While She's Down - 1

"Get up, bitch." Wesley sneers down at me, his voice dripping with venom. "Or do you need more time to finish crying to mommy dearest?"

His words sting, but I'm used to them, along with his slaps, his kicks, his punches. His words are probably his weakest weapon, but that doesn't stop them from stirring something wounded within me.

I pick myself up and get on my feet despite my aching, tense abdomen. I know the drill and keep my eyes lowered. Grit and bear it. That's all I have to do. Just grit my teeth and bear it.

"Not much of a mother, though," he sniffs, circling me and her grave. "Took the first chance she could to leave you behind. I guess that's where you get that coward streak from."

Wesley Wrest knows just what to say to cut me deep. He's had years of practice. Of course every insult and barb is carefully calculated to prick at my raw nerves. He also knows that I can't do anything against him.

As the future Alpha of River Crest, he's already got more power than he knows what to do with. All I can do is stand there, tense like a cornered animal. I can't even meet his gaze without facing retaliation.

His tone betrays his poisonous confidence. He knows he's at the top of the food chain in the pack. The asshole who would be king comes to torment his unwitting subject.

"You're in my way again, Pride," he hisses, voice full of sadistic amusement that sends shivers down my spine. "Apologies, Future Alpha Wrest," I mutter with a bow. "I wasn't aware you had business to attend to here."

"Oh yes, very important business," he snickers. In two steps, he's pressed against my side, his lips close to my ear. I feel his hot breath on my skin. "This is my favorite spot."

His finger hooks under my chin as he forces me to look up into his hateful brown eyes. "I come here to relieve myself," he says, that twisted grin on full display. "Right on your mom's grave. Seems fitting, don't you think?"

He's right. I'm a coward.

Any wolf worth their ilk would have torn into him right there and made him pay for even insinuating such a thing. But that kind of resistance has already been beaten out of me. All I can do is stay quiet and pray he doesn't summon his goons into the mix.

Wesley never travels alone. And while I can't see his usual gang of grunts, I smell them. They aren't far. Even if I give in and take a swing, I'll be beaten to death in a matter of minutes. Maybe that's what he wants.

I won't give him the satisfaction. Not after all these years.

Heavy silence hangs between us, and his eyes twinkle with anticipation of how I'll react to his words. Moonlight bathes the chilling portrait of his face, illuminating the cruel satisfaction deepening his cruel grin. All Wesley craves is my pain.

A small, defiant flame flickers in my heart. I won't give him that, either.

"I would move if I were you," he sighs, stroking my chin with the side of his hand. "Or maybe you want me to mark you like a tree, you disgusting mutt. Seems like something an Alpha-killer's kid would be into."

The air thickens as the oppressive weight of his rank pack presses down on me, daring me to disobey. It's one of those nights. He won't stop until I play the game, speak up, and invite punishment from my betters.

There's no future where I'm not left beaten and bloody at the end of the night. Not with Wesley. Not with Deadrick. At least Wesley gets bored. Deadrick has decades of hatred stored away and has no issues unleashing it all night long.

Wesley cocks his head to the side, waiting for me to defend my mother's honor and myself.

It's going to hurt.

"Why are you so cruel?" I murmur, my words barely audible even to my own ears. "I'm beneath you, right? So, why waste time on me? You get nothing from it."

His laugh echoes, filling the clearing and ricocheting off the trees like gunfire. "Aw, come on, Pride. Don't sell yourself short. I think you secretly love my company."

My gut clenches, and it's like every instinct in me is screaming to bolt. So, without thinking twice, I turn and run, feet pounding the earth like a drumroll. My grand escape plan is short-lived.

Just as I near the edge of the clearing, a strong arm wraps around me, yanking me to a stop. The scent of pine and earth covers me, mixed with a hint of elevated hubris and self-importance—the future Beta of the pack.

Russel.

He doesn't say a word as he drags me back in front of Wesley, throwing me to the ground.

"Tsk. Don't get disrespectful, Pride. I wasn't finished speaking with you." Wesley kneels, grabbing my face roughly and pulling me toward him. "You don't get to walk away when your Alpha is gracing you with his presence."

Before I can even muster a response, a new presence enters the scene with a gentle, sweet breeze. A soft, floral scent that makes my stomach turn.

Quinn Iverson is Wesley's chosen mate and the future Luna of River Crest.

Her lips curve into a saccharine smile, a sweetness that doesn't reach her baby-blue eyes. I know her, know that underneath that delicate and refined façade lies a viper in a pretty dress.

"Is everything alright here?" she asks, her voice sugary sweet and fake as all the rest of her. "Wesley, you really shouldn't be bothering poor Makayla."

My gut churns, the alarm bells going off in my head. She's just here to stoke Wesley's fire and bring him to more physical levels of violence. They're a sadistic match made in hell.

I meet her gaze, my eyes probably betraying all my disgust beneath the surface. The only thing I manage to say is, "I'm fine, really."

But that's not what she wants to hear.

Suddenly, Quinn's sweet demeanor dissolves into a harsh scowl. Her hand shoots out, slapping my face with enough force to leave a burning mark. Pain blooms, but it's nothing compared to her poisonous tone.

"You little bitch, when I'm trying to help, you better show some respect."

In one swift movement, she grabs Wesley by the collar and pulls him down for a kiss.

I can't move; Russel's hands pin me to the ground, his knee jammed in the middle of my back. I can hardly breathe as I'm forced to watch Quinn drag Wesley to the ground, stripping away her pink and blue flower dress.

Wesley buries his face in her neck, his hands wildly pawing at her bare breasts as he fumbles out of his own shirt and undoes his pants.

Why?

Why do I have to watch this? I don't want to see this. I don't want to see them do this. Not here. Not anywhere. But especially not here on my mother's grave.

Clenching my eyes shut, I try to turn my head away, but nothing blocks out their breathy panting and her mewling moans.

"Make that bitch open her eyes!" Wesley shouts. "I want her to watch."

One of Russel's large, calloused hands latches around my throat while the other painfully digs at my eyes, forcing them open.

My vision's bleary and stinging. But I see everything.

Quinn is naked and splayed, her legs wrapped around Wesley's muscular torso, her fingers digging into the mossy soil. Blonde hair fanned out around her like a halo, glistening in the moonlight as her pale skin glows.

Wesley is nestled between her slim thighs, large hands gripping her breasts roughly as he thrusts wildly within her. His jaw is clenched hard, flexing with every pump.

He's fucking her in front of the cross I bled to make. On the mound, soaked by my tears. I hate him. I hate her. I hate them all.

But I hate him the most.

And he knows it. He can see it in my tear-streaked face. Because he's not looking at the gorgeous woman he's inside of. He's not watching her writhe and moan in ecstasy as his hips slam into hers.

No, his horrible eyes are fixed on me.

With every thrust, he stares into my soul. When he grips her by the waist and lifts her hips more, and she throws her head back in pleasure, it's my eyes he's watching. It's like he's studying a wounded animal in the wild. Waiting for an opening to attack and finish the job.

The sound of them fucking drowns out the crickets and the night birds and the gentle breeze. It drowns out all my reason and sanity. All that's left is the sound of slapping skin, grunts, moans, and Wesley's laughter.

"You jealous, Pride? Want someone to fuck you like this?" His haunting smile curves across his face like an open wound. "You want me to fuck you like this? I will if you beg. Right here on top of mommy dearest. I'll fuck you raw."

If Russel's knee wasn't digging into my spine, suppressing my air, I could draw enough breath to scream. To curse him and damn him to hell. To rise up and rip him to shreds. But I can't.

And that breaks something inside of me. Tears flow freely from my eyes, and that's all it takes. That's all he was waiting for.

"There it is," Wesley grunts, his eyes going wide at the sight of me. "That's what I wanted. That's it. Ugh, fuck, yes."

"Yes, baby! Yes! Harder!" Quinn's eyes roll to the back of her head when Wesley picks up the pace. Even as she clings to him, her body spasming with her release, his gaze doesn't leave me. He keeps going, invigorated by my pain.

It isn't until he cries out and slumps on top of her, resting his face in the curve of her neck, that I'm let go.

My body moves on its own, and I push myself up onto my knees. My hands are covered in dirt from where I'd clung to the earth while forced to watch their… demonstration. Spreading my fingers in the grass, it's eerie how calm I feel despite everything.

Otherworldly. Vacant. Numb.

"You gonna beg me, Pride?" Wesley's voice pulls my attention away from my dirt-caked fingers. He's got his pants back on, though his shirt dangles from his clenched fist as he stares down at me. "Hm? You ready to beg me to take you on top of your mom?"

"Don't get her hopes up, baby," Quinn hums, wrapping her arms around him from behind. She rests her cheek on his bicep and glares in my direction. "If you tease her like that, she might actually believe someone will want her."

"I just feel bad, is all," Wesley sighs, shrugging away from Quinn to squat down to my eye level. The eerie calm remains despite my instincts demanding I attack. "As an Alpha, it's my job to look after my pack. Even the worthless, filthy mutts among us."

I can't help but flinch when his hand cups my cheek, his thumb gently stroking the tears and dirt away.

"If you ask me in a real sweet voice, I'll be gentle. I promise."