One of the guards raised his hand, ready to strike me. Just before the blow could land, Adeline’s voice cut through the tension, dripping with artificial concern. “Alpha, she’s still my sister. Men can be too harsh—I wouldn’t want them to hurt her.”
Ronan turned to her, his expression betraying the slightest hint of approval.
“If she truly needs to be punished,” Adeline continued, her voice sickly sweet, “then let me do it myself.”
Ronan made no attempt to intervene. A cruel smirk played on Adeline’s lips as she lifted her hand and struck me twice, her nails slicing into my cheek and leaving behind searing pain and thin rivulets of blood. Turning to Ronan, she feigned distress, her voice laced with insincere concern. “Alpha, what should we do? I’ve harmed Anastasia.”
Ronan merely scoffed, unimpressed by her act. “She brought this upon herself, Adeline. You’re too softhearted, worrying about her when she was the one who hurt you first.”
The guards loosened their grip, and I crumpled to the floor, my body aching from both the blows and the impact. As I lifted my gaze to meet Ronan’s, fury burned in my eyes. His next words, however, sent a fresh wave of outrage crashing over me.