The Broken Luna's Second Chance

The cold stone beneath my knees bit through my torn dress as Marcus dragged me across the pack square. Dawn was breaking over Shadow Pack territory, painting the sky the color of dried blood—how fitting. My wrists burned where his claws had dug in, but that pain was nothing compared to what was coming.

"Everyone out!" Marcus's voice boomed across the square, echoing off the surrounding buildings like thunder. "Every member of Shadow Pack will witness this!"

Pack members stumbled from their homes, some still in nightclothes, their faces a mixture of curiosity and dread. I kept my eyes fixed on the ground, watching droplets of my own blood fall onto the ancient stones. Each drop felt like a countdown to my destruction.

The whipping post stood in the center of the square like a monument to suffering. How many others had been broken against its weathered wood? How many had begged for mercy that never came?

Marcus's grip tightened as he hauled me to my feet. "Look at them," he snarled in my ear, his breath hot against my neck. "Look at your pack. See how they stare at their failed Luna."

I lifted my head slowly, meeting the eyes of wolves I'd once considered family. Elena, the baker's daughter, covered her mouth in horror. Old Thomas, who'd taught me to hunt, looked away in shame. Children clung to their mothers' skirts, sensing the violence that was about to unfold.

"Strip her," Marcus commanded.

My heart hammered against my ribs. "Marcus, please—"

His backhanded slap sent stars exploding across my vision. "You lost the right to speak my name the day you failed to give me an heir."

Rough hands tore at my dress, the fabric giving way with sickening ease. The morning air hit my bare skin like ice, and I heard the collective intake of breath from the crowd. They could see everything now—every scar, every mark of Marcus's previous "lessons." The crescent-shaped bite on my shoulder from our mating ceremony, now twisted with scar tissue. The thin white lines across my ribs where his claws had "corrected" my behavior. The burn mark on my lower back from when I'd dared to question his decisions.

I was a map of his cruelty, displayed for all to see.

"Behold your Luna," Marcus announced, his voice dripping with disgust. "Four years of marriage, and what does she have to show for it? No children. No strength. No worth whatsoever."

He bound my wrists to the post with silver-laced rope that burned my skin on contact. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, tasting copper as my teeth broke through flesh.

"One hundred lashes," Marcus declared, and the crowd fell silent. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath. "For every month she has failed to conceive, she will receive the punishment she deserves."

The silver-tipped whip sang through the air before I saw it move. The first strike landed across my shoulders, and the world exploded into