Chapter 3: Payback

“We've been saved by the ShadowClaw Pack!"

”Just moments ago, we were racking our brains about how to contact Arthur's people, and now this feels like a dream come true!"

"Even though they came earlier than expected, as long as they're here, the Moon Pack has a chance."

My father and stepmother's ecstatic voices echoed in my ears, sounding ethereal while I began to wake. I felt like I was floating as I regained consciousness.

Unable to sit up, I could only open my eyes, but once I got a good look at my surroundings, I was completely confused. No longer was I in the dungeon. Somehow, I was back in my room.

Nearby servants told me that Anthony, the Beta of the ShadowClaw Pack, had rescued me. Their words sounded ghostly and surreal as I tried to make sense of what had happened.

So, it wasn’t a hallucination that someone had whisked me away from that whipping. Beta Anthony had been my savior, and now our whole family was eagerly welcoming him.

I was both relieved and nervous.

I peered out of my bedroom door, careful not to be seen. I could only catch a few glimpses of movement before my stepmother entered the room. She snapped her fingers at the servants.

"Get her up and dressed. We don't need Beta Anthony seeing her wounds," she insisted quietly. Then she turned to me.

I pursed my lips fearfully.

"You are not to leave your room. We can't upset Anthony."

Her left eyebrow arched as she glared at me. I opened my mouth to ask what she meant, but she dashed off to greet the Beta. Weakly, I stood as our servants helped me into my clothes. They dressed me up, making sure that my bruises were not showing.

I watched through the door as my family excessively fawned over Anthony, trying to please him. This was their time to shine. Abusers put on their best faces to keep their images untarnished. I had witnessed it many times in my life, and this was no different.

But that was the thing. It wasn't often that we had visitors at our Moon Pack, and they were out of practice. My family was so used to having the freedom to behave abusively that it was hard for them to know what to do in another respectable person's presence, especially concerning me.

"It's such an honor to have you here!" I heard my father say with overt enthusiasm.

I watched him go out of his way to greet Anthony with bows and handshakes. It was a little sad how far he was taking things to appease their guest.

Anthony sidled to the table, eyeing everyone as my stepmother and Margaret brought out the finest dishes, personally wiping the chairs for him, all the while spouting insincere words.

"We're so glad you've finally come to see us! Anything you want, just ask!"

I clenched my jaw, feeling bitter and trembling in pain.

It was pathetic how disgraceful they were behaving. In a split second, they had no problem becoming sycophant boot lickers for Anthony, all because he was going to give them money.

"It's amazing that we have this union between us. With a single word, your Alpha Arthur can revive our entire Moon Pack, financially that is. Your presence proves your power, but we are so far removed from your world. We don't seem to have the same reach as your pack does." My father chuckled awkwardly.

Anthony barely raised his eyes to meet my father’s. He politely smiled at their efforts. He knew his pack was respected in every circle. This seemed to be a conversation that was commonplace for him.

It made sense, after all. ShadowClaw was the strongest, most wealthy pack.

Instead of engaging in a mundane discussion with them about their different stations in life, Anthony turned to my father with a skeptical raise of his eyebrows. He pointed toward my bedroom.

"What happened to Ophelia? Those are not ordinary wounds." His face was serious as he kept his eyes on my father's.

I could tell Anthony was not one who was easily fooled, and he wasn't about to let my father off the hook.

"Oh, that?” my father began, clearly uncomfortable, his brow furrowed. I could see him formulating the easiest lie he could come up with. “Ophelia fell down the stairs. She can be really clumsy." My father nodded one too many times.

He was totally transparent, and Anthony saw through his guise.

"I don't believe you," Anthony said with a quick tilt of his head. "These marks look more like injuries caused by purposely whipping her. In fact, I came in the nick of time to rescue her from a lashing," he added. "How do you explain that?"

My stepmother impulsively chimed in, "Well, she deserved it. She was caught stealing and needed a bit of discipline, though perhaps we went too far. Surely, you can understand that being a Beta. Some things are necessary, are they not?"

I felt sick looking at her fake smile and pitiful eyes. What a phony. I waited in suspense, my heart pounding, to see how Anthony would respond. What was he going to say to them? Would he take them at their word?

Finally, he broke the silence. "Very well," he replied, but it didn't sound like praise or acceptance, more like a dismissal.

It was clear he didn't feel an ounce of respect for my stepmother from his lack of affect. She looked uneasy, probably regretting her words, while my father remained confident. Knowing him, he likely believed that beating me was a trivial matter, and as long as they explained themselves, wealth and prosperity awaited them.

How gluttonous they were. I cringed at the very sight of them.

***

Later, my stepmother led my father upstairs to begin discussing my departure with Anthony. I could hear their hushed voices outside my bedroom.

"It's time for us to hand over Ophelia," my stepmother said. "I can't wait! What riches await us! I—”

"You fool!' my father snapped in a fierce whisper, cutting her off.

I startled in fear, watching him step closer to her as he continued, "You made us look like we're barbarians compared to this posh pack. Why did you have to make up that story about stealing? Now we have to maintain the lie and try to regain our position. You should have followed my lead!"

"How—” my stepmother whined, but I knew that my father had turned his back on her.

I listened more intently to hear if she had anything meaningful to say but no excuse was going to be good enough.

I was glad that trading me for money wasn't going to be the smooth transaction they had expected.

After they walked off in a huff, I heard Anthony coming up the stairs to my room. I held my chest in anticipation, feeling uneasy. Stepping in quietly, he glanced at me.

"Ophelia," he began. I inhaled deeply, a nervous trickle of sweat sliding down my back. I turned to look at him. "I'm ready to take you to your new home. Arthur is waiting."

I nodded and bowed my head once to him. As I stood up, my legs were aching so much that my knees nearly buckled. He swiftly moved to me, holding me up to keep me from falling.

"Can you not walk?" His deep voice was full of concern as he studied my posture, his arms supporting me.

"I don't think so," I whimpered in anguish.

The slightest bit of weight on my feet made me feel faint. The beatings I had endured over the past few days had taken their toll, and I was out of energy.

Anthony clenched his teeth in outrage. "I can't believe your parents would beat their own daughter so harshly. What are they, a bunch of psychopaths?"

He turned to me in question, his eyebrows arched in anger. I shook my head.

“I don’t know.” I forced myself not to cry as he searched my face.

"Tell me what happened. Why did they do this to you?"

I remained silent, unsure of how to answer. After what had happened with David, I'd had my fill of deceptive wolves. What if Anthony was just as two-faced? I was being sold to their pack, after all, not going willingly.

Until I saw otherwise, I decided I would remain on guard.

Anthony must have sensed my hesitation. I was relieved when he didn't press further; instead, he enlisted the assistance of two servants.

"Please, help Ophelia down the stairs," he said to them.

They nodded and began to aid me, walking me step by step to the door.

My careful trek soon became another dramatic encounter as I saw my stepmother and father walking upstairs to check on me. My stomach churned with anxiety. I couldn't take much more of them.

Anthony was not impressed. In response to their unwanted attention, he took charge and pointed at them.

"You two, wait outside! I’m tired of your interference. And as for the rest of the Moon Pack, go join them." His voice was cold as he uttered the command. "Servants, close the door. Nobody is coming back in until I say so!"

I watched in wonder as they obeyed Anthony's words. He was protecting me, forcing my family to remain barred from their own home. It wasn't often I was in this position.

It felt good.

Shortly after, it started to rain heavily outside. I could see it coming down in sheets as it pounded upon the windows. My stepmother, father, Margaret, David, Mike, and several other servants were all waiting outside for me to pack my bags.

The hammering droplets doused the eaves, pouring in torrents. I glanced at Anthony's immovable stance, listening to the wind pick up.

I realized that I was feeling curious... maybe even slightly comforted in his presence. At least I was away from the people who accosted me daily.

***

Anthony intentionally made them wait outside in the pouring rain for a good half an hour. All the while, we remained in the dry house, gathering my things. I watched my family members out the window, checking on them every so often.

Apparently, my stepmother was unable to bear it any longer since she was the first to attempt to regain entry. She began to pound on the door, pleading. It was a desperate sound as she rapped upon the wood. I continued to spy on them.

“Anthony! We’re sorry. Please, let us back in,” she cried.

Anthony was not moved.

"Mike," I heard my father begin as the rain gushed down the driveway. He then ordered, "Ask Anthony what the meaning of this is!”

“What good do you think that will do?” Mike asked as he trembled from the cold.

I could see them all glancing at one another. Even if Anthony unlocked the door, I doubted they would enter. There were other doors to the house but they weren’t even trying them.

They were so afraid of Anthony that they dared not to enter their own home. I watched as the rain soaked them all, and a small smile played at the corners of my mouth.

“Just do it!” my father shouted.

“Anthony!” I heard Mike shout. “Let us in!” His voice was loud, but I could tell he was afraid and insecure.

Anthony glanced at me and asked, “What do you think? Do you want them to come in?”

There was no question about it. “No. Make them wait!’

I wasn’t a fool nor was I born yesterday. I had some leverage and was going to use it.

My entire pack, even my fated mate, had tormented and held me against my will—Margaret with her beatings, Mike with his attempted rapes, not to mention my stepmother’s icy emotional abuse. Then there was my father, who made me feel like the dirt he scraped off his shoe compared to my stepsister.

After all the harm they’d inflicted on me, why should I help them?