Chapter 1

Kamrynn

"I’m not sure which hurts more—his hands or his words. Every time he touches me, it’s another reminder of how far I’ve fallen… and how much he despises me."

The bedroom is cold, dark, and suffocating. Calvin’s room. No. The Alpha's bedroom. His territory. I’m on my back, staring at the ceiling, willing my mind to drift somewhere else—anywhere but here—while Calvin rams into me, his movements harsh and punishing. He doesn’t care about my pain. He never has. He’s lost in his hatred, every thrust a reminder that to him, I am nothing but a tool for his vengeance.

His breath is hot on my neck, ragged and full of anger. My body lies limp beneath him, taking it, just like I always do. His hand tightens around my throat, and I know what’s coming before he even says it.

“Look at me, you filthy slut.” His voice is ice cold, full of disgust. “Don’t you dare try to escape in your head. You’re not going anywhere.”

He slaps me hard across the face. The sharp sting pulls me back to reality, the bitter taste of blood filling my mouth. I’d gotten too good at pretending not to be here, at drifting back to a time when things were… better.

We were so young back then. Back when Sherelle, Calvin, and I were just children, running through the fields behind the packhouse. Calvin would always laugh as he tried to catch me, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight. He was my best friend. Back then, I loved him, even before I understood what love was.

His grip tightens around my throat, snapping me back again. His hips move faster, more brutal, and I bite down on my lip until I taste blood to keep from crying out. My tears would only fuel his anger.

"Murderer," he snarled, slamming deeper into me. "Jealous, disgusting whore. You took her life for this!" He motioned to himself with an angry gesture, his body trembling with rage. "For my dick, is that it? Did you think you’d take her place? Did you think killing her would make me love you?”

I freeze. The mention of her always makes it worse. The rage in his voice deepens, and his fingers dig painfully into my skin.

“Don’t act innocent, bitch.” He pulls out of me, roughly tossing me aside like I’m nothing more than trash. I gasp, the sudden emptiness only a momentary relief before he yanks me by the hair, dragging me off the bed and throwing me to the ground. “You deserve this. Every. Single. Thing.”

My body hits the floor with a hard thud, and the next moment, his boot slams into my ribs. I cough, tasting blood, but I don’t move. There’s no point. It only encourages him.

“You think you’re above punishment?” he spits, pacing around me, his eyes blazing with fury. “You think you can kill my mate and my heir and walk away? You think I’d let you forget?”

"I didn’t—" I choke out, barely able to speak.

Another kick, this time to my stomach. I double over in pain, clutching my abdomen as nausea overtakes me. I try to curl into myself, instinctively protecting the parts of me that haven’t been broken yet, but Calvin’s hands grab my arms, pulling me up so I’m on my knees in front of him.

"You don’t get to speak, bitch. Not after what you’ve done."

His fist crashes into my face, and I feel the crack of bone. My vision blurs with pain, but it’s nothing compared to what I’ve been through before. This isn’t the first time he’s broken me.

"I should’ve killed you the moment I saw what you did to her," he sneers, lifting me by the hair. “But no. I’ll make you pay for the rest of your life.”

His words pierced deeper than any of his blows. Tears welled up, but I bit them back. Crying only made it worse. He hated when I cried.

"I’ll make your life hell until the day you die," he snarled into my ear, each word laced with venom. "You’ll never know peace, not after what you did to me, to Sherelle, to my unborn child."

He throws me back to the ground and shoves into me again, his nails biting into my skin as his body takes me roughly. The pain is overwhelming, crashing over me like waves, drowning me in its intensity. His promises blurred into the background as darkness edged my vision, the world around me fading as my mind drifted away…

***

We were children. Back then, everything was easy. Calvin was my best friend, always ready to take my hand and pull me into his world of adventures. He’d smile that brilliant smile of his, and I’d follow him wherever he led.

I had loved him for as long as I could remember. But that love shattered the day I confessed, when he told me he didn’t feel the same. And then, not even an hour later, he found out my twin sister, Sherelle, was his mate. I had smiled through the pain, wishing them both happiness, but my heart had crumbled that day.

They’d looked perfect together. Calvin and Sherelle, the golden couple of the Pack. I forced myself to be happy for them. Forced myself to move on. But the day it all ended would haunt me forever.

***

It had been a normal day. I remember that much. The sun was out, and the air was warm, a perfect day for a walk with Sherelle. She was glowing, five months pregnant, and we were joking about how she could barely see her feet anymore.

“You’re going to be such a mom,” I teased her, smiling.

Sherelle laughed, that laugh that could light up a room. “I’ll take it as a compliment, little sis.”

That moment felt peaceful. It almost made me forget the weight of my broken heart. Sherelle had everything I wanted: Calvin’s love, their unborn child, the future I once dreamed of. But I pushed those thoughts aside, as I always did. I wanted to be happy for her. I was happy for her.

Until everything went to hell.

The guard who accompanied us had left us for a moment, called away by something happening at the Pack’s borders. We didn’t think much of it. It was just the two of us in the woods, walking slowly as Sherelle talked about names for the baby. That’s when it happened.

The masked figure appeared out of nowhere, moving faster than either of us could react. I barely had time to scream before something hit me hard in the back of the head. Darkness swallowed me whole, pulling me under.

When I woke, the air was thick with the stench of blood.

I sat up, dizzy, my head throbbing. The forest was eerily silent, and then I saw it. Sherelle.

Her body lay crumpled on the ground, drenched in blood. Her throat had been torn open, her face mutilated beyond recognition. The sight of her belly, slashed wide open, was the worst. It was as if the life inside her had been stolen before it had a chance to live. There was a bloody knife beside her body.

My mind went blank. The horror of the scene consumed me, and all I could do was scream. My voice echoed through the trees, but no one came. No one except the guard, who returned only to accuse me of the unthinkable.

“You did this!” he shouted, pointing his spear. “I saw you! You murdered her!”

His words didn’t make sense. I hadn’t done anything. But the blood on my hands, the horror on my face—nothing I said would convince him otherwise.

I was thrown into the dungeon not long after, confused, terrified. The news of Sherelle’s death spread quickly, but then something even worse happened: her body disappeared. Along with it, the guard who had testified against me died under mysterious circumstances. They said I was responsible. They said I killed him to cover up my crime. All the evidence was against me. The knife that had been used to murder Sherelle was full of my fingerprints.

That’s when Calvin came to see me.

I’ll never forget the look in his eyes—pure hatred.

“You killed her,” he said, his voice cold. “You killed my mate, and now you’ve taken her body too.”

“I didn’t—” I tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.

“You murdered my child. You murdered the guard. And now you’re going to pay for everything you’ve done.”

And pay I did. Tortured, beaten, burnt, lacerated and pumped full of wolfsbane until I lost my wolf. Three months of agony. Three months of wondering if death would finally come for me. I had almost forgotten what it was like to be alive.

Then Calvin came to me one night, a monster in the shape of a man. His boot slammed into my ribs, waking me from my broken sleep.

“You took everything from me,” he whispered, his voice so cold, it made my blood freeze. “Sherelle. My child. You’ll replace what you’ve taken. You will give me a new heir.”

He declared it that night, and since then, I’ve been his toy—his slave, his punching bag, his prisoner.