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Willow s breath came in shallow pants, waiting for Corbin s next move. After Hector s
announcement of her eminent death, the prodigal son quickly removed her chains and carried her
outside to a grass circle. The layout of stones reminded her somewhat of the Pack circle in the
Redwood den. The pulsating magic of centuries of tradition she felt within the other circle calmed
her. This one, however, held a sickly and fearful bitter after taste that made her skin crawl.
Her head lulling to the side, she blinked then stared down at the field below her. They had
chained her to a wooden table in the center of the circle and angled it so she could see her
surroundings. A blessing or a curse, she didn t know. The ground beneath her held a rusty hue, rather
than the natural chestnut and tawny soil on the outskirts of the circle. Bile tried to worm its way up
her throat as she tried to suppress the thoughts about what might have caused the dirty crimson
overlay.
Another difference was, unlike the Redwood s circle, other than the three men corralling her, no
others were present to bear witness to her torture. Her shame. Resigned to her fate, she prayed for
quick death. Contrary to the Central s beliefs, Jasper wouldn t come for her. He d told her he didn t
want her, and she d left. With every sneer and cruel promise from Hector and Corbin, Willow lost
just a little bit more of who she was and what hope she could have held. A sense of loss and
confusion enveloped her. No one would save her not even herself.
Corbin s hand struck Willow s face. Hard. Pain shot through her cheek and jaw, as her eyes
watered. She screamed, her voice breaking as she choked. She tried to squirm away, but the chains bit
into her skin. After what seemed like hours, though it could only have been minutes from what Willow
knew, Hector gave Corbin permission to begin his fun. She d never thought she would miss the
demented Alpha s crushing blows and slaps, but his son s ruthless and menacing smirk while he
yielded his own punishment seeped into her soul and chipped away at her sanity. A fast end would
surely be coming soon, right?
Hector stood in the center of the circle with an odd smile on his face. The demon, Caym, stood
off to the side, also with a smile on his face. Though she could barely see it, as he continually looked
off in the distance, his gaze on the outskirts of the circle. Like he waited for something, or someone, to
come and interrupt their play at any moment. Her head hurt, and her thoughts had jumbled together.
She closed her eyes, not aware of the others anymore.
The night had long since faded into the daylight hours. The cloudy overcast sky cast a sepia tone
over the field, resembling an old picture. She tried to imagine she was just an observer, not a
participant in this nightmare. A cool breeze brushed her skin, as Willow tried to forget where she was
and focus on something else. Something more pleasant then the grueling pain inflicted by a lunatic
werewolves. Colorful, yet dead leaves fell to the ground in a gust of wind. Wasn t it an odd twist of
fate that as leaves poetically withered and died their very essence would help create the pure beauty
and elegance of the flora to come in the future? Would that happen to her when Corbin finally grew
tired of his games? No, that wouldn t happen. She was just a human. A dying one.
Willow, you aren t paying attention. Corbin s voice grated on her already frayed nerves, his
anger oozing out in each syllable.
Corbin slapped her again. It hurt, yet the numbness from a constant attack settled over her. Ah,
sweet release.
The light glistened on the tip of a knife he pulled out of his tool kit. Yes, the man actually had a
tool kit for these special occasions. God help her. Her heart beat in a staccato pattern in her ear as he
leaned over her body and smiled.
White, hot pain flashed in her side as he cut a shallow slice in her abdomen. He did it twice
more as she screamed and cried. Corbin laughed and licked her blood from the knife. He moved his
arms and the tip of his knife rested on her cheek. Willow froze in fear.
I m going to show that bastard pup you belong to me, if only for a little while. With a flick of
his wrist, he dug the blade into her cheek. Salty tears pooled and down her face, mingling with her
warm blood on her wind-cooled skin. If by some miraculous reason she survived this, she knew that
final cut would scar her face for life.
Corbin stood, raising the knife above his head, and she flinched. He abruptly stopped lowering
his arm. Instead of stabbing her, he threw back his head and laughed.
Oh thank you for your fear. I relish in it.
He moved again, thrusting the knife toward her. She closed her eyes, ready for death.
The dull thunk of the blade embedding into the wooden table filled her ears.
Fucker keeps playing games.
He took her chin in his hand and forced her gaze to the knife buried to the hilt.
That could have been you, my sweet. But I have been kind thus far. Corbin grinned with
hooded eyes. Not anymore.
Oh God.
He leaned over her head and strapped it to the table at an odd angle. I won t bite you. No, you
don t deserve the blessed gift that comes of my bite. But I will show you what it is like to marvel in
the presence of a true wolf.
You will never become a wolf. I will leave you here to die. And Jasper will come to find your
rotting corpse. Too late to find the one he loved and lost.
Jasper won t come for me. Her voice sounded rusty. She prayed Jasper would be safe from
this tyrannical kingdom.
Corbin slapped her again and his palm connected with her cut. Though it stung a bit, she
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