Chapter 3: In The North

Scarlett’s POV

“Get up, bitch!” the bearded man snarled, and I forced myself to rise, refusing to show him my pain or fear. I locked my gaze with his, holding it with a silent defiance until he looked away, a flicker of irritation crossing his face.

He yanked on the chain again, pulling me like I was no more than an animal. My body ached with each step, my feet stinging with numbness as they pressed against the icy ground. Weak and exhausted, I could barely keep up, but I forced myself to follow him.

As we entered a large house, the sudden warmth hit me, bringing a temporary relief to my frozen skin. The interior was plain, almost crude, with sparse wooden furniture and dull tungsten lights casting an eerie glow over everything. There was no sense of comfort or taste here—just a harsh, lifeless atmosphere that matched the man who dragged me in.

He tugged on the chains again, and as I stumbled forward, I glanced down, realizing that the chain itself was iron. Only the part wrapped around my wrists was silver, a detail designed to weaken and bind me, but not to harm him. It was intentional—everything about this nightmare was carefully, cruelly crafted.

We reached a brightly lit room, and he shoved me to my knees, ripping the grimy blanket off my shoulders.

Shame washed over me like ice, raw and cutting. No one had ever seen my bare body before, and now here I was, exposed, vulnerable, my dignity stripped away by my father’s Beta, David.

The memory of his final act of betrayal haunted me. He’d dragged me half-naked through the pack, ensuring they all saw me humiliated before handing me over to this brute. He’d made a show of it, a deliberate attempt to strip me of any respect I might have held. David could have carried me or forced me to walk, but he’d chosen to hurt me, and he’d succeeded.

My thoughts broke as three men entered the room, their presence radiating power and authority. They were tall, towering figures with solid, muscular builds. The first had dark hair, almost black, his intense gaze piercing as he assessed me.

The second was a dirty blonde, his face cold and unreadable, giving nothing away. The third was striking, with silver hair that seemed to catch and reflect the light, lending him an almost ethereal quality. All three were young, yet they moved with a self-assuredness that told me they were no ordinary Alphas. They were Valkin Alphas like my father, their very presence commanding respect, exuding a strength that was terrifyingly familiar.

I was nothing in their eyes—just a prisoner, a prize to be claimed. But as they looked at me, I felt a new kind of fear twist in my chest. These men, these Alphas, were unlike anyone I’d ever known, and I could feel their judgment in their eyes as they examined the broken girl before them.

A wave of dread swept over me as I tried to understand why David had sent me here, to these men. I felt trapped, small, like prey in the gaze of a predator.

“So this is the girl,” the man with silver hair said, his tone calm, almost curious, as he sniffed the air and flashed a chilling smile.

“Yes, Alpha!” the bearded man responded eagerly. The three men seated themselves in front of me, the silver-haired one in the center, commanding attention. Their eyes were fixed on me, and I felt naked under their gaze, like every inch of me was being evaluated.

“Do you recognize us?” the silver-haired man asked. His voice was flat, indifferent, revealing nothing about his thoughts. I was parched; my throat was dry and tight. Forcing myself to answer, I barely managed a hoarse “No.” I tried to swallow, but it felt like sandpaper scraping down my throat.

He raised an eyebrow, looking slightly taken aback. “Get her some water,” he ordered, and someone hurried to obey.

An old woman approached with a cup, and the moment the water touched my lips, it was like a balm to my parched mouth. I wanted to gulp it down, but she held the cup, making me sip slowly, gently guiding me to drink with control. Each sip was like a breath of life, grounding me, if only for a moment.

“Don’t you remember us?” the dirty blonde asked, his tone curious, almost expectant. I shook my head, unsure of what they wanted from me. They exchanged glances, confusion flickering across their faces.

“You don’t look the same, but we met three years ago, briefly. Your father introduced you to us,” the silver-haired one explained, watching me for any sign of recognition. I shook my head again, unable to recall the encounter. A dark shadow crossed the face of the man with black hair, and he scowled.

“The slut has been with too many men to recognise three she met only briefly,” he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. The accusation felt like a slap, stinging and unfair. The other two men glanced at me with thinly veiled disgust, judging me on a past I hadn’t chosen, a past that wasn’t mine.

A thousand words were trapped inside me, each one begging to speak against his judgment, but I held my silence, my pride barely intact, afraid of how they would twist my words.

“Give her a room,” the silver-haired Alpha ordered, and the elderly woman who had brought me water took my arm, leading me away.