Chapter 11
“Bring that bitch out!” Melissa’s voice cuts through the walls like a blade.
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Nana freezes on her bed, pulse racing. Just moments ago, she managed to escape from her and slip into her room. But now… could Melissa have brought the guards? Did she really see the mark? Her stomach twists with panic at the thought of the entire pack finding out.
She scrambles from her bed, hands shaking as she pulls out the little bag of makeup and perfume she’d hidden. Swiftly, she dabs some foundation over the bitemark, praying it’ll hide the evidence. Just as she finishes, the sound of fists pounding on the door jolts her.
“Open up, Nana!” A guard’s voice bellows.
There’s no time. She yanks open the door, stumbling out to face Melissa, her heart hammering in her chest. The guards stand around, some kitchen maids snickering behind them like this is some twisted entertainment.
“W–what’s the problem, Melissa?” Nana manages, her voice shaky. Even with the mark hidden, fear creeps down her spine. If Melissa demands the foundation be wiped off, everything’s over. Marco will know, and the whole pack will turn on her.
Melissa’s smirk widens. “Bring that bitch here and search her body. Every damn inch of it,” she barks to the guards.
Nana flinches, trying to keep her head up. “You don’t have the authority to give orders, Melissa. Just because Marco parades you around doesn’t mean you can boss everyone. I’m still his mate,” she shoots back, desperate to appear confident.
Melissa’s face hardens. “Oh, I think he’ll applaud me when he hears about this,” she sneers, her voice dripping with malice.
Before Nana can move, two guards close in on her, yanking her scarf away and grabbing her arms as they start patting her down like she’s some common
criminal.
“It’s here, my lady,” one of the guards says, scrubbing at the spot on her shoulder where she’d just applied foundation.
Nana’s knees go weak as another guard sniffs her, narrowing his eyes. “And she reeks of expensive perfume.”
Her gaze snaps to Melissa, frustration flaring. “What the hell do you want from me, Melissa? You don’t have anything better to do than torture me?” Her
voice quivers with rage, the wolf inside her itching to lash out, to bite.
Melissa steps forward, her grin twisted with amusement. “You really gonna shift into that pathetic excuse for a wolf and try me?” she taunts. “You know damn well I’d slam you against the wall before you could even blinky.”
Nana’s wolf is weak, worn from weeks of torment, pain burning through her every day. She knows she’s no match for Melissa right now, no matter how badly she wants to fight.
“Can you just leave me the hell alone, Melissa?” she mutters, feeling her strength slipping away.
“Not when you’ve done something that betrays the pack,” Melissa replies, voice icy.
Just then, the guard who went into Nana’s room returns, holding up the little bag of makeup and perfume she’d tried to hide. He holds it up with a sneer. “Found these, my lady.”
Melissa’s laughter rings out, harsh and mocking, “So you stole all this just to get Marco’s attention? Pathetic.”
Nana’s heart sinks, realizing Melissa hadn’t seen the mark after all; she’d only found the makeup and perfume. Relief mingles with humiliation as she feels everyone’s eyes on her, judging, waiting for her to crack.
“I didn’t steal anything,” Nana says, her voice small but defiant.
Melissa steps closer, her eyes narrowing “Oh, really? Then where’d you get the money? We all know you can’t afford things like this, Nana. So, if you didn’t steal it, how the hell did you get it?”
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Chapter 11
Nana’s mind races. She can’t reveal that Felisha gave her the money; that would drag Felisha into this mess, and the pack would turn on her too. Felisha sells hand–knitted goods at the midnight market, trading with nearby packs for small items. It’s her way to survive in this hellhole, and Nana can’t ruin that.
Melissa’s grin returns, triumphant. “Drag her to the pack center. Let’s give her the strokes she deserves for stealing,” she orders, her voice cold and final.
The guards grab Nana’s arms, twisting them behind her back as she struggles, pleading. “I didn’t steal it! Please, I didn’t! This is a mistake!”
But no one listens.
Nana stands there, tied up, wrists bound tight, her heart racing as she faces the guards. Her mind reels, knowing what’s coming – fifty strokes. Her back aches just thinking about it. She grits her teeth, bracing herself, when Marco’s voice booms through the hall.
“What the hell is the ruckus about?” His voice echoes, filling every corner.
Nana’s heart skips, but it’s Melissa who moves first, turning to Marco with a fake sniffle, her face buried in her usual sweet–but–deadly act.
“Babe, you know all I want is to keep the pack’s rules in place,” she says, fake tears streaming down her face. “But she’s crossed the line, mocking me, insulting me.”
she sniffs, practically crawling up Marco’s arm. “She said I’m nothing to you, even though you parade me around.” She clings to him, playing the victim.
Marco shoots Nana a dark glare. “How dare…” he snarts, then softens as he looks back at Melissa, stroking her shoulder in a way that twists Nana’s gut. He’s never looked at her like that, not once, but here he is, comforting a liar right in front of her eyes.
“You know that’s not true,” Marco says to Melissa. “She’s the insignificant one in this pack.” He spits out the words like they’re obvious, a fact. Nana feels a knife twist inside her. She barely breathes.
“But then why is she tied up?” he finally asks, casting a quick glance around.
“She stole perfumes and makeup,” one of the guards answers right away, eager to back Melissa up.
Marco doesn’t even look at Nana. He walks right up to her with that twisted grin, not a flicker of doubt in his eyes. “Going to such desperate lengths to look good for me, huh?” he sneers, stepping in close.
Nana clenches her fists, choking back her rage, just as Marco steps back, suddenly covering his nose. His face twists in disgust.
“But no matter how much perfume you drown yourself in,” he spits, “you still stink with that awful smell.” His words cut like a slap, and she’s too stunned to respond, her whole body rigid as he turns away.
He barely glances at her as he turns to Melissa, reaching for her hand. His voice softens as he speaks to her. “Come on,” he mutters, ignoring Nana like she’s a speck of dust.
He doesn’t even look back as he gives his final command to the guards. “Continue with what you were doing.”
Nana’s heart sinks, feeling like the world is falling apart around her. Março shows not one damn sign that they’re mated. Not one bit.
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