The Deaf Luna: Marked By My Destroyer

Cane cut straight to the point. He had no time to waste.

It had only been a week since he'd taken out the old Alpha of the Blue Moon Pack and captured his children. Now, he had to consolidate his authority. There was still much to settle: sanctions to enforce, rules to rewrite, order to impose.

Hanna raised her head slightly.

"Iris...?"

She hesitated, her voice barely a whisper, as if she'd misheard. But when she met Cane's icy gaze, her own dropped at once.

"I don't like repeating myself."

"Yes... yes, Alpha..."

Hanna drew a shuddering breath, then began to speak. She had known Iris since they were children. She doubted she could tell the Alpha anything he didn't already know, but she spoke anyway.

"Please... Alpha Cane... don't hurt her..." Her voice trembled. "She isn't like her father."

Hanna was only a low-ranking she-wolf. She knew all too well what Cane's pack had suffered under the old Alpha. She knew they had been treated like slaves. But Iris... she'd had nothing to do with any of it.

That just wasn't what Cane wanted to hear.

"Tell me about the marks on her back."

Hanna flinched. If he had seen those wounds... then he must have undressed her. A cold dread washed over her. She didn't dare imagine what Iris had been forced to endure.

"It's..." Her voice cracked. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, a hot mix of fear and fury churning in her gut.

"I heard nothing." Cane took a step toward her. The sound of his boots echoed through the room, each footfall heavy and oppressive. "Who gave her those scars... and why?"

Hanna looked up sharply. The question struck her with the force of a blow. He knew. Facing him, she had no choice left.

He waited.

And this time, she had to answer.

...

"There's something wrong..." The guard slowed outside Iris's cell, squinting into the darkness.

"Sick again, I'd say," the other replied, his pace not faltering.

The first guard stopped completely, and his partner finally circled back to stand beside him in front of the bars.

Inside, Iris was curled into a ball, her body wracked with tremors. She looked impossibly small, almost nonexistent in the freezing corner.

"She's never been strong. Looks like she won't last much longer."

It was the second time she'd fallen ill this week.

A heavy silence settled between them.

"She won't make it through the week, that's for sure."

The first guard shrugged. "Honestly, it'd be better if the Alpha just finished her off. More humane that way."

They were of the Howling Wolf Pack. For ten long years, they had lived under the thumb of the Blue Moon Pack. Ten years of brutality, chains, and humiliation.

Iris had never been part of that. But it wasn't her actions being judged, only her blood.

"She won't survive in this condition..." one of them muttered, elbowing his companion.

They exchanged a look, then continued their rounds.

A flicker of pity stirred within them. A weak, fleeting pity, not nearly enough to erase a decade of suffering.

If she died here, alone in this damp cell, it wouldn't be an injustice. Maybe it would even be a release. A gentler end than the one that likely awaited her.

...

"Die! You filthy dog!"

Mason's scream ripped through the room as the blade sank into his flesh.

"I swear I'll kill you all! Do you hear me?! I'll slaughter every last one of you!"

His voice broke, dissolving into a pained rasp.

The men around him didn't answer. They were careful. Methodical.

Each blow was calculated. Nothing fatal.

They made him suffer, then gave him just enough time to start healing. Then they began again. And again.

Mason, son of the Blue Moon Alpha. The one who should have inherited it all.

Today, he was nothing.

His pack was shattered, and he was just a prisoner, left to pay for his crimes.

And there was so much to pay for.

Cruel, violent, and hungry for dominance... he had walked in his father's footsteps without a moment's hesitation. The members of the Howling Wolf Pack had been his playthings. He had enslaved them, tortured them, and taken whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

"We could cut something off, right? It's not like he'll be needing it. Would save everyone a lot of trouble."

The man turned his head toward Ethan.

"What do you say, Gamma?"

Ethan offered a slow, predatory smile, baring his fangs.

"He won't die from something like that," he replied calmly. "His body will repair the damage."

Ethan's orders were to watch Mason until the Alpha decided his fate. In the meantime, he could do as he pleased.

There was only one condition. Keep him alive.

"Go fuck yourself, Ethan!" Mason roared, panting for breath. His lacerated skin had already begun to knit itself back together in places.

But the pain remained.

"I should have let them break you completely that day..." he spat, a nasty laugh bubbling in his throat.

Ethan's gaze darkened.

A memory clawed its way to the surface.

He had been young. Too young to defend himself. There were so many of them. Too many. He hadn't been able to do anything. Not even run.

Mason burst out laughing when he saw the shift in Ethan's expression.

"You remember, don't you?" he sneered, his voice dripping with cold cruelty. "I haven't forgotten a thing. Your screams..."

Ethan didn't answer.

In that moment, all those years ago, he had wanted to die.

But today, the roles were reversed.

And Mason was about to understand.

"Cut."

His voice dropped, flat and final.

The three men in the room had been waiting for that single word. They advanced without hesitation.

"Then..." Ethan added, his eyes locked on Mason's, "feed it to the beasts. And make him watch."

The raw terror that flashed in Mason's gaze was exactly what he'd wanted to see.

...

"It was her own brother..." Hanna's voice was a trembling whisper. "He was the one who beat her... with a whip."

Her eyes were raw and swollen from crying.

"Iris... her body doesn't heal like ours does. The wounds remain. They never disappear. He left marks on her back... forever."

She drew a ragged breath, trying to hold herself together.

"And her father... he would lock her away. Sometimes he kept her in the attic for days. With no food. Just because someone had seen her."

From the outside, everyone thought the Alpha was protecting his fragile daughter.

In reality, she lived like a prisoner. A slave in her own home.

Hanna clasped her hands, her posture one of desperate begging.

"I beg you, Alpha Cane... she had nothing to do with it. She suffered, too. Like you. Like your pack..."

A short, cold laugh was her only answer.

"Like me?"

Cane shook his head, a faint, dismissive motion.

"Get out."