The Return Of The Rejected Luna

Elara:

The cheers of the pack were a roaring sea threatening to drown me. The pain in my soul was a physical weight, dragging me down into a bottomless, silent abyss. My feet scraped uselessly against the packed earth as two burly warriors hauled me away from the clearing, away from the scene of my execution. I was a piece of trash being taken out.

I risked one last look over my shoulder. Kael stood there, Seraphina pressed against his side, her arm possessively looped through his. He looked like a king, powerful and resolute. His face was a mask of cold granite. He wasn't looking at me. It was as if I had already ceased to exist. That final, invisible cut was the cruelest of all.

"Wait."

The voice was imperious, sharp, and dripping with newfound authority. It was Seraphina.

The guards stopped instantly, their hands still biting into my arms. They turned me to face the clearing. Seraphina detached herself from Kael's side and glided towards me, her silver dress rustling like a snake slithering through dry leaves. The crowd parted for her. She was basking in their adoration, her chin held high, a smug, triumphant smirk on her perfect lips.

"Where are you taking it?" she asked the guards, not even deigning to look at me.

"To the cells, Luna," one of them grunted. "To await the Alpha's judgment in the morning."

Seraphina let out a tinkling, malicious laugh. "The morning? Why wait? The pack is gathered. The moon is full. There is no better time to make an example."

My blood ran cold. A new, sharp fear pierced through the thick fog of my soul-pain. An example?

She finally lowered her gaze to me, her icy eyes filled with a glee that turned my stomach. "This creature," she announced, her voice ringing out for all to hear, "brought shame upon our Alpha. She humiliated him, and by extension, all of us, by being the recipient of a cruel joke by the Goddess."

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. "She's right!" "Insolent Omega!"

"Such an offense cannot be answered by a quiet death in the cells," Seraphina continued, her voice rising with theatrical fervor. "It must be answered publicly. It must be answered with pain. So that every Omega, every low-born, will remember their place for the next hundred years."

She looked directly at Kael's father, Valerius, who stood near the front. He gave a single, sharp nod of approval. His endorsement sealed my fate.

My eyes flew to Kael. He stood unmoving, his jaw clenched, his expression unreadable. I couldn't breathe. He wasn't going to stop this. He was going to stand there and watch. The man my soul had recognized, the man the Goddess had chosen for me, was going to let his new toy punish me for his own sin.

"The whipping post," Seraphina commanded, her voice cracking with excitement. "Ten lashes. From the Alpha's own enforcer."

Gasps went through the crowd. Ten lashes from Gargos, the hulking, brutal warrior in charge of pack discipline, was a potential death sentence. His whip was braided with silver threads, poison to our kind. Even a single lash could leave a permanent scar. Ten could cripple, or kill.

"No," a small, broken sound escaped my lips.

The guards didn't hesitate. They began dragging me towards the thick wooden post at the edge of the ceremonial grounds. My numb legs suddenly found strength. I fought, I twisted, I tried to pull away, but it was useless. They were twice my size.

"Please," I begged, the word tearing from my raw throat. My eyes were locked on Kael. "Alpha, please."

He met my gaze. For a fraction of a second, I saw a flicker of something in his silver eyes, a flash of pain, of conflict. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Stop this, I screamed at him in my mind. Please, you're my mate, stop this!

Then, as if slamming a door shut, his face went blank. He gave a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of his head and turned away, presenting his back to me.

He had made his choice.

The world shattered. The last, fragile thread of hope inside me disintegrated into dust. The guards slammed my body against the rough wood of the post and began tying my wrists with thick leather straps above my head. The rough bark scraped my cheek, the scent of pine and old blood filling my senses.

I could hear the crowd whispering, their excitement a palpable, sickening thing. I could hear Seraphina's soft, satisfied humming. I could hear the heavy, deliberate footsteps of Gargos approaching from behind.

Then I heard the sound that would haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life.

The sharp, whistling crack of the silver-laced whip cutting through the air.