A SERVANT IN THE PACK HOUSE

A harsh, stinging slap landed squarely on Elowen’s face. The sheer force of the impact snapped her head to the side, sending her crashing against the unforgiving stone floor of the dungeon. The jagged rocks scraped against her cheek, but she barely registered the sensation. She curled herself into a tight fetal position, burying her face against her bruised knees. She made no noise. She just lay there on the freezing ground, silently enduring the brutal physical beating from her own father.

"What do you think you are doing? You cause nothing but trouble for this pack!" Beta Varkas roared. His furious shouts echoed off the damp stone walls.

He raised his heavy boot, ready to kick his daughter straight in the ribs. He paused when he noticed she was not bracing for the impact. With a deep frown, Varkas lowered his foot and squatted beside her. He roughly brushed the tangled, dirty hair away from her face.

She was still breathing, but her eyes were dead. Elowen stared blankly into the far distance, her gaze distant and utterly unresponsive to the sharp pain radiating through her jaw. She had simply retreated deep inside her own mind to survive the nightmare.

Varkas grabbed her shoulder and shook her. "Do you hear me? Elowen!"

She did not even flinch. The frown on the Beta’s face deepened into a scowl of pure frustration.

Heavy footsteps echoed down the gloomy corridor. Krovos swaggered into the damp cell, his boots splashing carelessly in the shallow puddles of grim water. He cast a dismissive, cold glance at the battered girl on the floor.

"Alpha Xarion just summoned you to his office." Krovos delivered the message with an arrogant tilt of his head.

Varkas let out a deep, irritated sigh. He pushed himself off the dirty floor, dusting off his expensive trousers. Without a backward glance or a single ounce of hesitation, the Beta turned his back on his blood daughter and marched out of the damp dungeon.

Krovos waited until the heavy footsteps of the Beta faded into the distance. Elowen was left alone with her primary tormentor. He squatted down to her eye level and aggressively gripped her chin. His heavy fingers dug painfully into her bruised skin, forcing her head up to meet a gaze swarming with unadulterated cruelty.

"I told you that I would ruin your life. How dare you run away from your punishment?" Krovos hissed.

Elowen’s dull eyes finally shifted, focusing on the monster in front of her. Her lips were terribly parched and cracked. She forced the words past her bruised throat, her voice coming out as a dry, painful rasp.

"I do not know where my sister is. I have told you this."

Krovos’s eyes flared with blinding rage. "Liar!"

He struck her violently across the face. The backhand was so savage that Elowen heard a sickening crack and genuinely thought he had snapped her neck. She tasted fresh blood welling in her mouth.

A year ago, Krovos’s girlfriend—Elowen’s beautiful stepsister, Lysandra—had fled the territory with her destined mate. She had run away just a single day before their official union ceremony. Krovos had been left standing at the altar, heartbroken, humiliated, and in desperate need of a scapegoat. Elowen was the pack's black sheep. She had also been the unfortunate soul who first discovered the empty bedroom and the missing girl. In Krovos’s twisted, grieving mind, that made her an accomplice. He unjustly blamed her, and the hellish abuse had begun that very day.

Krovos violently grabbed her shirt. The cheap fabric tore with a loud rip as he yanked her upper body off the cold stone. He pulled her so close she could smell the mint and fury on his breath.

"Where is she? You were trying to escape to meet Lysandra, weren't you?" Krovos snarled.

Elowen turned her head and spat a thick glob of metallic blood onto the dungeon floor.

"I do not care about her. I was only trying to escape this hellish abuse. I cannot even heal myself, Krovos. Look at me."

It was a brutal reality. Elowen had not yet awakened her wolf, meaning she possessed zero supernatural healing abilities to mend her battered body. Every cut, every bruise, and every broken bone healed at a painfully slow human rate.

Krovos chuckled derisively. The sound bounced off the stone walls, dark and sadistic.

"Oh, Elowen. You do not know what hell is. What happened to you over the past few days was nothing but the beginning. I will make your life unimaginably miserable unless you reveal her exact location. That is a promise."

He shoved her backward in pure disgust. Elowen’s head bounced lightly against the stone. Krovos stood up and wiped his hands vigorously on his pants, acting as though touching her had contaminated him. He turned on his heel, marching out of the cell. He slammed the heavy iron door shut behind him. The loud clang echoed like a death knell.

Alone in the dark, Elowen closed her eyes. The pain faded into a dull, thumping ache. She welcomed the numbing embrace of unconsciousness, letting the pitch-black void drag her under.

Her dark respite was abruptly and violently shattered.

A bucket of freezing water splashed directly over her fresh injuries. The icy shock hit her nervous system like a lightning bolt, snapping her out of the welcoming darkness. Elowen’s eyes snapped wide open in sheer panic. She gasped desperately for air, her lungs burning as if she were drowning. She scrambled to sit up, shivering violently beneath the single, dim bulb hanging from the ceiling. Water dripped from her matted hair, stinging her open cuts.

Skaris stood over her, casually tossing the empty metal bucket aside. Her stepbrother grinned down at her mockingly. He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes shining with sadistic delight as he relished the visible, raw pain etched onto her face.

"Having a nice dream down here?" Skaris chuckled darkly.

Elowen hugged her knees to her chest, her teeth chattering so hard her jaw ached. She wanted to scream at him, to claw that smug smile right off his face, but she had no strength left.

"Get up. Father wants you in his study immediately." Skaris coldly ordered.

He did not offer a hand. He merely stood there and laughed mockingly as Elowen struggled to get her frozen, bruised limbs to cooperate. She braced her hands against the damp wall, dragging herself up inch by agonizing inch. She knew better than to expect an ounce of pity from the boy who had bullied her relentlessly since the day her father married his mother.

Elowen dragged her battered body up the basement stairs and down the pristine, carpeted hallways of the pack house. Every step was sheer agony, her muscles screaming in protest. She left small, wet footprints in her wake, staining the expensive floorboards. When she finally pushed open the heavy oak doors to the study, she braced herself for another shouting match.

To her profound surprise, Varkas was seated calmly behind his massive mahogany desk. He did not immediately yell. Instead, he looked at Skaris, who was lingering in the doorway with an eager glint in his eye.

"Leave us, Skaris." Varkas commanded sharply.

The sheer authority in the Beta's tone wiped the smirk off his stepson's face. Skaris scowled, turned around, and shut the door firmly behind him.

Varkas shifted his gaze back to Elowen. His eyes swept over her drenched, trembling, and pathetic state. Water pooled at her feet, and her torn shirt clung to her bruised shoulders.

"Why are you wet?" Varkas asked.

It was a simple question, yet it lacked a single ounce of genuine paternal concern. It was merely an observation of a mess on his expensive rug.

Elowen offered absolute silence in return. She stood shivering in the center of the lavish room, her dead eyes locked onto the man who was supposed to be her protector. She had long ago stopped expecting this man to stand up for her. Telling him about Skaris’s cruelty would yield nothing but an accusation that she was lying.

Varkas did not wait for a reply. He clearly did not care for one, nor did he offer any form of comfort. He simply folded his hands on his desk and delivered his cold, calculated verdict.

"Because of the tantrum you threw last night, our pack is now facing serious territorial trouble with the Sanguine Lupis Clan. The Alpha is furious. Your pathetic escape attempt endangered our treaties. This is your punishment. You are officially demoted to a pack servant. From this moment forward, you will cut all ties with this family. You are no longer my daughter."

The absolute betrayal hung in the quiet air of the study. The complete abandonment washed over Elowen, sinking deep into her battered bones.

And then, a sound clawed its way up her bruised throat.

It started as a low, raspy chuckle. It rapidly morphed into a full-blown cackle. Elowen stood dripping on the pristine carpet and laughed like crazy. It was a chilling, broken psychological release. The sound was so entirely unhinged, so violently divorced from sorrow or begging, that it made Varkas furrow his thick brows in deep confusion.