Addison had no idea what kind of punishment awaited her, but she knew she wanted no part of it. She felt that the pain she had endured from the decaying mate bond over the years was already more than enough torture.
If Alpha Zion laid his hands on her, she wasn't sure she'd live to see the next sunrise. Panic surged through her, and she thrashed wildly in desperation, but Zion remained unfazed, his grip unyielding as he steadily ascended the stairs.
He climbed several floors until he reached the fourth, then sent out a pack-wide mind link: "No one is permitted to step onto the fourth floor. Anyone who disobeys this order will be sent to the dungeons and receive 100 lashes."
The warning was enough to freeze everyone in place. Those who had considered following him exchanged uneasy glances, their eyes wide with shock, before hesitantly stepping back.
For a werewolf, being whipped was usually no more than a temporary pain because wounds would heal quickly, and the pain would fade. However, the whip that Alpha Zion mentioned was no ordinary one.
It was crafted from silver-tipped thorns, designed to tear into skin and scrape the flesh with brutal precision. The silver ensured that the wound wouldn't heal easily, and it could leave permanent scars as a grim reminder of the punishment.
A hundred lashes? That was a sentence reserved only for traitors and prisoners, the kind of punishment reserved for the most severe of offenses. The thought of it sent a chill through the pack, and the severity of the threat was enough to make everyone pause, shuddering at the idea of such a brutal fate.
Beta Greg, noticing Claire's intent to follow his alpha up the stairs, immediately grabbed her arm with a firm grip, causing Claire to flinch slightly. "Miss Claire, please," he said, his tone more urgent than usual. "You can't go up. My Alpha gave a direct order that no one is allowed on the fourth floor."
"Anyone who disobeys will face a hundred lashes with the silver whip, and that includes you. I'm sorry, but for your own safety, especially with your condition, you need to rest. Please, let me escort you back to your room."
Beta Greg didn't wait for Claire to respond, her eyes wide with disbelief and her mouth slightly agape. He calmly began guiding her back to her room, gently but firmly, and stationed two warriors outside her door to ensure she wouldn't leave, regardless of what she might hear.
"W-wait, I need to speak with Zion! What if he hurts Luna Addison beyond repair? Isn't she an omega?" Claire's voice trembled with worry as she desperately tried to reason. "Let me talk to him. After all, this mess started with me..."
Beta Greg's contempt for Addison deepened with every word Claire spoke, but he couldn't deny the shift in Claire's demeanor. She was becoming more like a true Luna, compassionate, virtuous, and a light in the otherwise bleak atmosphere of the pack.
However, Claire's words didn't come from a place of pure selflessness. She wasn't truly concerned about Addison. The truth was, she feared the powerful connection between Zion and Addison, the way Zion had reacted to Addison's proposal to dissolve their mate bond, rejecting it with an intensity Claire couldn't ignore.
The disregard Zion showed her earlier, when she had screamed for attention and yet he ignored her, sent a chill down her spine. Claire feared his actions were influenced by the pull of their mate bond, and she didn't want them to mend it. Not after what had transpired.
Right now, Claire has only one goal: to reach Zion, no matter what she has to do. Even if she had to use Addison as an excuse, she was willing to do so, hoping it would make Zion reconsider whatever he was planning.
However, Beta Greg completely misunderstood her intentions. Instead of allowing her any opportunity to intervene, he tightened her security, ensuring she wouldn't be able to set foot on the fourth floor.
He knew his Alpha well; Zion never made empty threats. If he issued a command, he would see it through without fail. Allowing Claire to run around unchecked might enrage him further, and Greg wasn't about to take that risk. More than that, he genuinely didn't want her to get hurt.
Unbeknownst to her, Claire had just shot herself on the foot. In her attempt to manipulate the situation, she had effectively backed herself into a corner—locked away in her room, unable to interfere.
On the fourth floor, as soon as they reached the door, Zion kicked it open with such force that the frame splintered, leaving the door broken. He didn't care. His fury was still simmering, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths as he strode inside. Without hesitation, he threw the flailing Addison onto the bed, his grip unforgiving.
Addison's head struck the headboard with a sharp crack, and she bit her lip to stifle a gasp of pain. Tears welled up in her eyes as a choked cry escaped her.
Seeing her in such a miserable state, Zion stiffened. His instincts overpowered his rage for a brief moment, and without thinking, he reached out to touch the swelling on her head.
But before his fingers could graze her skin, Addison slapped his hand away with all the strength she had left. Her eyes burned with fury, wild and unrestrained, like a lioness whose tail had been mercilessly stepped on.
She was livid, her entire body aching, though she could no longer tell where the pain was coming from. It was everywhere, radiating through her bones, clouding her vision with unshed tears.
"Don't touch me!"
Hearing those words reignited the fire in Zion's eyes. Whatever restraint he had been regaining was gone in an instant.
With swift, unrelenting force, he pinned Addison's wrists above her head with one hand, his grip unyielding.
His other hand clamped down on her flailing left leg, while his knee pressed against her remaining limb, rendering her completely immobile. No matter how hard she tried to struggle, her strength was nothing compared to his.
All she could do was cry—hot, silent tears spilling down her cheeks as she stubbornly turned her face away from him.
"I'll let you go," Zion said, his breath ragged, warm against her skin. "But only if you stop making a scene and accept your place as the Luna of this pack."
Addison's chest heaved, her breath coming in shaky bursts, but she didn't waver. "Why would I? I want out!" she spat, defiance burning in her tear-streaked eyes.
Zion's jaw clenched, his expression darkening. "Addison, don't push your luck."
"No, Alpha Zion, I've had enough," Addison whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "My body and mind can't take this torture anymore. Please… just let me go. Your father wouldn't have wanted this."
"Shut the fuck up!" Zion roared, his voice thundering through the room. His chest rose and fell with barely contained fury. In an instant, his grip shifted—his hand seized her chin, forcing her to meet his furious gaze while his hold on her legs loosened.
"You dare mention my father?" he growled, his fingers tightening. "You know damn well why he died, and yet you have the audacity to say his name in front of me? Before that decaying mate bond claims your life, I might just kill you myself."