1 = Elizabeth

Whoosh… Crack… Smack…

Whoosh… Crack… Smack…

Drip… Whoosh… Crack… Smack…

Drip… Whoosh… Crack… Smack… SCREAM!…

I tried to hold in that scream but as the iron-infused leather whip that’s now laced with a weak version of our Prides Deaths Door serum lashed at my sore, bloody and damaged back, cutting into more of my skin as Graves pulled it back this time, I just couldn’t.

He always dips the whip into the Deaths Door serum for the last two lashes knowing that if I haven’t screamed yet I soon will. The Deaths Door serum is just that, it is a mix of Azalea, lily, Mistletoe, Rhododendron and Sago Palm which are some of the most deadly natural plants to WereCats.

At full strength it’s very painful, extremely deadly and only used as a last resort, however, a diluted version is used to coat some of the punishment whips just to add a little more burn and a little more pain. The antidote is usually not needed but given a few hours after punishment has been served just to ingrain the lesson to be learned.

When I heard the pleasured moan, the evil and satisfied chuckle behind me and then the whip hitting the floor behind me I knew that my scream was what he was waiting for.

Graves Reaper is a Beta Warrior in my Pride and he enjoyed inflicting pain onto others especially me. I expect him to turn and leave as he normally does after he inflicts one of his punishments only this time I feel the warmth of his breath on the outer rim of my ear as he steps up next to me and whispers,

“Mane Beatrice will give you to me one day soon and then I will have you screaming ’STOP’ for a whole other reason, my little runt.”

I let my body sag straining against my binds as I am finally able to relax a little when I feel him step back from me and then hear him walk out of the cell he has me shackled in this time. Tears stream down my cheeks from the pain of his punishment and the thought of what he would do to me if Mane Beatrice allowed him to.

Beatrice Von-Cane is the Mane of our Pride, she is what others would call the Alpha of the pack. So, whatever she says is law and any that breaks those laws are punished. I hadn’t even done anything this time worth the extended punishment I just received, other than not screaming out in pain.

My name is Elizabeth Shade-River.

I am an orphan and was found wandering the land when I was 2 by Duke River the Alpha Warrior of the Vapor-Moon Pride, while he was out on one of his patrols. I had no parents that he could find and he had somehow managed to convince Mane Beatrice to allow me to stay under his care.

I stayed in the same room with Duke’s youngest daughter Kyria until Mane Beatrice decided I was to have my own room. I am now 20 years old, I am very petite at only 5ft. I have streaky red hair down past my waist and bright orange eyes.

I know I am a WereCat of some type as Mane Beatrice’s cheetah wouldn’t have let me stay if I wasn’t. However, I still haven’t shifted or even heard my cat, so we are not sure which one I am and then you have the colour of my eyes, Duke says that there is more to me however, we just don't know what.

The Vapor-Moon Pride was different to most as we are a Pride of and for warriors and not a male one but female. The Pride is made up of about 50 or so female WereCheetahs, however; we only have 3 males. 

Duke River is the Alpha Male Warrior, my adoptive Dad and then there is his Beta’s. Anton Darkblade is quiet and serious, he is one male you don’t want to cross and then there is Graves Reaper, who is a little more laid back however he is still just as deadly. The 3 of them mainly protect Mane Beatrice and her eldest daughters, Nala and Chloe, while the elite warriors protect the Pride.

Mane Beatrice runs the Pride like a strict military camp and she is regarded as one of the best, legally training warriors to be sold or traded to other Prides. However, Mane Beatrice did not only trade in legal warriors, she also illegally traded in breeders and slaves as well, she managed to do this without interference from the council as some of the high council members indulged in the trading and the buying of all three.

I am very small when compared to the other females here, so according to Mane Beatrice I am not suitable to train as a warrior. I know when my turn eventually comes Mane Beatrice will sell or trade me as either a breeder or a slave. I tried my best to keep my head down and keep out of trouble but it never seemed to work.

It seemed that Mane Beatrice took every chance or excuse she could even if it was for the littlest of things and would she send me down to be shackled in the cells and punished. That is unless she wanted to make a spectacle out of me, then she had me bound and shackled to a post in the middle of our Pride’s small village for my punishment.

I hang here by my binds after my last punishment as flashes of my very first punishment invade my mind.

>Flashback <

I was 7, I was finally old enough to start work in the kitchen. I found it hard to carry the heavy pots and pans or the big piles of clean or dirty plates. I was very small for a 7-year-old, hence where the nickname of runt came from.

The head female in the kitchen had given me Mane Beatrice’s dinner plate and had told me to go out and serve her so that she could get the rest of the meals out while everything was hot. Wanting to earn my keep and actually get something to eat that night I had carefully carried the plate from the kitchen to the dining room.

I was proud that I had made it all the way through the room without making a misstep, however, Mane Beatrice got her dinner only it wasn’t on the table in front of her, it was all over her, all over her hair, her face, her top and in her lap and I was face down on the floor.

Mane Beatrice’s twin daughters, Nala and Chloe never liked me, even though they were a little older than me at the age of 11. They had fun picking on me and making sure that I got into as much trouble as possible. However, they had done nothing as bad as this before.

They sat there and giggled as Mane Beatrice lifted her hands to her face and removed the food flinging it to the floor and all over me, I quickly got up and tried to help remove the food from her top as I whimpered,

“Sorry, sorry, sorry… I didn’t… It wasn’t…”

I turn slightly and look at Nala who was the one that tripped me and continues.

“Na…”

Before I can even say her name Mane Beatrice moves quicker than I can and backhands me hard sending me back to the floor as she lets out a loud threatening roar and yells,

“DUKE!”

Duke who is the Alpha Warrior of our Pride comes running into the dining room and slides to a stop at her side, bowing as he suppresses the chuckle of the scene in front of him. With Mane Beatrice’s temper rising she hisses,

“Pick up that worthless runt and shackle her to the punishment pole. It’s time she was taught a lesson of her place here.”

There was a collection of gasps that went around the room full of females, Lucy, Mane Beatrice’s second leans closer to her and whispers,

“Beatrice, isn’t that a little harsh?”

Mane Beatrice glares at her before nodding to Duke who then walked around the table to where I was still lying on the floor with my hand on my cheek from her slap. He had an apologetic look in his eyes knowing that she is going to want to see pain, as he reached down pulling me up to my feet by my hair.

My hands go to his to stop the pain as he then drags me out of the dining room through the caverns of our Den and out into the heart of the small outside village.

I struggled against him as only a 7-year-old could, whimpering for him not to do it, for my Daddy not to do what she had ordered him to do. Only it did no good as I looked up at him, with his stern face and knowing that he was the warrior of the Pride at this moment not my loving Dad.