“Where is my pack?” I ask again. “Just tell me, I’ll go find my omega, and you can live in your kingdom, ruling forever.”
“It’s not enough.”
“I beg your pardon?”
My father looks up. “I forbid you from going to that omega.”
The command lashes around me, forcing my obedience.
“No! What have you done?” I scream at him.
“I’m fixing it.” My father mutters. “Kneel, Khaos.”
My knees bend, and I drop to the ground.
“Fifty lashes,” my father says.
I twist around and spot his guards. Wolves I don’t recognise with hard, uncaring eyes and grim faces.
The first blow surprises me with how much it hurts. My gasp seems to echo around the room. The second I’m ready for. The pain makes me see white. I grit my teeth, trying not to make a sound. Sweat runs down the side of my face. I can’t hold back the cries. I sag, but my father’s command keeps me up.
Finally, it stops. I can barely see; I can barely think. My back is on fire. At least she can’t feel this. I ignore the comfort of my pack, choosing instead to try to focus on my father.
“Take him to the dungeon. Put him in the basement. Let him think about his actions for a couple of days.”
I stare at him in horror. The basement is a cell that’s only big enough for a man to stand. It’s pitch black and is often wet with whatever is seeping through the walls.
“Alpha, please don’t do this,” I plead.
He ignores me.
“Father?” I implore once more.
He just waves me off.
I’m dragged down into the dark. I don’t fight the alphas who take me there; it’s not their fault. They look horrified as they gently push me in and close the door.
“Can you tell Wrath where I am?” I say to them just before they close it.
I don’t hear what they say.
Now, there’s nothing but the dark and me. I have to confront the fact that my alpha is insane. That my father is gone.
In the dark, I cry and rage and scream, but, by the time I’ve calmed down, I know what I have to do. I know what my choice is.
The door swings open, I’m released and fall into Wrath’s arms, almost collapsing because I’m so weak. My wounds healed, but with no food or liquid, every minute has been excruciating.
“Fucking hell, Khaos,” Wrath whispers in horror. “Your back-”
I lick my parched lips. “Water, please. It’s healed. I’m okay.”
Angel appears with a bottle, and they carefully drip-feed me water, supporting my weight like I’m a child or broken.
“Let’s get out of here before anyone finds out we’ve let him out,” Hazard hisses.
“How long has it been?” I whisper through my parched throat.
“Four days,” Hazard bites out. “He’s left you in there for four days with no food and water.”
