When their hands tore at my clothes,panic surged through me.
“Stop!” I cried, my voice breaking.
“I am the Luna! If you don’t believe me,go ask the Alpha yourselves!”
They didn’t even slow.Claws ripped fabric.Hands struck my face.
“You’re still lying?” one of them snarled.
“You really won’t shut your mouth until you see a grave!”
My cheek throbbed.
Warm blood slid down my chin.
My hair fell loose, tangled across my shoulders.
My body was half exposed.Pain.Humiliation.
Cold air against my skin.
Lyra clicked her tongue, amused.
“That hair is annoying,” she said.“Get rid of it.”
A servant stepped forward with shears.
I didn’t even resist.
Because I no longer cared about my hair.Or my pride.
I only curled tighter around my stomach,my arms wrapping instinctively over the life inside.
The life he had smiled at.
The life he had dreamed aloud about —how he’d train him to hunt,how he’d carry him on his shoulders,how he’d tell the pack this child would be stronger than any Alpha before him.
A few seconds later,I felt the weight disappear from my head.
Strands of my hair fell scattered on the stone.
The only thing I had used to cover my torn body was gone.
Lyra burst out laughing.