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Chapter 7

The days that followed were a special kind of hell.

After putting those two idiot guards in their place, the beta Lucas saw to it that I was moved to slightly better holding quarters. The new cell was cleaner at least, with an actual cot and chamberpot instead of filthy rags on the floor.

Not that my accommodations were the real problem. No, my current torment was of a more insidious, psychological nature. All carefully orchestrated by that sadistic alpha bastard Karl.

It started with the females. A rotation of she-wolves would pay me regular "visits" throughout the day and night. At first, it was just snide comments and condescending looks as they brought my meager meals.

"Look at the fallen princess, stuffed in a cage just like the untamed beast she is," one sneered as she shoved a tray of slop through the bars.

I remained impassive, refusing to rise to the obvious baiting. My time would come when I could confront these Lycan mutts on more equal footing. For now, stoic silence was the smarter option.

When they realized the petty taunts weren't provoking me, the she-wolves adjusted tactics. Let's just say their words became increasingly crude, vile, and graphic in nature. Vicious insults and mockery about my looks, my status as a "stray mutt" and even my body were hurled in increasingly vicious barrages.

All things I'd honestly heard before in the harsh life of an alpha female, of course. But there was a malicious gleefulness in the way these Lycans went about it, clearly taking wicked delight in trying to make me squirm.

I stood firm, glaring at them in utter silence and detachment. My cold mask never slipped, not giving them an inch of satisfaction that their pathetic attempts to wound me were working.

Potty-mouthed bitches like them could never cut as deeply as the real betrayals and losses I'd already endured.

After the verbal onslaughts began losing their edge, the vile games evolved further. Suddenly, my confined space would be invaded by multiple, jeering she-wolves in varying states of undress. They would lounge about vulgarly or "play" in exaggerated, indecent displays.

Food would be withheld for days, then brought in with extra "toppings" like ashes or animal feces as mocking garnishes. My bedding would be soiled with blood and other bodily fluids when I awoke each morning.

The vulgarity and depravity reached new lows, but still, the unflappable Ice Princess that I was refused them any satisfaction at breaking my calm exterior poise.

Yet even through the relentless onslaught, I could feel my resolve slowly chipping away bit by bit.

For every upturned nose and sneering look, I outwardly deflected, a small part of me withered just a little more inside. With each malicious taunt, I had to choke back a reaction to carve another nick in my armor of self-control.

I could take insults about myself all day and night. The real kill shots were the hissed accusations about my former pack, my wayward sister, or especially my shattered mating. Those dredged up the same hot-iron feelings of shame, failure, and loss that I'd fled the Dynamite territory to escape in the first place.

There was only so much a wolf could take before their spirit began cracking around the edges, no matter how steely their defenses.

And that cunning sadist Karl knew it, of course. He wasn't having me tormented at random.

This was all a meticulously calculated, choreographed campaign. Every crude remark, every demeaning display, it was all part of his twisted serial methods to try to demolish me from the inside out.

"Tell me, Princess," a mocking female voice purred through the bars as I huddled on my dirty cot. "How does it feel knowing your own father chose that little slut of a sister over you to lead? Probably because she knows how to use that mouth for more than pointless snarling like you."

I flinched, gritting my teeth against the desire to launch myself at the she-wolf and rip out her lying throat. She was deliberately probing the still raw wound of my humiliation at being disinherited and betrayed.

And like the cowardly jackal she was, the bitch saw my barely-perceptible crack in the armor and instantly went for the fresh blood in the water.

"That's it, isn't it?" she taunted in sickly-sweet tones. "The great Lexi Adawolf, so high and mighty, was just a failure not even her own daddy could love. Had to settle for adopt-"

A vicious snarl ripped from my throat, cutting her off. My nails raked the stone floor, scoring deep grooves into the surface. If not for the steel bars separating us, there's no telling what I might have done in that blinding red-hot surge of rage.

Realizing she'd successfully struck a disabling nerve at last, the she-wolf slunk back with a satisfied smirk. Her job for now was done. Soon enough, another would come to pick away at my fracturing psyche like a savage picking meat off carrion.

Blood pounded in my ears, drowning out everything but the burning ache in my very soul. I curled in on myself, fighting for control against the raging hurricane of emotion that demanded to be freed.

I was coming dangerously close to breaking. And succumbing to the darker paths one strayed when overtaken by anguish and isolation.

It would have been so easy in that moment to simply surrender. To stop fighting the merciless psychological torture and howl out the waves of anger, shame, and self-pity clamoring for release.

My former self would have sneered at such a lack of willpower, but that felt like another life ago. Here and now, I was painfully raw and adrift in a storm of suffering.

"Alpha, please! Can you not see what your actions are doing to her?"

The familiar voice of the kind beta Lucas intruded on my hazy, feverish thoughts. From my peripheral vision, I could see him standing outside my cell, arms folded across his broad chest in an unusually stern posture.

Every so often, the loyal wolf would witness some particularly egregious torment inflicted on me. To his credit, he hardly ever overtly showed it but his scent would bristle with suppressed outrage and disapproval for his unforgiving leader's cruelty.

This time though, he was openly scowling at the figure who strode arrogantly down the dungeon hallway. His mere presence carried with it an oppressive, dominating aura that demanded respect - or else.

"Of course, I see, Lucas," Alpha Karl drawled, his tone coolly dismissive. "The whole point is to thoroughly subjugate and break her defiant spirit until she submits to me fully."

He halted before my cell, his pale eyes flickering over my curled form dispassionately. There was only the barest hint of intent in those chilling orbs, like a predator idly pondering how best to rend its prey apart.

"She is the enemy who invaded my territory without leave," he continued, uncaring or perhaps reveling in my reaction to his harsh words. "Did you expect me to treat her as an honored guest in my home? In my pack?"

Lucas frowned deeply, shaking his head slowly. "No, of course not alpha. But she has clearly been through a traumatic ordeal already before ending up in our midst. Showing some mercy and-"

"Mercy?" Karl cut him off with a bark of dark laughter. "Why should I show a shred of mercy to one who has earned none from me?"

He stalked closer to the bars, his shadow looming over me as I fought not to cringe under the weight of his scorn. "Look at her, always so proud and arrogant. I merely wish to administer some...humbling instruction to puncture that inflated ego of hers."

Karl crouched then, his face appearing between the gaps in the bars. He stared at me in a way that made my hackles rise, inspecting me like a bug pinned to aoard under his scrutiny.

"Break her pride, strip her of all that foolish defiance," he mused aloud, his voice dropping to a chilling hiss. "And then let's see what's left of the great Lexi Adawolf."

With that ominous pronouncement, he stood and made to leave without another word to Lucas. I could see the beta's disapproving frown and smell the sour note of objection in his scent.

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