The Villainous Matriarch's Secretly Pampered Wolf Consorts

The mechanical voice echoed in Ella's brain, cold and emotionless.

She kept her face perfectly rigid, but her pulse raced. A System? Like in the novels she used to read between surgeries?

She looked down at Daulton. The fierce wolf boy had completely collapsed, his spirit broken by the threat to his brother. Every instinct in Ella's body screamed at her to reach out, to pat his shaking shoulders and tell him it was okay.

She dug her fingernails so hard into her palms that the skin nearly broke. She couldn't.

Kevan shuffled forward on his knees. He reached out with his bleeding fingers, gently catching the hem of Ella's lavish silk nightgown.

"Please, Master," Kevan whispered, his voice cracking. "Forgive him. He is young. Punish me instead."

Ella's eyes dropped to Kevan's hands. The cuts from the bone dagger were deep, slicing straight down to the muscle. In this world, minor wounds healed fast for beastmen, but a cut that deep could easily sever a tendon. Her veterinary instincts flared. She frowned hard.

Daulton saw her frown. He thought she was disgusted by Kevan's blood on her dress. He immediately threw himself in front of Kevan, shielding him with his body, squeezing his eyes shut as he waited for her to strike him.

Ella took a slow, deep breath. She channeled the original owner's haughty, impatient tone.

"Get up," she snapped, her voice like cracking ice.

Both men scrambled to their feet, terrified. Daulton's wolf ears drooped flat against his head, all his rebellious fire extinguished.

Ella searched the original owner's memories. Why was Daulton trying to kill her?

The answer hit her like a physical blow to the stomach. Cordaro. Daulton's older brother.

Last night, the original Ella had been bored. She had taken a whip soaked in a flesh-rotting toxin and lashed Cordaro for hours. She had left him chained to the dungeon wall, his wounds heavily infected, slowly dying in agony.

Ella's stomach lurched violently. A wave of intense nausea washed over her. She felt physically sick at the cruelty her body had committed.

She forced the bile back down. She spun around, marching toward the heavy oak door.

"Take me to the dungeon," she ordered coldly.

Daulton's head snapped up. Raw terror flooded his amber eyes. He thought she was going down there to finish Cordaro off, to execute him for the assassination attempt.

Kevan quickly grabbed Daulton's arm, digging his fingers in to keep the boy quiet. He bowed deeply to Ella's back.

"Yes, Master," Kevan said, his voice completely hollow.

The three of them walked down the long, opulent corridors of the estate. The walls were lined with gold-leaf mirrors and expensive magic-beast pelts, but the air felt dead. Torches flickered, casting long, twisted shadows across the marble floors.

As they descended the stone spiral staircase into the underground levels, the temperature plummeted. The air grew damp and heavy.

A thick, metallic stench of old blood mixed with the sweet, sickening smell of rotting flesh hit Ella's nose.

Her steps faltered. The nausea returned, stronger this time.

Kevan, walking slightly behind her, noticed her hesitation. His gray eyes flickered with a tiny, deeply hidden spark of confusion. The old Ella loved this smell. Why was she slowing down?

They reached the end of the corridor. A heavy iron grate blocked the entrance to the last cell.

Daulton's breathing turned ragged. His eyes filled with fresh tears.

In the dim light of a single torch, a massive figure hung from the wall, suspended by thick, rusted iron chains locked around his wrists, the excess heavy links pooling on the damp stone floor below.

It was Cordaro. He was a high-tier wolf warrior, a man who used to command respect. Now, he was covered in blood and filth. His fur was matted into hard, dark clumps.

Ella stepped closer to the iron bars. Even in the bad lighting, she could see the deep, jagged whip marks crisscrossing his broad chest. The edges of the wounds were swollen, leaking thick, yellow pus.

She listened carefully. Cordaro's breathing was shallow, rapid, and wet.

Sepsis. The infection had entered his bloodstream. His body was shutting down.

Daulton couldn't hold it in anymore. He threw himself against the iron bars, letting out a muffled, agonizing whimper.

Kevan leaned against the cold stone wall and closed his eyes. He was waiting for Ella to give the order to throw the body to the wild beasts.

Ella's hands gripped the fabric of her skirt. She squeezed so hard her knuckles turned stark white. She needed the physical pain to keep her face from crumbling into tears.

[Warning, ] the System's voice chimed in her head. [If a bound consort dies, the host will suffer a forced extraction of life force, resulting in agonizing, immediate organ failure. ]

Ella sneered in her mind. I don't need a threat to save a life, you piece of junk.

She spun around on her heel, her eyes locking onto Kevan with a harsh, demanding glare.

Kevan flinched violently, instinctively pulling his bleeding hands against his chest.

"Go fetch a basin of boiling water and clean rags," Ella barked, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Now. I am going in there."