A hiss split the air. An instant later, blistering agony ripped across my back as boiling water hit my skin.
I screamed, my throat tearing raw. My healing wounds burst open, flesh searing, blood sizzling where it met the heat.
I thought I knew pain before. I hadn’t. Not until now.
And through the agony, one regret echoed over and over.
I regretted following Draven. I regretted loving him. I regretted shielding him that night from his father. I regretted believing every promise he ever whispered.
Because loving him had ruined not just me—but my pack.
Draven watched in silence. His eyes were dark, endless, unreadable. He looked like he wanted to speak, but he stayed silent.
When it ended, he stepped close and draped his cloak over my shoulders.
“Lunessa,” he murmured, voice trembling, “be good. As long as you obey, I’ll treat you well.”
His gentleness was venom.
The world spun. Darkness swept in. I fainted.
***
I woke under a blindingly white healer-sanctum ceiling. The scent of herbs stung my nose. My back burned with every breath, pain sharp enough to steal sound from my throat.
The door slid open.