Muscle wasting. Repeated lash trauma. Most of these wounds are layered-old and new. Someone wasn’t just punishing her. They were making a point.”
Kael couldn’t feel his hands.
His fists clenched. Then released. Then clenched again.
“She was in prison,” he whispered. “She was just a girl…”
“She still is.”
Kael staggered back a step.
“What do we do?” he croaked. “Can her leg… can it be saved?”
Theo shook his head.
“Too late. That damage is permanent. Three years ago-maybe. But now?” He exhaled shakily. “There’s nothing I can do but stop it from getting worse.”
Kael stared into nothing.
He didn’t even hear Theo leave.
By the time he sank into the chair, he was trembling.
He fumbled for a cigarette, but his fingers shook so hard he couldn’t light it.
The lighter fell to the floor with a hollow clatter.
Finally, Kael crushed the cigarette between his fingers and buried his head in his hands, breathing like a man suffocating under guilt.
He stayed like that for a long, long time.
Then, slowly, he sat up.
Face pale.
Jaw clenched.
Eyes like ice.
He grabbed his phone, dialed a number with mechanical precision.
“Luca,” he said, voice flat and emotionless, “I want a full report on Riley’s time in prison. I don’t care how long it takes or what it costs. I want everything-every name, every day, every injury.”
He paused.
Then added, cold as death:
“Leave nothing out.”
Third Person’s POV
After ending the call, Kael Vale sat stiffly in the high-backed leather chair in his study. The lights were dim, but his thoughts were darker.
He had just learned what truly happened to Riley during her five years in the rogue prison.
And it was worse than anything he could’ve imagined.
He stood up slowly, as if gravity had doubled its pull on him. Step by step, he walked to the door of the guest room-his room now, where Riley lay unconscious, healing.
But he couldn’t bring himself to open it.
That single door might as well have been a mountain. A barrier between his cowardice and her pain.
She had always been a problem to him.
A burden.
A Broken Alpha Heiress’s Revenge
A threat to Scarlett’s place.
So why was his chest tightening like his wolf was clawing at his ribs?
Just then, a young servant wolf came running. “Alpha Kael, the banquet is starting. The Luna’s celebration is about to begin.”
Scarlett’s birthday banquet.
Kael closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded.
He turned and left Riley behind again.
The ballroom inside the Ebonclaw mansion gleamed like a dream. Light from hundreds of crystal orbs rained down in gold hues. The air was thick with perfume, status, and perfectly polite deception.
Scarlett stood at the center, wearing a shimmering pale pink gown. Her golden hair curled like a doll’s, and her smile was delicate and soft. She was surrounded by noble wolves-Alphas, Betas, even pack Elders.
All of them adoring her.
All of them blind.
She blew out the candles on a six-tiered cake shaped like a blooming moonflower. Glittering ribbon cannons exploded, and the room erupted in applause.
Kael stood in the crowd.
But all he could see was Riley.
Curled up on that narrow bed. Her body frail. Her leg bent at a painful, unnatural angle.
He reached for a glass of sparkling wolfwine and downed it in one gulp.
Then another.
And another.
The laughter faded around him. Every cheer felt like claws against his ears. His vision blurred, and his feet grew heavy.
Stumbling out of the hall, he found his way to a washroom and collapsed over the sink, emptying his stomach.
He stared at his reflection-wet hair, pale skin, haunted eyes.
“You didn’t do this,” he whispered to himself. “You didn’t hurt her.”
But that was a lie.
He’d let them.
He turned on the tap, washing cold water over his face until his skin stung.
Then his phone rang.
Luca.
Kael snatched it up. “Talk.”
“I have the full report,” Luca said, voice low. “But… Alpha, you might want to sit.”
“I’m standing. Say it.”
Luca hesitated, then began.
“Riley was regularly beaten. Slapped. Denied sleep. Forced to drink toilet water. They made her crawl through dominance rituals. Sometimes they’d stab her with silver needles meant for embroidery training. When she disobeyed… they broke her.”
Kael’s fists clenched.
“Needles?” he bit out.
“They had her doing ‘rehabilitation work’ in the stitching units. That’s where they came from.”
“Go on.”
“The worst incident-six wooden batons, thicker than a grown male’s forearm. Snapped across her legs. Her tibia was shattered. She was hospitalized, barely conscious.”
Kael’s jaw clenched so tight, his teeth groaned under pressure. His claws unsheathed without him realizing it.
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