as your luna. But you have decided to disrespect me and degrade me to nothing. I am not a recognized part of your pack, so I do not need to train with them."

Killian scoffed, stepping back just enough to release his crushing grip. He ran a hand through his dark hair, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "You must be a joke, Elowen Vance. Everyone here can defend themselves. Everyone except you. I do not need a weak liability around me."

My blood boiled at the insult. "I didn't need any of your people to help put down the rogue that attacked me the other night."

"Exactly. You almost died putting down just one rogue," he mocked, waving a hand to dismiss my bloody survival as an insignificant struggle.

I stepped right back into his personal space, tilting my chin up to look him dead in the eyes. "If you did your investigation as a proper Alpha should, you would have known it wasn't just any rogue. It was a massive Alpha wolf that had gone rogue. I was blindsided, yet I survived it. Don't mess with me, Alpha Killian. I am nothing like my cowardly father."

His jaw ticked. The heavy Alpha authority dropped from his posture, replaced by a cold, hard stare. "Get dressed and go to training," he told me.

"Like I said, Alpha," I stubbornly repeated my sarcastic remark, "unless Mitchell is going to be giving me some screwing lessons, I am not interested."

I turned my back to him and lazily sat down at the very foot of my bed, crossing my arms over my chest.

Without saying another word, Killian closed the distance. Before I could blink, he leaned down, scooped me up, and threw me over his broad shoulder. The sudden movement knocked the wind out of me. I knew kicking and screaming would be useless against his sheer physical strength. He was a mountain of muscle. Fighting him would only exhaust me. So, I relaxed my limbs and clamped my mouth shut, enduring the humiliating, bumpy ride down the long corridors.

He carried me all the way across the pack compound, pushing through a set of heavy double doors. The noise of sparring bodies and shouting voices instantly hit me. We were in a massive, crowded training hall. The moment Killian stepped inside with me slung over his shoulder, the entire room went dead silent. Dozens of pack members turned to stare.

He dumped me onto my feet in the center of the matted floor, stepping back to leave me exposed before his staring pack. My cheeks burned with heat.

"Elowen Vance feels she is too skilled to train with us!" Killian announced, his voice carrying to every corner of the vast hall.

I glared at him, a sharp pang of betrayal slicing through my chest. Our argument had been private. He was broadcasting my defiance to humiliate me in front of his people.

"What do you think we should do about this proud wolf?" he challenged the silent crowd. No one dared to speak a word. They just watched with wide eyes. "Very well. Alaric and Soren."

He called forward two dangerous-looking men. They stepped out of the crowd. Both were heavily muscled, towering figures with brutal battle scars etched into their skin.

"Shift and teach this arrogant wolf a lesson," Killian ordered them. He stepped back, removing himself from the ring to watch the violence unfold. "Show no mercy!"

Loud gasps rippled through the assembled pack. Several onlookers muttered in shock. Two massive, seasoned warriors against one outsider. It was a brutal orchestration designed to break my pride.

Inside my mind, my wolf Lumina woke up. She wasn't scared. She was furious. A deep, blood-curdling growl tore from my throat, raw and unrestrained. My sharp claws pushed through my nail beds, scraping against the hard floor. My canine teeth elongated, cutting into my bottom lip.

Killian wanted to treat us like despised outsiders? Fine. We would fight like outsiders. I was deeply hurt, physically and emotionally exhausted, but I wasn't going to give him the twisted satisfaction of seeing my spirit break. I intended to take out every ounce of my burning anger on his loyal men. He asked for no mercy. I would reciprocate.

Lumina growled fiercely. The sound reverberated through my chest as the two large men flanked me, one on my left and one on my right. Their eyes flashed a brilliant, lethal yellow as their inner wolves surfaced. Bones cracked and reformed. They shifted flawlessly into massive beasts. They bared their wide, dripping jaws, dug their paws in, and leaped directly at my throat.