Capture (Book 1 in the Wolfen Brethren Series)

Punishing Post

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Her small frame strode outside with the air of a queen, her gait straight and her back sturdy. Her head was held high as her curly locks flew around her shoulders. The mass of hair whipping around her face in the chilled air. Still she strode on.

Climbing down the steps she headed for that fateful punishing post. The cataclysmic post of doom. Her horror story with Khan had started there when she had caught sight of his flickering hazel eyes she had known she was in trouble. His eyes had gleamed red for a short second and in that moment she had seen her salvation and also her demise. When she had woken to him she had almost been lost in his feral attraction and beastly energy but the charm of Khan had quickly worn off.

Gliding across the courtyard her feet treaded on the soft grass. The groomed edges smooth against her sandal clad feet. She could see people in the distance a whole crowed of eager wolves with many more trailing outside from the hall. They were silent

As she got closer the heavy beating of drums began a steady thump. The hum of the rhythm singing to her soul. The noise an ethereal connection to her inner being. Leaving any harboured thoughts of jealousy and envy flowing from her mind until she felt free. Free and ready to face the stage.

In that moment of transcendence one thing became clear. Khan would never strike her ever again. The silver of the poles gleamed into the night like a beacon. The daunting post groaned in waiting for a body and yet Neema knew it was not for her. she did not know how she could be so sure but that moment when her heart beat in sync with drums she had gained clarity.

The crowd parted for her, their bodies shuffling to the side to create a path for her to follow. A path that led to Khan. As they divided she caught sight of that white haired male, the same one who had administered her lashings, doubling them. Her step faltered as she glowered up at him, her body buzzing with her suppressed fury. Khan really knew how to hit her where it hurt, and looking at this white haired male hurt. He stood in the same spot as he did those many weeks ago. His old wiry frame leant along the wooden podium as his beady eyes followed the trail of her footsteps.

Khan stood beside him. His chest bared in all its glory. The dark brown of his skin luring her in. He could always cause lustful thoughts to arise from Neema, even when she held nothing but hatred for him he still lured her with his exotic ruggedness. 

His strong jaw was clenched tight. The small muscle along his cheek ticking with angst. His full bottom lip was straightened into a flat line and his nose flared. His face was stoic, no emotion shone from his face. His eyes leaked with mirth, the situation must be funny to him. Maybe if Neema was on the stage with him and not standing in the front row she could see the hilarity of the situation. As it was not the case she could not smile.

"This woman has been trialled for treason and has been found guilty. She tried to put her unborn child's parentage on that of our alpha. Dared to claim his seed"

Neema was all for punishing people for doing wrong but this woman was pregnant. There was no way she could stand by and allow these wolves to bear down on her skin when she carried a child in her womb. She did not understand how they could stand by and allow it. As she opened her mouth to speak up the white haired mans next words had her reeling in shock.

"The child in which she never carried. It was a lie, a rise to lure this Alpha into her sneaky grasps. For that she will receive 30 lashes laced with wolfsbane to slow the healing and banishment from all packs, including rogue factions."

The heavy baritone of it carried a heavily veiled threat as did his cold and calculating eyes as he assessed Neema. The Shuffling behind her caused a wild tendril of fear to flame in her heart. The fire was put out before it could even light at the sight of the woman being dragged to the stage.