14: Still a Boss Bitch

HERA

I kept my head down as I moved between the tables, my mind racing. The room was thick with tension, and I could feel their eyes on me. Every step felt like it stretched on for hours, each second heavier than the last.

“Hera,” Atticus’s deep voice cut through the silence, commanding attention. “Raise your head.”

My stomach twisted. I didn’t want to meet their eyes, not here, not like this. But I knew there was no way out of it. Slowly, reluctantly, I lifted my head, my gaze sweeping across the room.

There they were—all the Alphas, watching me with expressions that ranged from mockery to something even darker. Their eyes locked on me like predators circling their prey.

I could recognize all of them, and they could recognize me.

This was all a set up.

“Well, well,” One of the Alphas spoke, his voice laced with mockery. I turned to look at him and recognized him immediately.

Logan, Alpha of the Midnight Howlers, a tall, dark-haired man with a cruel smile. He had once tried to challenge my authority in a border dispute.

I remember when I’d used my powers to crush his will, making him kneel before me, a proud wolf brought to his knees. He’d been humiliated, his pack watching as he grovelled, begging for a mercy I had no intention of giving.

Now, he was leaning back in his chair, his gaze slithering over me. He hadn’t forgotten that day, and now he saw this as his chance to reclaim the power I’d stripped from him.

“That uniform suits you, Hera,” he said with a mocking smirk that barely hid the bitterness I knew he felt for me. “Though I’m sure you’d look better without it.” he added, his eyes raking over my body.

A ripple of laughter followed from the surrounding Alphas. I swallowed hard, biting back the retort I wanted to throw in his face. But now wasn’t the time.

“I never thought I’d see the Great Hera Volkov serving tables,” Another Alpha spoke. “Quite a fall from grace, isn’t it?”

That was Vance, Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack. He had tried to expand his territory into mine once, thinking he could intimidate me into a surrender.

But instead, I’d turned his own pack against him, manipulating his mind and making him beg like a dog in front of his strongest warriors. I made him think he was a dog for two weeks straight before I finally put him back in his right mind.

He found himself in the gutters when he came back to his senses.

Now, he had the opportunity to talk back to me anyhow.

The laughter grew louder. They were feeding off each other’s taunts, circling me like vultures. My heart pounded, but I forced myself to keep my face neutral.

I couldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing how much it stung.

“Tell me, Hera,” Draven said, his voice heavy with disdain, “does it sting? Serving the men you once made crawl on their knees?”

Alpha Draven of the Iron Fang Pack was an older Alpha. Older and more egoistic.

He had once been foolish enough to challenge me openly in a council meeting, claiming I wasn’t fit to lead. I’d toyed with him for days, entering his mind and showing him illusions of his own weakness, of him losing his pack.

He had descended into madness for a while, his paranoia making him lash out at everyone. When he finally begged me to release him, I’d done so with a smile, knowing he’d never be the same. His pack never fully trusted him after that.

Now, the tables have turned and he wanted me to have a taste of my own medicine.

His words hung in the air, and I fought the urge to spit back something sharp. I could feel their eyes burning into me, revelling in my humiliation.

They were all here—Logan, Vance, Draven, and others I had crossed over the years, men who would have torn each other apart at any other meeting but now found a common ground in watching me squirm.

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, but I said nothing. My gaze drifted to Atticus at the head of the table. He hadn’t spoken since instructing me to raise my head, but his silence weighed heavy.

He could stop this if he wanted to, but I realised with bitter clarity that he didn’t intend to.

This was his plan afterall. This was why he invited them. To have a go at me.

Our eyes met briefly, and something cold flickered in his gaze.

Bastard.

“If it’s not too much to ask,” Logan spoke up again, his voice dripping with mockery, “I’d like to request that your mate keep us entertained while we eat, Alpha Atticus. After all, she’s got a reputation for... putting on quite a show.”

The others chuckled, their laughter filling the room, and I felt the heat of their eyes burning into me. My hands clenched into fists at my sides.

Entertain them?

They wanted to degrade me even further?

Atticus didn’t even blink. His cold eyes flicked toward me.

“Go ahead.” He ordered. “Dance for us.

I froze. Was he actually going to make me do this?

“I’m not dancing for anyone,” I spat, my voice sharp.

Atticus’s expression didn’t change, but a slow, deliberate smile spread across his face.

“You’ll do what you’re told.”

“And I said no.” I stood my ground, not backing down.

Without missing a beat, he motioned to one of the guards by the door.

“Make sure she obeys.”

That was all he said before the sound of the lash cutting through the air hit my ears, and in the next second, a terrible, searing pain exploded across my face and my entire body.

My clothes ripped right to my skin and I screamed—unable to stop the cry of pain from escaping my throat.

The guard stepped back, preparing for another strike but Atticus raised his hand to stop him. I gritted my teeth against the wave of agony, my hand instinctively flying to the torn flesh on my face

I was bleeding.

“That’s a start,” Atticus said, as he leaned forward, his tone cold. “I’m sure Rachel screamed louder than that when you cut her open. Maybe you’ll understand a fraction of the pain you caused her.”

I didn’t kill Rachel!

I wanted to scream out but I bit my tongue, my heart racing with mixture of fury and shame boiling inside me.

“You’d better get to that dance,” Atticus continued, his voice almost casual. “Because if you don’t, the next lash will come from the other end. And trust me, the thorns will make this look like you fought with a beast and lost woefully.”

I looked at the lash, the thorns glinting menacingly at the end, and my stomach turned. I wanted to fight. I wanted to tear them all apart. But I knew what would happen if I didn’t comply. They were all waiting for me to break, to see me grovel.

I straightened, blood trickling down my cheek, my clothes literally hanging in shreds.

“You’ll all pay for this,” I said through gritted teeth, looking at each of them in turn. “Every single one of you will get what’s coming.” I growled at them.

Logan chuckled darkly.

“We’re all looking forward to it. Now, dance.”

I glared at him, then at Atticus. His eyes bore into mine, daring me to defy him again.

I didn’t have a choice.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself as I began to dance. The moment I moved, the atmosphere shifted, and I could feel every pair of eyes on me—each gaze a mix of hunger and derision. I let my body move to an imaginary rhythm, forcing myself to keep my movements fluid and enticing.

My eyes, however, didn’t leave Atticus. I watched him closely, hoping to read the thoughts behind his icy expression.

With each sway of my hips and each flick of my hair, I noted the subtle changes in his demeanor. At first, he seemed indifferent, but I could see the tightening of his jaw, the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt.

I was pushing his buttons, and for that, I felt a small sense of victory.

But I also felt a pang of something deeper—something that twisted in my stomach.

And no matter how much I tried to disconnect, I could still sense his eyes piercing through me, weighing me, judging me.

When the music—imaginary or… not—finally faded, I stopped, breathing heavily. My body was on fire, and I knew I had given them a show to remember. The laughter and catcalls echoed around me, but I only focused on Atticus.

I met his gaze, silently challenging him to react.

He did nothing, but for once, he averted his gaze from mine.

Soon, it was time for their meal and the maids began serving, me included. It was strange to think I was now nothing more than a servant, a tool for their amusement.

When I got to Logan, he leaned back in his chair, looking at me with a predatory grin.

“Hey, pour me some more of that soup, would you, Hera?”

I moved to him, pouring the steaming liquid into his bowl.

“You know, Atticus,” Logan began to speak. “Since you are just keeping Hera around to secure your throne, why not let us take turns with her? I hear there’s no better way to tame a bitch than that. And from what I’ve been told, she’s quite submissive in bed.”

His words dripped with malice, and my blood boiled.

And to top it off, he punctuated his disgusting statement with a slap on my ass.

My anger tipped over the edge and I dived right into a plethora of fury.

“Fuck you!” I snapped.

And before I could stop myself, I poured the pot of scorching hot soup over his head, his screams of agony bringing a wide, satisfied smile to the corners of my lips.