CHAPTER FIVE
She’d worked on that painting all day—without eating, barely drinking. And now, it was in ruins.
“You are not permitted to indulge in meaningless distractions,” he snapped. “You’ll follow the rules here. No exceptions.”
Celeste’s pride, though tattered, still flickered to life. Even as the torn scraps of her art floated to the floor like ash, she stood her ground.
Without her wolf, painting had given her some semblance of purpose. It was now gone too. Her voice, laced with desperation, erupted. “Then send me to the dungeon already!”
Kaelin flinched but concealed a satisfied smile. Celeste was playing with fire, and Kaelin hoped she’d get burned. Even though Thorne had formally rejected Celeste, Kaelin couldn’t shake the insecurity her presence stirred.
After all, Alpha Thorne was Kaelin’s second chance mate. The fact that neither of them had been paired again by the moon goddess haunted her constantly.
She’d dreamed of being Thorne’s mate since turning eighteen. They’d trained together, bled together. But he had been too consumed by grief—first over his murdered parents, then over his slain human mate. The perpetrator had never been caught.
Celeste felt the weight of Alpha Thorne’s stare digging into her skin. Slowly, she backed away.
She had encountered many alphas in her lifetime, but none whose gaze could reduce her to silence like his. It wasn’t just the rejection—it was the raw, violent power he carried with every breath.
Perhaps it was understandable; without her wolf, she was just a human. But why hadn’t Alpha Alaric or any other Alpha affected her this way?
“You don’t get to make demands,” Thorne snapped. “Eat.”
Kaelin remained motionless, watching with anticipation. She silently hoped he would give her the order to eliminate Celeste. She’d never allow Thorne’s heart to soften, not for a woman who had already lost everything.
“No,” Celeste spat, defiant. “I won’t be your puppet. I won’t let you torment me for fun. If I’m going to die, I’ll do it on my terms. I choose to starve.”
Alpha Thorne’s eyes darkened. In a flash, he crossed the room and slammed her against the wall. His hand gripped her jaw, tightening just enough to make her wince.
Her heart pounded erratically, each beat like a drum of defiance, but her limbs trembled. She hadn’t eaten all day, and the weakness was taking over.
Still, she refused to cry. She shut her eyes, willing herself to be strong—even in his overpowering presence.
“You don’t get to choose how you die,” he growled. His voice dropped, low and venomous. “I decide that.”
He paused before continuing with chilling clarity, “I’ve got other matters to handle. You’ll stay alive until I find time to deal with you… properly.”
Just like that, he stepped away, as though nothing had happened. But the fire in his eyes lingered.
“Kaelin. Feed her.”
Kaelin approached with slow, purposeful steps, lifting the lid of the food warmer and twirling a forkful of steaming noodles. She moved toward Celeste, bringing it close to her lips.
But Celeste slapped the utensil away. The noodles spilled onto the floor.
Thorne’s expression grew darker.
“You really wish to die that badly?”
With her chin raised, Celeste nodded.
She had already lost everything—her father, her rank, her pack. Her mother had died giving birth to Brielle, leaving a hole in her heart that had never closed. Now, with no hope in sight, she welcomed death.
But Thorne shocked her with his next words.
“Kaelin, leave the food. Fetch me hot coals.”
Panic surged through Celeste as Kaelin smirked and hurried out. She hadn’t imagined that death would come this way—not by fire. A swift death, yes. Not this.
Her shoulders shook. “What are you going to do with those coals?” she whispered.
Thorne didn’t answer. Instead, he lit a cigarette.
When Celeste began to cough from the smoke, he rolled his eyes and walked off toward the bathroom.
She watched in disbelief as he returned—without the cigarette.
“You threw it away… because I coughed?” she asked, confused and stunned by the odd kindness.
He scoffed. “You think far too highly of yourself.”
Without another word, he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her outside the room.
Kaelin returned, followed by two warriors hauling a metal tray filled with glowing, red-hot coals.
Despite Thorne’s casual attire, his icy tone sent a chill down her spine.
“Put it down,” he commanded.
The warriors obeyed. Thorne pointed at the coals.
“Step on it.”
“What?” Celeste gasped. Horror etched across her face.
“You wished for death,” he said, unmoved.
“This is the only way I’m willing to grant it.”
Celeste staggered back, her chest tight with terror.
She had grasped the truth: Thorne intended to give her a horrific, slow death.
Her throat tightened as she swallowed, then with shaky resolve, she began stepping toward the glowing embers.
The warriors around them shifted uncomfortably—awed and horrified at his cruelty.
Thorne’s reputation was of merciless discipline, yet somehow, they believed his ruthlessness was a proof of care: a twisted calculus, where only suffering could contain disobedience.
Perhaps if Celeste begged, he’d relent—though each silence took her deeper into despair.
Thorne remained stoic, the flickering coals casting shifting shadows across his face. He watched her unblinking, as if waiting for her pride to crumble completely.
Celeste neared the coals; now, so close, she could feel the oppressive heat seeping through her thin flip–flops.
The room’s cold air did nothing to cool the searing anticipation of pain. She tugged off the right shoe, teeth clenched tight.
First contact with the glowing coal sent a ripping agony up her leg; the smell—charred flesh—filled the room.
She pressed harder, forcing herself to bear it.
The pain was excruciating, but she wouldn’t collapse. Not yet.
The surrounding warriors gasped and looked away, wincing.
Kaelin, on the edge of triumph, watched with a tight smile, eager for the sentence to land.
Thorne’s dark eyes gleamed as Celeste tortured herself.
Without Astra, she was painfully human.
Tears pooled behind her eyes. She tried to pull back, but two coals stuck to her sole, each one a burning reminder of her loss.
Her legs trembling, she twisted to pry them off…but the world slid sideways.
She prepared to hit the ground—but strong arms caught her. A comforting warmth surrounded her, and his scent filled the air around her.