When The Alpha King Chose Me – “Ahh!” A sharp cry escaped my lips as I darted in front of my brother, just in time to shield him from the lashing that had been aimed at him. “That kid just disrespected the Alpha of your sector’s pack. Step aside.” One of the pack warriors stood there gripping a thick, coiled whip, his eyes flicking from me to where my brother cowered behind me. “He’s only six! He didn’t mean to—” My words were cut short by another loud SNAP, and a searing pain flared across my cheek. My hand flew up instinctively, and when I pulled it back, my fingertips were streaked with blood. My face was bleeding. “You want this handled in public? Because that’s exactly where this is heading if you don’t move aside, human.” I didn’t want another punishment. The last one had been nearly two months ago, and I’d barely recovered. My back was already a mess of scars.
“He wasn’t being disrespectful. He was just playing. He’s a little kid—do you really want to sink that low—?” Another brutal crack silenced me as the whip lashed my arm. I barely had time to register the pain before the lycan’s fist slammed into my jaw. I staggered back, spitting blood from my mouth as I bowed my head in submission. It was the only way to keep my brother safe. I felt his tiny hands clutch at the hem of my shirt, trembling with fear. “To the courtyard!” The command snapped through the air, making my head jerk up in alarm. “Go home, lock the doors, and stay with Mom,” I whispered to my brother. Before I could even finish, two wolves grabbed me by the arms and started dragging me away. I looked over my shoulder, just long enough to see Rhett running back toward our house in the human district. Relief washed over me for a moment—he was safe. But it didn’t last.
I was hauled through town, people stopping to stare as I was dragged up onto the stage in the center of the courtyard. My wrists were strapped to a post, and a thick strip of leather was shoved into my mouth to bite down on.s were always forced to watch these public floggings. It didn’t matter if you were the one being punished or not—it was traumatizing either way. Once the lycans decided the crowd was big enough, the punisher unsheathed his claws and shredded my shirt, revealing my already scarred back to the gathering. A few gasps echoed through the crowd—some recognized me. Then came the first lash. By the twentieth strike, I was shaking uncontrollably. My back was on fire, and I didn’t even need to see it to know I was bleeding heavily. Fifteen was the usual number of lashes, so I had no idea why they were going so far. At the twenty-ninth stroke, my body gave out.
I slumped forward, barely keeping upright. I had taken nearly double the normal punishment, and I couldn’t understand why. The final lash cracked through the air, and a dull grunt escaped me as the leather strap fell from my mouth to the wooden floor. My wrists were unbound, and I collapsed instantly, blood dripping onto the stage beneath me. One thing you should know—wolves don’t really care about nudity. When they shift, their clothes rip apart, and they’re left naked when they return to human form. So having my torso exposed wasn’t even unusual by their standards. I lay there, gasping, trying to shield my bare chest when I felt a boot press hard into my already torn-up back. “This is what happens when humans forget their place. Werewolves are the dominant species, and you will show respect. IS THAT CLEAR?” A few quiet “yes” responses murmured through the crowd before someone grabbed a handful of my hair and tossed me off the stage. My arms scraped the ground and fresh blood poured from the new wounds.
No one dared move to help until all the wolves had left the stage. The fear of being next kept them frozen. Finally, I felt a warm coat drape over my back, and two men gently lifted me to my feet. “Liora!?” I turned my head weakly toward the familiar voice—Zane Hollowell, my best friend. “What the hell did you do?” Still supported between the two men, I whispered, “Rhett.” He gave me a small nod, understanding without needing further explanation. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let me introduce myself. I’m Liora Vale, seventeen years old. My hair is a deep brunette, almost black, and my eyes are pretty plain—just brown. I’m about five-foot-six and a high school student. Rhett is my six-year-old little brother, and I’m constantly pulling him out of trouble—like today. Our dad was killed by them—the lycans—five years ago when they first took over. When they broke through into our town, my dad joined a group of locals who tried to fight back. It was hopeless. I watched with my own eyes as two full-shifted wolves tore him apart. I had to shoot him myself, just to end his suffering. That same day, they dragged me to the courtyard and gave me the first public lashing this town had ever seen.
I was twelve. They’ve kept a close eye on me ever since. Anyway, back to what happened. “Is Rhett okay?” I asked Zane with a nod, my head barely able to stay up before my knees buckled. The men rushed me to Nora, the human nurse for our district. She cleared her exam table in an instant, and I was laid face-down onto it. She gently removed the coat from my back, then gasped and dashed around to gather supplies. The numbing pain started to turn sharp again, and I let out a few ragged moans as my body trembled from the shock. “I’m giving you something for the pain,” she said. I felt the sting of a needle in my shoulder blade, and then—just like that—everything went numb. And the world faded to black.