Before I could finish speaking, the whip cracked again. A burning pain ripped across my cheek. My hand flew up without thinking. When I looked at my fingers, they were covered in blood. A deep cut had split my cheek open.
"So, you want this to become a public punishment? Keep getting in the way, and you'll regret it."
My stomach tightened into a knot. I knew exactly what that threat meant. The last time it happened... it had taken me weeks to heal. The scars were still carved across my back.
"He wasn't trying to be rude. He was only joking... he's just a child. You wouldn't..."
Another strike lashed across my arm. Pain shot through me and forced me to grimace. Before I could recover, a fist slammed straight into my jaw.
The impact threw my head to one side. I staggered backward with the taste of blood filling my mouth. Then I lowered my eyes and gave in. Nothing mattered more than making sure Freddie stayed safe.
Behind me, I felt his trembling hands clutch the back of my shirt.
"Take her to the tribunal!"
For a second, my heart seemed to stop beating.
I leaned closer to Freddie and spoke in a hurried whisper.
"Go home. Stay inside with Mom. Don't open the door for anyone."
The moment the words left my mouth, rough hands grabbed me. Two werewerewolves seized my arms and pulled me away. I twisted just enough to catch one last glimpse of Freddie running toward our neighborhood. A small smile touched my lips. At least he was safe.
Then terror swallowed me whole.
They dragged me all the way to the tribunal while more and more people stopped to watch. Most of them were humans who had no choice but to witness scenes like this. Some couldn't bear to look and turned away. Others stayed where they were, unable to do anything.
They forced me onto the platform. My wrists were bound to a wooden post, and someone shoved a leather strap between my teeth for me to bite on.
I already knew what was about to happen.
The Lycans never started until enough people had gathered to watch.
Once they were satisfied with the size of the crowd, my tormentor stretched out his claws and ripped my shirt away in one quick motion. The scars covering my back were exposed for everyone to see. Murmurs spread through the crowd, followed by a few sharp gasps. Some of them recognized me.
Then the first strike came down.
Even with the leather clenched between my teeth, I couldn't keep a muffled cry from escaping.
The lashes kept coming, one after another without mercy.
By the twentieth strike, my whole body was shaking uncontrollably. Every lash brought back the pain with even greater force. I didn't have to look to know that blood was slowly pooling beneath me.
They usually stopped after fifteen.
This time, they didn't.
When the twenty-ninth lash landed, my arms could no longer hold me up. My weight sagged against the restraints. Every bit of strength had left my body, and I couldn't understand why they still hadn't stopped.
At last, the final strike ripped through the air. A low groan slipped from my throat, and the leather strap dropped from my mouth onto the platform.
They released the ropes around my wrists. The moment I was free, my legs gave way beneath me. I crumpled onto the platform as blood slowly spread underneath my body.
Around here, no one thought much about nudity. The werewolves simply didn't care. Whenever they shifted into their wolf forms, their clothes were destroyed, and when they turned human again, they came back without anything covering them. Because of that, being exposed had become something people treated as normal.
Even so, the shame still burned.
I lay there, gasping for air while trying to cover myself. Before I could, a foot slammed into me.
"This is what happens when you forget your place. Wolves rule this land, and you will show us the respect we deserve. Do you understand?"
Only a few weak voices answered.
Someone grabbed my hair and dragged me off the platform. My bare arms scraped across the ground, tearing open some of my wounds again.
Not a single person stepped forward.
Everyone waited until the werewolves were gone.
Only then did someone come over. A warm blanket settled across my back, and two men carefully helped me to my feet.
"Dylan?!"
Slowly, I turned my head despite how heavy my eyes felt. It was Nick. My best friend.
"What did you do this time?"
I could barely force the words out.
"I was protecting Freddie..."
He didn't need to hear anything else. He simply nodded in understanding.
My name was Dylan Riley. I was seventeen years old. My hair was brown, almost black. My eyes were brown too. I wasn't very tall. I was only about five foot six. I still attended high school whenever I was able to.
Freddie was only six years old. Somehow, he always managed to find trouble.
Our father... the Lycans killed him five years ago after they took over our town. He was one of the people who fought back. In the end, it changed nothing.
I watched him die.
Two werewolves in their full forms tore him apart. I was the one who pulled the trigger and ended his suffering before they dragged me away.
I was only twelve the first time they chained me to that post.
From that day on, they never truly left me in peace.
But enough about that...
I went back to what had happened.
"Is Freddie alright?" Nick asked.
I gave him a weak nod while my legs threatened to buckle beneath me.
The two men holding me up guided me to the human clinic. Sheila was already there. The instant she saw me, she hurriedly cleared everything off her treatment table.
They carefully lowered me onto my stomach.
As soon as she pulled the blanket away, she stopped for a brief moment. Then she rushed to gather everything she needed.
Until then, the shock had kept most of the pain away. Now it all came crashing back at once. I couldn't stop the groans that escaped my lips.
"I'm going to put you to sleep for a little while," she said quickly.
A sharp prick pierced the area below my shoulder.
Then darkness swallowed everything.
I woke with a sudden jolt. I was still groggy as I slowly pushed myself upright. My neck throbbed after spending so long lying face down on a wooden table that felt as hard as stone. My back burned as though flames were still running across it. Looking down, I found thick bandages wrapped tightly around my torso, covering the damaged skin beneath them.
Outside the window, the sun had begun to rise. The sky glowed with shades of orange, and soft morning light slowly spread through the room. After taking a deep breath, I carefully lowered my feet to the floor. The moment I put my weight on them, my legs started shaking and almost gave out.
A glass of water rested on a nearby table. Without thinking, I reached for it and emptied it in one long drink, as if I hadn't touched water in days. That was when it hit me. I needed to get to school. I quickly wrote a note for Sheila to thank her and let her know where I was going. Then I headed out.
Getting back to the house felt like the longest walk of my life. Every step pulled painfully at my back. As soon as I arrived home, I went straight to my room and changed into my school uniform.