Chapter 147
India’s POV
The maning after, they dragged me back to the basement. My body ached from being crammed in that closet for hours, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the devastation in my heart.
Days burred ingethet in that concrete prison. They fed me just enough to keep me alive, solfshane lacing every meal to keep my wolf subdued. I lost track of time until one afternoon, the Luna returned with a new from of torture.
11 heard your nose is like a cute little wildcats?” She held up a phone screen inches from my fare.
| saw cur old chat messages–Bodrigos texts praising my upturned nose, calling a sexy, comparing me to a wildest. The memory Hit me like a physical blow.
It had been our first anniversary. He’d gives me a red coral bracelet that I’d worn every day since. I’d been so happy, so carefree, that I’d gotten ice cream on my nose while celebrating. He’d kissed it away, laughing at my clumsiness before apologizing that he had pack business that night.
After he left, he’d sent that text:
“Your nose se cute and upturned, like a very little wildcat.
Now his mate pressed the hilt of a silver dagger against that same nose, turning to one of her warriors. “Cor it off.
The warrior hesitated. “Luna, that’s-
“Did I stutter? Her voice tumed deadly. “The whore seduced my mate with her looks. Let’s see how many men
men she can seduce without her pretty little nose”
blood pouring
The pain was indescribable. They held me down as the silver blade sliced through cartilage and flesh. I screamed untill my throat was raw, down my face, choking on the metallic taste. The silver prevented any healing, ensuring the wound would scar permanently-
But she wasn’t done. Over the next week, she systematically destroyed everything Rodrigo had ever complimented about my appearance. My “silly hair” was hacked off in uneven chunks. My “graceful fingers were broken and allowed to heal crooked.
“There,” she said finally, holding up a mirror to show me my reflection. “Look at yourself. See how many men will want you now, you hideous creature.
The woman in the mirror was unrecognizable. Where once there had been beauty, only rain remained. The hole where my nose had been was the worst–a gaping wound that would never properly heal thanks to the wolfsbane, they’d rubbed into it.
*Tai not going to kill you,” the Luna announced, her satisfaction evident. “Death would be too merciful. Live with your ugliness. Let it remind you every day of what happens when you touch what belongs to another.”
They dumped me on the side of a highway, miles from anywhe
anywhere, I dragged myself t
to the nearest town, keeping to shadows, hiding my destroyed fee.
When I finally made it home, my mother’s screams echoed through our small house. She wept until her eyes were swollen shut, holding me as I sobbed our the whole terrible story.
Over the next days, she threw herself into her work with frightening intensity. My mother was gifted with poison–particularly those that worked on werewolves. She created something special: coloress, odorless, and instantly lethal even to the strongest Alpha.
make them pay, she promised, her gentle hands now steady with deadly purpose. “Both of them.”
She used our savings to hire informants, tracking Rodrigo and his mate’s movements. When she learned of their upcoming vacation to a private resort, she began planning her revenge.
But I couldn’t let her risk herself for my mistakes.
The night before she planned to leave, I waited until she was asleep. I took the poison vial from her workshop, along with the travel documents shed prepared. My mother had taught me well over the years–I knew how to move unseen, how to blend with shadows despite my disfigurement.
The resort was beautiful, isolated, perfect for a romantic getaway. I watched them from a distance, my beam turning to stone as I observed their happiness,
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Chapter 147
They laughed over dinner, fed each other dessen, walked hand–in–hand along the beach,
On their last night, I made my move.
The Luna liked to take a moonlight
im alone while Rodrigu showered. I waited in the shadows by the pool, the poison vial cold in my patim. When emerged from the water, reaching for her towel, I was there.
“Remember me?” I pulled back my hood, revealing my mitilated face.
He scream died in her throat as I forced the poison between her lips. It worked exactly as my mother had promised–instant, silent, final. She crumpled to the pool deck, her eyes wide with shock that faded to emptiness.
I should have ran then. Should have disappeared into the night. But I needed Rodrigo to know, needed him to
to understand why.
I was still standing over her body when his Beta found me.
The scandal rocked the werewolf world. A prominent pack’s Lana, murdered by a disfigured witch. The story spread like wildfire, growing more twisted with each telling.
The version people loved most painted me as a seductress who’d used love potions to ensnare an Alpha, then poisoned his mate out of jealousy. In their narrative, Rodrigo was the grieving widower, seeking justice for his beloved Luna.
Every member of the Ironwater Pack howled for my blood. They suggested burning me alive, flaying me, entombing me in concrete and dropping me in the ocean. When it came to torture, werewolves had vivid imaginations.
But I survived.
The night before my execution–they’d settled on burning–Rodrigo came to my cell. He’d arranged for another female prisoner to take my place, someone already condemned whose death would satisfy the bloodthirsty crowd.
saved my life once,” he said, not meeting my eyes. “I owe you that much. We’re even now,
I pointed to the hole where my nose had been. “Even? Can you give me back my face? Can you undo what you did to me? Why d
did you lie to me?”
“My Luna is dead. You got your revenge.” His voice was thick with emotion, his brow furrowed deeply. He couldn’t look directly at my ruined face, his gaze sliding away whenever he tried. “I had my reasons for what I did. Sometimes we don’t have choices.”
Beasons. Choices.
Every man seemed to have his reasons. Just like my father had his reasons for abandoning my mother, for never acknowledging I existed.
“Just go,” Rodrigo said. “Don’t let my people catch you again.”
From that day forward, I wore a mask. The physical scars were bad enough, but the emotional ones can deeper. Trust, love, hope–shed cut those away as thoroughly as she’d carved up my face.
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Crowned by Fate
