The blood ran down Marcus's body in thin rivulets, pooling on the floor beneath his feet in a spreading crimson puddle. He'd stopped trying to beg, stopped trying to speak at all. The only sounds he made now were raw, animal screams that seemed to tear themselves from his throat without any conscious thought.
When Vale stepped back, his knife dripping red, I moved forward.
"Look at me," I commanded, and something in my voice made Marcus's eyes snap open, made his head lift despitethe agony consuming him. My voice carried the weight of centuries, the absolute authority of a pack leader. "I want you to understand something. I want you to truly comprehend it, in whatever remains of your mind."
I leaned in close, close enough that my breath ghosted across his blood-streaked face, close enough to see every burst blood vessel in his eyes, every tear track cutting through the grime on his cheeks.
"You are going to die tonight," I said quietly, my voice soft but absolute. "That is certain. There is nothing you can say, nothing you can offer, nothing you can do that will change that. But before you die, I want you to know why. I want you to understand, with perfect clarity, exactly what brought you to this moment."
I straightened, looking down at the broken creature hanging from the chains, at the ruin we had made of him.
"You saw an omega girl and you saw profit. You looked at a person—a living, breathing, feeling person—and you saw nothing but gold. You bought her from her own parents, and you were going to sell her to the highest bidder, and you never once thought of her as anything more than merchandise."
My claws extended—even in human form, I could manage that much—and I drew them slowly down his chest, opening four parallel wounds that welled with dark blood. Marcus screamed again, the sound raw and broken.
"But she wasn't merchandise. She was ours. Our mate. Our pack. Our everything." My voice dropped to a whisper, cold and absolute. "You tried to take her from us. For that, Marcus, there is no punishment severe enough."
I stepped back, letting Thane move forward.
Gentle Thane, who healed instead of harmed, who soothed instead of struck. But tonight, his gentle hands held no comfort.His amber eyes burned with cold fire, and his gentle features had hardened into something unrecognizable.
"I'm going to keep you alive," Thane said quietly, his voice flat and merciless in a way I'd never heard from him. "Every time you get close to dying, I'm going to pull you back. I'm going to make sure you feel every moment of what's coming. Every second of pain."
Marcus's eyes went wide with fresh horror as he understood. Not just torture, but prolonged torture. No escape into unconsciousness, no relief of death. His mouth worked soundlessly, trying to form words that wouldn't come.
"No," he finally managed, his voice a broken rasp. "No, please, just kill me. Please, just end it?—"
"You can endure more than you think," Riven said, moving forward again, his claws fully extended, gleaming in the lamplight. His scarred face was split in a terrible smile. "You will. For as long as we decide."
What followed was beyond anything Marcus could have imagined.
Riven worked on him with claws and fists, breaking bones and tearing flesh, while Thane hovered nearby, using his gift to keep Marcus alive, conscious, present for every moment. Vale continued his precise cuts, opening new wounds whenever the old ones threatened to close, keeping the blood flowing, the pain fresh.
Hours passed. Marcus's screams faded to whimpers, his whimpers to wet, gurgling moans. His body was a ruin—broken and bleeding and barely recognizable. But thanks to Thane's gift, he was still alive. Still conscious. Still aware.
Through it all, Lily watched. She stood apart from us, her arms crossed, her dark eyes fixed on the man who had bought her like property. She didn't participate—didn't strike a single blow, didn't draw a single drop of blood. But she watched,bearing witness to every moment, and she didn't look away. Her face was calm, composed, showing nothing but cold satisfaction.
Finally, she stepped forward. She stood before the wreckage of the man who had bought her, looking down at him with satisfaction and disgust. Her shadow fell across his ruined body.
"Do you understand now?" she asked softly, her voice almost gentle. "Do you finally understand what you did? The suffering you caused, the lives you destroyed?"
Marcus's eyes—the only part of him still intact—rolled toward her. His mouth moved, but only a wet, bubbling wheeze emerged, blood frothing on his lips.
"I'll take that as a yes." Lily turned to Riven, her expression final. "End it." Riven nodded once, his golden eyes solemn despite the savagery of the past hours. He moved to stand before Marcus, studying the wreckage they had made.
"Any last words?" he asked Marcus, though it was clear the man was beyond speech, beyond thought. No response. Just that wet, gurgling wheeze, growing weaker with each passing moment.
"I didn't think so." Riven's voice was quiet, almost gentle. Riven's hand shot out, claws extended, and tore through Marcus's throat. Blood sprayed across the walls, across the floor, across Riven's face and chest. Marcus's body convulsed once, twice, and then went still.
It was over.
We stood in silence, looking at what remained of Marcus—the merchant, the supplier, the monster who had built a fortune on suffering.
"The auction network," I said finally, my voice cutting through the heavy silence. "We need to destroy it all."
"Already done." Vale's voice was tired but satisfied, and he wiped his bloody hands on his ruined clothes. "I foundhis ledgers. Names, dates, transactions. I memorized what we needed and burned the rest."
"The omegas?" Lily asked, her voice soft with concern. "The ones in the cages?"
