He's seething, snarling mad. I think he's trying to restrain himself from actually severely harming me.
The pack looks to us in disbelief, their eyes wide... fearful. I just hit their Alpha in front of the entire pack and visiting pack members. Shivering, knowing I went too far. He has no choice but to deliver the Alpha's justice on me.
The wind picking up blowing my hair around my head, creating a chill in my bones.
"Meela, I've told you never to embarrass me again. But you don't listen, you don't take me seriously." His voice is unsteady with suppressed rage. "Thomas, get the whip."
Hearing gasps, my own heartbeat speeding up. He can't do that. I've seen my mother whip a female before, so I understand its deadly intent. The great disrespect I've shown him has to be answered. All packs have a whip just for these serious kinds of infractions if the Alpha doesn't just tear out your throat of life.
"Brother." Thomas is beside the northerner, whispering to him.
"I said, get the whip!" It was an order, a yelled out demand. "You need to be taught respect, Meela. Your behavior is not tolerated here. Your insolence is like cancer, it'll start spreading until everyone no longer respects me. It has to be stopped. This will be a reminder to you and everyone else not to defy me." Grabbing my arm, he drags me back to the pole which I was chained to for so many months.
I try pulling myself away, digging my heels into the ground. "Don't do this, Northerner."
"Don't tell me what to do!" His breath hits my face in a rush of hot fury.
"Kneel, Meela!" Yanking on my arm hard, bringing me to my knees.
Taking the chain that's attached to the pole, he wraps my wrists tight around the wood, so my arms are hugging the thick old wood that has been pounded into the ground.
The silver binding my wrists is hot against my skin, preventing me from changing into my fighting form.
A deep fear has set in, shaking my body. He can smell it on me.
The Northerner crouches to reach my ear and whispers, "You should be scared."
As I look around at the pack members, I see sympathy and disbelief in their eyes. Staring at the whip that Thomas thrusts into the northerner's hand. Its silver thread contrasts with the old worn blood stained leather. He shakes his head in disgust, and after throwing me a pitying look, he walks away from us, holding Sophie tight by his side.
Looking to Sophie as tears stream down her cheek, and she clutches Thomas tight to her. He's trying to protect her from the sight she will see.
Feeling the material of my shirt rip open, the tearing of the fabric mimics my heart.
"Meela, this is to teach you to think before you act. Let this be a hard lesson to everyone here, mate or not. No one defies me!"
He's looking everyone in the eyes, challenging anyone to speak up. No one does. The silence is eerie. Only the wind rustling the now dead brown leaves on the ground can be heard.
I hear the sharp crack of the whip before it hits my bare skin, the feel of it sends a shocking pain to down to my toes, that holds my breath in lungs that refuse to breathe for a moment.
"You will learn to listen."
The cracking sound hits my ears before the biting sting of the silver burns my flesh. I shake with the force of the blow. Clenching my jaw tight, refusing to make a sound. It's the stubbornness in me that makes me defiant to the very end.
Pulling my wrist against the silver as much as they will allow, I try to angle my body so my back doesn't take the full brunt of the blow. Instead, the tip curls around my abdomen, cutting into the soft flesh. The oozing hot blood trickles down my hips, down my legs, creating a small growing puddle underneath my knees.
"You will learn your place." His voice hard like the stone of his heart.
The swish through the air alerts me of what's to come. Bracing myself, but nothing can prepare me for the searing hot burn cutting into my skin. The grunt slips out without my control.
The heat of him crouching by me feels soothing in the worst way, whispering in my ear, "I won't be made a fool of in front of my own pack."
I feel his body leave mine as a hair-raising crack fills the air. The pain is so intense, my fingers stretch out into the air and another grunt escapes me. Withering against my restraints, trying to shield myself from the pain. Another crack and this time the lash curls around my chest, digging deep into flesh. Vision is blurring with the tears that are falling.
The Northerner comes to me again and strokes my hair. "All you have to say is, I'm sorry Alpha Grey, and it all ends. Your choice, Meela. Say it and I'll stop."
A fierce gust of wind makes the forest sound like it's groaning in the horror of what nature is witnessing. As I look up, I see that even the clouds seem to be fleeing from the sight below them. I'm looking into the faces of the pack members... my new pack members. They remain motionless and pale. No one will come to my aid.
Pressing my forehead against the wood, I close my eyes, sealing myself and I clasp my hands together, leaning against the pole for support. I take a big breath, knowing what's to come.
Crack... The familiar sound results in cutting tissue pain, then another crack with the biting silver burn. They come in quick succession, one after another. Too fast for me to take a breath, too fast for me to recover from the pain. I let the first muffled cry leave my lips. The bloody puddle is growing at a faster pace.
"Meela, say it!" The rage is leaving the Northerner's voice. It's a subtle shift, barely detectable, but I can tell.
It's being replaced by a plea.
None of us are willing to stand down.
He has no choice but to continue until I say those words, and I have no choice but to endure.
Strike after strike rain down on my back. It's getting harder and harder not to scream out my anguish. Instead, loud grunts slip between my locked jaw. The skin on my back has opened up. Every now and then I try to turn my body only to have the whip cut deep into my sides to my belly button.
"Meela... Enough! Say it!" His voice holds an edge of panic and desperation.
My silence forces him to continue. A lightness, a dizziness swarms my head.
I hear the whoosh of blood in my ears, the light seems dimmer, not as bright. I'm getting tired, it's getting harder to stay in a kneeling position. Swaying to the side only to feel the razor cut of the whip. It brings me back for a moment only for me to lean to the other side and fade back out again.
"Meela." His voice is shaky, like the way my legs feel. Slowly sliding my body down, so my chest is resting on my thighs. I turn my head to the side, letting it rest on the ground in the puddle of my own blood. My arms are still stretched out in front of me, bound at the wrist.
The Northerner must have thought he could give me a few lashes and I would heel up to him, tuck tail, once again bowing to his will. He didn't expect this. He wasn't expecting my stubbornness, my will. Somehow I've turned this into a punishment for him. With every moan of pain, he groans out himself, before every sting of the whip, he pleads with me to just say those words.
Laying there with my breathing becoming shallow. Darkness overtakes my vision and a calmness comes over my body. I can still feel the sting of the whip, but it doesn't cut as much, the burn is only mild. His pleas are muffled like he's standing a long distance away. There are no more tears.
They went away with my sight.
The sound of a soothing voice is calling my name luring me to away from this world of pain. Something in that voice makes a memory spark in my mind.
"Meela." It's such a beautiful sing-song voice from my childhood. I should know this voice, I just can't place it.
"Meela, open your eyes."
Smiling as I look into golden-yellow eyes, the same eyes as mine. "Mother," I breath out.