The Innocent Traitor: Dying for the Alpha's Sin

Ericka POV:

I was dragged back to the attic, but they didn't leave me there. Two omega maids, loyal to Hailie, hauled me toward the communal bathrooms.

"Hailie says you smell like a Rogue," one of them sneered. "Says we need to disinfect you before you're locked up again."

"Please," I begged, my legs dragging on the floor. "I'm sick. I need a doctor."

"Shut up, traitor."

They shoved me into the tiled room. A tub was filled with ice-cold water. But it wasn't just water. The liquid had a shimmering, metallic sheen to it.

My blood ran cold. Liquid Silver.

Silver is fatal to wolves. It burns our skin like acid. Even though I had lost my wolf spirit, my biology was still that of a werewolf. My DNA reacted to silver just the same.

"Get in," the maid ordered.

"No! It will kill me!" I screamed, trying to scramble backward.

They didn't listen. They grabbed my arms and forced me into the tub.

"AHHHH!"

The scream tore from my throat as the water touched my skin. It felt like a thousand hot irons branding me at once. The silver seeped into my pores, attacking the already crumbling remnants of my vitality.

I thrashed, splashing the toxic water everywhere, but they held me down.

"Stop! Please! It burns!"

The door opened. Through the steam and my tears, I saw Caleb standing there.

For a second-just a split second-I saw horror in his eyes as he took in my blistering red skin. He took a step forward, his hand reaching out as if to pull me from the torture.

"Alpha," Fitz's voice came from behind him. My brother stepped into view. "Don't fall for it. It's theatrical makeup. She put dye in the water to make it look like silver, and now she's screaming to make you feel guilty. It's classic Rogue manipulation."

Caleb stopped. He flared his nostrils, but the heavy metallic scent of the silver was masked by the lavender bath salts the maids had dumped in. His expression hardened instantly. The mask of the ruthless Alpha slid back into place.

"She is filthy," Caleb said, his voice void of emotion, refusing to look closely at the burns forming on my arms. "Make sure she is scrubbed clean. I don't want the scent of betrayal lingering in my pack house."

He turned on his heel and walked away.

"Caleb!" I screamed his name, but it turned into a gurgle as one of the maids pushed my head under the water.

Darkness swarmed my vision. The burning sensation went from my skin to my bones. He saw me suffering. He saw me dying. And he walked away.

They pulled me up just before I drowned, gasping and retching. My skin was red and blistering, steam rising from my body not from heat, but from the chemical reaction.

"Clean enough," the maid spat.

They dragged me back to my room and threw me onto the mattress. I lay there, shivering uncontrollably, the silver poison working its way deeper into my heart.

I realized then that the bond I felt, the love I had held onto for five years, was a lie. To him, I wasn't a mate. I wasn't even a person. I was just dirt that needed to be washed away.