Chapter 4 PUNISHMENT IN WAITING

VALERIA'S POV

The world around me spun as I tried to process what was happening, the pain in my body a cruel reminder of my reality. My instincts screamed at me to escape, but every movement sent fresh waves of agony rippling through me. I could feel their eyes on me, predatory and filled with malice. Whatever they had planned, it wasn’t going to end well for me. I just knew it.

Desperation fueled my trembling limbs as I tried to drag myself away, inch by agonizing inch. My fingers dug into the cold dirt, the grit biting into my skin, but I didn’t care. I just needed to get away.

“Where do you think you’re going, little rat?” Magnar’s voice was like velvet wrapped around a dagger. Before I could react, his hand shot out, grabbing my arm and yanking me back toward him.

Pain shot through me, but then… something else. The moment his skin touched mine, a surge of shocking energy rippled through my body. It wasn’t pain exactly—it was strange, electric, like tiny lightning bolts coursing under my skin. I gasped, my breath hitching, and for a split second, I saw his wolf flicker in his eyes, golden and menacing, clawing at the surface.

This had never happened before. Magnar had grabbed me, pushed me, hurt me countless times, but I’d never felt this… connection. What was this? My heart pounded in my chest as I looked up at him, confused and terrified, but his expression had changed.

For a brief moment, he froze, his hand still gripping my arm. His brows furrowed, and the cruel grin he always wore faltered. He blinked, almost as if something startled him, but then the darkness returned.

“Boys, wait,” Magnar growled suddenly, his voice sharp and commanding. The others stopped, their jeering and laughter cutting off abruptly as they turned to him. "The sun is about to rise. That means we must go for training, or else my father, Alpha Dimitri, will make us experience true hell."

Alpha Magnus was telling the truth. Alpha Dimitri is a 100% brutal wolf; I witnessed him snap my parents' necks without hesitation, his gaze devoid of any emotion except excitement. The bloody scent turned him into a king.

But only I know that Magnus is also lying. Everyone fears Alpha Dimitri, but not including Alpha Magnus. Yet our touch has confused us both. I pray it's not what I imagine; tonight at midnight, I'll get away from everyone.

Magnus turned his gaze towards me again, and for a fleeting moment, an inscrutable expression flashed across his face. It wasn't pity—impossible—but it also wasn't the usual sadistic glee.

“Consider this a warning, Valeria,” he said coldly. “Next time, you won’t be so lucky.”

Lucky? Did he really think this was luck? My body ached, my mind was reeling, and I couldn’t even begin to understand what had just happened. All I could do was curl up on the ground, too exhausted and broken to move as they turned and walked away, their laughter fading into the early dawn.

But something inside me had shifted. Those strange, shocking waves I felt when Magnar touched me… They meant something. I didn’t know what yet, but I had a feeling it was just the beginning of something much bigger.

I staggered to my feet after they left, my body aching and my mind a whirlwind of fear and confusion. I didn’t have the luxury of processing what had just happened—not with the day already creeping closer and the risk of punishment looming if I didn’t show up on time. Dragging myself forward, I made my way back to the slave quarters, every step a reminder of how broken I felt inside and out.

The basement of the packhouse was where we were kept—out of sight, out of mind. It was practical, they said, so we could wake early and start our work without disturbing the rest of the pack. Convenient for them. For us, it was just another reminder of how low we stood in their eyes and especially me, I sometimes feel that it is because there is a deeper reason for it.

The small, dim room was cold and unwelcoming, lined with thin mattresses pushed against the walls. We shared the space, but not our lives at least not anymore. Talking was forbidden, and so was looking at one another for too long. In ten years of living here, I didn’t know the names of most of the others except Freya. We weren’t allowed to connect, bond, or find even the smallest comfort in one another.

By the time I stumbled inside, others were already stirring, stretching stiff limbs and preparing for another day of servitude. Their blank expressions told me everything I needed to know—none of us expected anything different.

I didn’t dare linger. Today was my turn for kitchen duty, and that meant I had to move fast. Any delay could mean another round of punishment, and I couldn’t take that—not after what had just happened.

The kitchen was already calling my name as I shuffled upstairs. It was still dark, but that didn’t matter. Breakfast needed to be ready before the pack started their day. I started pulling out ingredients and organizing the space, my movements automatic after years of repetition.

Fifty pancakes. Twenty-seven coffees. Three almond milks. Ten black teas without sugar, and ten with sugar. I repeated the orders silently as I worked, ensuring I wouldn’t forget a single thing.

Some mornings, Luna and her friends would come in and take over the kitchen duties. On those days, we were relegated to cleaning up after everyone had eaten, scrubbing their plates and wiping the tables. But today wasn’t one of those mornings. Today, it was all me.

As I worked, my body screamed in protest with every movement, but I pushed through it. There was no time for weakness. Weakness meant more punishment, and I’d already had my fill for the day.

The first light of dawn seeped through the small window over the sink, casting the room in a pale glow. The house was beginning to stir above me. Footsteps echoed faintly in the halls, voices murmuring as the pack started to wake.

I flipped another pancake, the scent of cooking batter filling the air. My stomach growled, but I ignored it. We weren’t allowed to eat until after everyone else had finished, and even then, it was whatever scraps were left over.

As I worked, I couldn’t help but think about what had happened with Magnar. The strange waves I felt when he touched me, the way his expression had changed for just a moment—it didn’t make sense. I’d never felt anything like that before.

But it wasn’t safe to dwell on it, not now. There were too many eyes, too many ears.