Chapter 3: Freedom's Price
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Lyralei's fingers dug deeper into Theron's balls, feeling him tremble beneath her grip. His face had gone from red to white, sweat beading on his forehead as he struggled not to move, not to breathe too hard, not to give her any single reason to squeeze harder.
He looked terrifying in a way she'd never seen before. Not the confident predator who'd tormented her for years. This Theron looked like he was about to break. Like he was moments away from begging.
"Don't you dare move," she said loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Not a single f*****g inch."
Behind her, she heard the Ravenwoods calling out to her. Her uncle's voice, sharp and panicked. "Lyralei, stop this madness! You're disgracing the family name!"
Her aunt's higher pitched cry. "Think of what you're doing! They'll kill you for this!"
Cousin Elara, the one with the newborn daughter, her voice breaking. "Please, Lyra, please just stop. You're making it worse."
Making it worse. As if anything could be worse than the life that had been planned for her.
Alpha Aldric's voice cut through the chaos like a blade. "Release my son this instant, or I swear by the Moon Goddess herself, I will have your head for this."
Something inside Lyralei shifted at those words. The threat should have scared her. Should have made her reconsider. Instead, it just made her angrier.
She squeezed tighter.
Theron made a sound between a whimper and a choke. His whole body went rigid, his hands reaching out but not quite daring to touch her.
"Please," he gasped out finally. "Please, Lyralei, f*****g please..."
The great hall went silent. Pack members froze mid-step. Guards stopped their advance and even the Ravenwoods fell quiet.
Theron, the perfect heir, the untouchable Alpha's son, was begging.
Lyralei felt a savage satisfaction rush through her veins. She glanced around the hall, taking in the reactions. Most looked horrified, disgusted at her actions. But some faces told a different story. She saw Seraphina with her hand pressed to her mouth, tears streaming down her face but her eyes bright with something that looked like vindication. She saw some of the male warriors, their expressions carefully neutral but something flickering behind their eyes that might have been approval. She saw the omega women, the ones who knew exactly what Theron was, looking at her with a mixture of pity and awe.
They were pleased. They loved what she was doing. But they all knew the same truth, there was no way she was surviving this.
Lyralei almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.
"Stand up," she ordered Theron.
"What?" His voice was hoarse.
"I said stand up." She squeezed again, just a warning. "Or do I need to help you decide?"
Theron struggled to his feet, his movements careful and pained. She kept her grip firm, rising with him, her free hand bracing against his back. The position was awkward but effective.
"Good boy," she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Then she slapped him across the face.
The crack echoed through the hall.
She slapped him again and again, just because she could and because for three years he'd made her feel powerless, and now, for these few precious moments, she held all the power.
"Now walk," she commanded, adjusting her grip. "Slowly. Toward the main doors."
"Lyralei, you can't actually think this will work," Theron said through gritted teeth.
"I swear to the Moon Goddess," she said clearly, "if you make one wrong move or piss me off, I will crush them. Do you understand me? I will make sure the last thing you ever father is a scream of agony."
He whimpered again, and started walking.
The crowd parted as they moved through the hall. Lyralei guided him step by step, grateful that her dress was loose enough to allow movement even if the skirts tangled around her legs sometimes. She kicked the fabric aside impatiently, never loosening her grip on Theron.
They reached the main doors. Someone pushed them open, whether out of shock or fear she didn't know. The night air hit her face, cool and clean after the suffocating heat of the hall.
Behind them, the entire pack followed, spilling out into the courtyard like water through a broken dam. She could hear their footsteps, their whispered conversations and the barely contained rage of some of the guards and warriors who were being held back only by the threat she posed to their future Alpha.
"If anyone so much as nocks an arrow," Lyralei called out, her voice carrying across the courtyard, "the last thing I do before I die will be to make sure Theron never breeds those strong pups you're all so excited about. Do I make myself clear?"
Silence answered her.
She continued backing toward the edge of the courtyard, dragging Theron with her. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her hands shook slightly from adrenaline and fear and the wild, reckless freedom of having nothing left to lose.
They reached the tree line at the edge of the pack grounds. The forest stretched out behind her, dark and full of possibilities. She could hear the guards moving, trying to flank her position while staying out of sight.
"That's far enough," Alpha Aldric's voice rang out. He stepped forward, his face a mask of barely controlled fury. "You've had your fun, girl. But you will not take my son from my sight."
"Then make me a deal," Lyralei said.
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