Maria.
Splash!
Cold water crashed over my body, soaking straight through skin and wounds alike. I gasped violently, my body jerking as pain ripped me back into consciousness. My eyes fluttered open against my will, lashes heavy, vision swimming as agony screamed through every nerve.
I blinked hard, forcing my sight to focus.
I was still there.
Still sprawled on the unforgiving ground, my body trembling uncontrollably, muscles twitching as though they no longer belonged to me. Above me stood Aidan, unmoving. His stare bore into me with frightening intensity, sharp and unwavering, as if he were daring me to break again.
"What a weakling!" he thundered, his voice rolling over me like a crushing weight. "There are two more whips left. How dare you doze on me?"
His words sliced deeper than the whip ever could.
Tears spilled freely from my eyes, hot and unstoppable, tracking down my temples and into my hair. I didn't bother wiping them away. I didn't have the strength. I just stared up at him, chest heaving, every breath shallow and painful.
"Why did you save me?" I asked suddenly, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. My voice shook, raw and broken. "You could have left me to die at the hands of the rogues!"
I spat blood as I spoke, thick and dark, splattering against the dirt beneath me. My vision blurred again, my head spinning. "I—"
The whip came down.
The pain exploded.
It shot straight through my back and up my spine, crashing into my skull like a violent storm. Everything inside me short-circuited at once. My scream died before it could fully form, strangled in my throat as my body convulsed violently.
For a split second, there was nothing but white.
Then sound rushed back in.
I dragged in a breath that burned my lungs and gathered whatever scraps of strength I had left. My throat felt torn apart, but I forced the words out anyway, pouring every ounce of hatred and agony into them.
"I hate you!"
The silence that followed was sharp and sudden.
I saw it then—just for a heartbeat. His hand stilled. His expression shifted, something flickering across his face. Guilt, maybe. Or hesitation. Or perhaps my words had found their mark in a place he didn't expect.
But it didn't matter.
Whatever it was vanished just as quickly.
His eyes hardened, all mercy stripped away, and the whip fell one last time. The final stroke was merciless, deliberate. Fifty was fifty—nothing less, nothing more.
Darkness clawed at the edges of my vision as rough hands seized me. The guards dragged me away, my body limp, my consciousness barely clinging to me.
"Moon Goddess… why me?" I whispered, the words barely audible even to myself.
I was dumped at my doorstep, my body collapsing where they left me. Inch by inch, I crawled into the room, every movement sending fresh waves of pain through me. As I dragged myself forward, I felt it—another presence.
I lifted my head slowly.
A girl about my age sat quietly at the edge of the bed, watching me.
"Who are you?" I asked, my voice rough and uncertain as it left my throat.
She looked up at me calmly, her posture composed despite the setting, as though the walls around us did not apply to her the way they did to me. "I am Galen," she replied evenly. "We would be sharing this room together."
I studied her more closely then. There was something about the way she spoke, measured, articulate, refined, that didn't belong in a place like this. Her clothes were worn, yes, but they sat on her differently. Even bruised by circumstance, she carried herself with quiet dignity. From the way she held her chin to the softness of her accent, it was obvious she wasn't ordinary. High class, without a doubt.
Which made no sense.
Everyone had been summoned. No one had been spared. Disobedience was unthinkable. So how could someone like her end up here?
"How did you get here?" I asked, curiosity overriding the dull ache in my body. My eyes never left her face, searching for cracks, for answers she hadn't offered yet.
"I was just brought here a few minutes ago," she said gently. "Someone from the pack saved me."
The words lingered between us. Saved. That alone raised too many questions.
"Are you a rogue?" I asked.
The effect was immediate.
Something flickered behind her eyes, something deep and fleeting, like a door briefly opened then slammed shut. Her smile came a heartbeat later, practiced and careful, smoothing over whatever memories my question had stirred. It was convincing, but not enough.
"Yes," she answered softly. "For now, I am."
Her words settled heavily in the room, carrying weight beyond their simplicity.
I didn't ask her anything else.
I didn't need to.
There was something in her eyes I recognized too well, a quiet guardedness, the kind that came from having lost something important. Whatever story she carried, it wasn't one she was ready to share, and I understood that silence more than words. It mirrored my own. People like us didn't speak because speaking never changed the outcome.
Something must have happened in her pack. That much was clear. No one became a rogue without a reason. No one ended up here by choice. I wondered briefly what she had lost, what line had been crossed, what moment had turned her life upside down. Then I let the thought go.
All I could do was hope she would survive here.
Because in Moon Bridge territory, survival wasn't equal.
Omegas were tolerated. Sometimes pitied. Sometimes protected.
Rogues were not.
Rogues were hunted, punished, broken to make examples of. I had learned that lesson the hard way, my body still aching with proof. Compared to rogues, Omegas lived better, breathed easier, and suffered less. The difference was cruel and unmistakable.
A bitter laugh echoed quietly inside my chest.
How strange life was.
How cruelly fast it changed.
In just a few days, I had fallen from everything I was born into. From being a Beta's daughter, to being nothing more than a rogue, bruised and disposable. The fall had been so sudden it felt unreal, like a story that hadn't finished unfolding yet.
And yet, here I was.
Living proof of how quickly everything could be taken away.