Saving My Triplet Alphas

Two

TRIGGER WARNING: ASSAULT

Frankie:

I thought being dragged through the pack that raised me like one of the rogues whose lives end with their heads staked outside the gates of Pinnala was embarrassing enough, but I was wrong.

I was yanked beneath the cold grounds that hold the Pinnala dungeon cells. Underneath the grounds that held my first walk, first run, and first heartbreak, I was stripped naked and chained to the cell walls.

When I realized trying to cover my body only caused the cuffs to tighten, I went slack, defeated, and broken, letting the brick bite into my back.

When those cuffs were latched, I knew what would happen next. It was the same for every Pinnala prisoner. I knew I would be doused with ice water every five minutes until it was time for my sentence to be carried out. I knew I would be starved, and likely beaten, and r.a.p.e.d, and suddenly I was angry with myself.

Why didn't I just shift?

I should have known how ignorant it was to believe for even a moment that I would be treated even remotely differently. It was a foolish wish that made me feel stupid for not fighting harder for my freedom, fighting harder not to be lost to these four cell walls.

When the guards walked back in five minutes later, I had expected them to both carry buckets of ice water that would cover me in an attempt to torture me until my sentencing was completed. Instead, only one held the bucket I had expected. The other guard was dragging Pinnala's signature weapon behind him. A forty-six-inch row of razors was attached to a handle carved from cork, a handle he gripped tight enough to fracture his knuckles.

My whole body shook, not with the cold water like I suspected, but with the sounds of the razors dragging across the stone floor.

Tyner had been teaching me how to wield this weapon; over six months, I had gotten relatively good at it.

Before I got good at using the razor-chained whip, I had inflicted more than one injury on myself, and the burn that accompanies those razors is indescribable and brutal.

Judging by the smirk on this man's face, he knew exactly how painful those razors could be, and he would enjoy every lashing he would give me.

"Upon Alpha's orders, the orphan will receive one lash for every hit upon the heir's skin." I was frozen in place by the words this beast spoke as my brain worked tirelessly to count every hit I landed on Tyner during our fight.

"Which is at what count now?" the guard asked the officer carrying the ice water, still wearing a disgusting grin on his smug face.

"Fourteen." He answered, looking fearful for me, looking... apologetic maybe?

I held my chin high. I refused to give a single being here the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

Having seen more than one of these brutal beatings, I refused to beg to be spared like the men before me. Instead, I shuffled to my knees, turning myself over until my back faced them before they turned me around themselves.

The bite of the stone on my knees, the ache of the cuffs tightening on my wrists and ankles, and the contortion of my body hurt far less, knowing what was to come for me.

As the razors bit through the air with a sickening sound, I prepared myself for the worst pain I would likely experience before my beheading next week, and I braced myself for it.

The first bite of the blades made me see stars as they sank deep into my skin, severing nerves and chipping bone. The ripping sounds of my flesh, as the whip pulled back, made my stomach churn; I puked what little was in my stomach all over my knees, watching with clouded vision as it mixed with my blood pooling beneath me.

I bit into my bottom lip while clenching my jaw until the pressure caused my teeth to pop and crack.

"Squeal pig! Beg me to stop, you no good trash!” the guard yelled as he pulled the razor chain back, wrapping it around my back, over my shoulder, where the tip bit into my chest just over my heart. That was the lash I prayed would end me. I couldn't live through fourteen of these. Still, I refused to scream. I would never let myself give him the satisfaction, none of them would get the better of me ever again.

The third lashing threatened to steal my consciousness and sink me into the darkness I had long prayed for. I let it swallow me up entirely. I invited any distraction from the sounds of the whip and the guard's joy still ringing in my ears, but something held me present. Something vicious and wild warmed my skin like lava in my veins. The vibrantly angry sensation refused to let me give up how I wanted to.

"Help is coming. Hold on a little while longer." I heard clearly but couldn't imagine either of these guards was getting help for me. I couldn't see a single shifter in this pack caring enough for the lowly orphan to save my life.

"Help is coming." The voice rang again, but I wasn't convinced as another lash beat across my back. I just wanted to sleep…

"That's enough, that's fourteen!" The other guard, the one who sounded sorry, yelled out.

"I said enough!" He roared this time, letting his shifter spirit show, showing me for the first time since their arrival that he had the seniority between the two.

Before I could comprehend the sloshing sounds, the bucket of water was emptied over my burning skin, an ease that felt like a gift.

I was heaving, gasping for breath, when I finally just sank into the position that I was lashed in, knowing this one would hurt far less than trying to lean my back against the wall again. The moment the dungeon door closed, I sobbed, falling deeper into the swarm of mental and physical anguish plaguing me.

"Help is coming." The voice came again, piercing through my agony, heating my frigid skin enough to make the cuts burn again.

"Hold on a little longer." It whispered the small secret shared between me and my fading sanity through my mind.

"No one is coming." I finally replied, still gasping with every breath that filled my lungs enough to stretch the skin to open and ache.

I called my wolf, unsurprised to find she could not be reached. Those whips are made of silver. Only the cork handle can be held by the Pinnala wielder.

At this moment, I couldn't be sure she would return to me either… At this point, I was shocked I was still alive for her to return to at all.