Lucien
The hall still thundered with outrage. Wolves howled for blood, their voices blending into a savage chorus that shook the stone walls. Snarls, jeers, the slam of fists against wooden benches- every sound in the chamber cried out for the same thing: vengeance.
Lucien did not silence them immediately. He let the chaos build, let it swell into a fever pitch until the hunger for punishment nearly vibrated in the air. This, too, was power- letting the pack taste the fury of a mob but holding it back, caging it, reminding them all that their rage belonged to him.
Only when the sound reached its highest note did he raise one hand.
Silence fell like a blade.
Every wolf obeyed. Every chest rose and fell with heavy breath, but no voice dared to rise above their Alpha's will.
Lucien's gaze never left Nyra.
She stood chained in the center of the hall, face bloodied from the guard's blow, lips still curved in a mockery of a smile. The words she had spoken, the words that had slashed through years of buried memory, echoed in his mind with venom.
Your guard screamed almost as loud as your father did.
It all came rushing to him at once…a boy beneath floorboards. A mother's whispered promise. A father's last smile. And then the screams.
His jaw tightened until his teeth ached. His wolf snarled, clawing for blood.
But Lucien's control was absolute.
He would not tear her throat out in a fit of rage. That would be too easy. Too merciful.
She wanted chaos. He would give her order. She wanted blood. He would give her fear.
The pack would watch. And they would learn.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Lucien's voice was calm when it came again, though the room could feel the storm beneath it.
"Bring the chains."
Two guards rushed forward, hauling thick iron links from the wall. These were not the restraints Nyra wore now- these were ceremonial, forged for moments of punishment, their weight brutal, their edges cruel.
Nyra's smile flickered for the first time when she saw them.
Lucien stepped closer, close enough that only she could hear the low growl of his words.
"You think yourself untouchable, half-brid." he said. "But today, you will learn what it means to defy me. And they," he tilted his head toward the silent, waiting pack, "will learn as well."
Nyra lifted her chin, defiance gleaming in her eyes. "Do your worst."
He almost laughed. She thought she'd seen his worst.
She hadn't.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The guards moved quickly. They fastened the iron chains to her wrists, the links so heavy her arms sagged under the weight. Another length was wound around her neck like a cruel collar, and when they pulled it taut, the shadows at her feet writhed as if they could strike out against the metal itself.
The wolves in the crowd leaned forward, eager.
Lucien let them. This was theatre, and every theatre needed its audience.
When she was secured, he turned- not to her, but to the pack.
"This creature," he said, voice carrying easily to every corner of the hall, "believes herself above us. She mocks your grief. She mocks your dead. She mocks the blood that runs through every one of your veins."
Growls rose from the benches. Teeth flashed. Fists clenched.
"She dares to speak the names of those she never knew," Lucien continued, his tone sharp as a blade. "My father. My mother. My brother. She taints their memory with her foul tongue. And she kills two of your very own."
He paused, letting the words sink in. Letting the wolves remember the massacre that had marked them all.
"Should I grant her the mercy of death?" he asked.
The chamber erupted. "Kill her!" "Tear her apart!" "End her!"
Lucien lifted his hand again. Silence fell.
"No," he said simply.
Confusion rippled through the crowd. Nyra's lips twitched, the beginnings of another smile.
Lucien let them both have their moment of uncertainty before he spoke again.
"Death is too swift and too kind. She will not be given release. She will be given lesson."
He moved to stand directly before her, eyes boring into hers. "Kneel."
Nyra barked out a laugh. "Ha! You'll have to break me first."
Lucien nodded once to the guards.
They yanked the chains at her neck and wrists. She stumbled forward under the combined weight, crashing to her knees on the stone floor. The clang of iron rang out through the hall.
Her smile faltered again, but only for a heartbeat. Then she bared her teeth at him. "Satisfied?"
Lucien crouched so that only she could hear the next words.
"Not even close."
He rose and addressed the pack again.
"This is what defiance looks like. This is what insolence earns."
He flicked his hand, and the guards brought forth a whip. Not leather, but braided steel tipped with hooks, designed for werewolf flesh- designed to tear, to burn, to scar.
The crowd stilled. This was no execution. This was humiliation, punishment made spectacle.
Lucien took the whip himself.
He did not hand the task to another. He wanted them to see that it was his arm, his will, his judgment.
But the moment his fingers closed around the steel handle, his wolf snarled. Mine. Don't touch her. Don't mark her. The beast slammed against his control, savage with protest.
Lucien's jaw tightened. He shoved the voice down, locking it behind the ice of command. He could not falter in front of all his people.
Nyra's shadows rose again, desperate and frantic. The chains glowed faintly as the metal absorbed their strike, repelling them. She sucked in a sharp breath, but she didn't beg. Didn't plead even though she could sense what was coming.
Good. He wanted her proud. It made the breaking that much sweeter.
He let the whip uncoil in his hand, the steel links clattering against the stone. His wolf clawed at him again, wild and desperate. Stop. Stop.
Lucien's arm rose anyway.
Then, without warning, he struck.
The crack echoed like thunder.
Nyra jerked, her back arching as the steel hooks bit into flesh. Blood welled instantly, dark and vivid against her pale skin.
The pack roared their approval.
Lucien's arm swung again. And again.
Each strike was measured, deliberate, not frenzied. He was not some beast venting fury. He was Alpha, and every lash was a lesson carved into her flesh.
And with every lash, his wolf howled. The bond thrummed like fire in his veins, making his chest ache with each cry she did not give. He ignored it. He crushed it. But he felt it all the same.
By the fifth strike, her breath came ragged. By the seventh, her shadows writhed uselessly on the floor, unable to shield her. By the tenth, blood streaked down her back, staining the stone beneath her knees.
Still, she did not scream.
Her teeth clenched, her jaw locked, her body shook- but no sound escaped her throat.
Lucien's wolf raged, clawing at his insides, demanding he stop, demanding he shield her instead. The conflict twisted through him like barbed wire. He let none of it show, though. His face was carved from stone, his movements steady.
He struck again.
At last, she let out a sound- a hiss, sharp and defiant, more like laughter than pain.
"Is that all?" she rasped, blood dripping from her lips where she'd bitten through.
The pack growled, furious at her insolence. Lucien's wolf demanded he tear her chains away, demanded he end this madness.
But despite all the chaos, Lucien only smiled... cold, ruthless and deadly.
"No," he said softly. "Not even close."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
When he finally stopped, the hall reeked of blood and iron.
Nyra slumped forward, chains rattling, her back a ruin of crimson and torn flesh. Her head hung low, hair matted with sweat.
But when she raised her face, her eyes still burned, hollowed by pain, yet sharp, alive, and unbroken.
The mate bond tugged at Lucien's chest, low and merciless, as if reminding him that every lash he'd dealt to her skin had carved into him as well. His wolf paced beneath his skin, snarling, restless, refusing to quiet.
Lucien stepped closer, close enough that her ragged breaths brushed against him. The bond flared hot between them, a tether he wanted to sever, a tether he could not.
"Understand this," he said, his voice low but carrying enough for every wolf to hear. "You live because I allow it. You breathe because I choose it. You are nothing without my will."
Her lip split when she smiled. Blood streaked her teeth. "You'll have to do a lot more than that to keep me in line... Alpha." She spat the word like it was an insult, "Because, between you and me… I barely felt a scratch."
A ripple passed through the pack- shock, anger- but she only stared at him, daring him to do his worst.
Lucien's jaw clenched. His wolf lunged forward at her words, not in fury but in something far more dangerous. The bond thrummed hard enough to make his chest physically ache... to make his grip on control tremble.
He straightened sharply, shoving it all down.
"Let this be remembered. Not one of you- not a guard, not a soldier, not even an Alpha from another land- will ever forget what happens to those who mock the blood of this pack."
The chamber erupted in approval. Howls, snarls, cheers rose, exalting him, surrendering beneath his dominance.
Lucien raised a hand and silence fell at an instant.
"Take her back to her cell," he commanded. "Let her heal slowly and without any kindness."
The guards obeyed, dragging her limp body across the stone floor. Blood streaked in her wake, a vivid trail of punishment- and defiance.
Lucien's gaze lingered until the door slammed shut behind her.
Only then did the mask crack, for just a second. Not pity. Not regret even. But something much darker... hungrier. Something bound to her no matter how deeply he tried to bury it.
And then it was gone.
The Alpha turned, his face once more carved from stone, and the pack bowed as one.