Return Of The Rejected Luna Am The Lycan Queen

a could even process the

d. The first crack landed across her back, a sharp wet snap that stole the air from her lungs before the pain even registered. The second cam

r, gripping Elena's chin with ringed finger

eaming just like the rest of them." She spat again, this time square o

e Elena could gather

ouched the ground. "Mrs. Baltimore - Mrs. Silvermore has

er name, once. Now it walked through the door wearing Vivian

fawning smiles. "Mrs. Silvermore, an honour," Mr. Baltimore wheezed,

rning for three years, who had once sworn her loyalty on her mother's grave. Now s

h herself up onto

re she finished the name, driving

e announced brightly, turning to Vivian with an expression

p, the blood soaking through the thin fabric on her back, and

" Vivian said, almost bo

d to fully die. She lifted her head and glared, eyes b

dares to glare at me?" Her voice sharpened, delighted,

ogether into one sound as the whip came down again and again, until El

r ankles, leaving a thin

ermore?" the Baltimores

uction is in one week. I want her completely broken by then.

t if some part of Elena was left she might cause some future trouble. Easier to erase her than to risk

followed had n

iving beneath her. Twice a day, buckets of freezing water were thrown through the bars to "keep the merchandise clean," Mrs. Baltimo

ithheld, then given, then withheld again, until hunger and pain blurred into one constant hum beneath her skin. She slept curled inside th

ess piece o

the heavy kick against the metal bars sent a violent clang e

sgrace. Maybe we should stop calling

embling lips, lifting her head despite every muscle

er body slammed against the cold floor. Pain erupted through her jaw and sh

ng beside her as he wrapped his fingers around the whi

cross her back, then

of blood filled her mouth, refusing to surrender the only thing she still possessed-her name. But the pain never stopped. It k

are

arned ano

are

ot

are

t could. A raw scream escaped her throa

I'm... I'm a worthless tra

her sprawling across the filthy floor as a

aid with a satisfied sm

. She no longer spoke unless someone demanded an answer. Somewhere between the endless beatings,

t resist. Her hair, what little had grown back, hung in dirty clumps. Her ribs showed through torn cloth. Her eyes, once sharp wi

gesturing carelessly. "Damaged goo

someone offere

en tho

and," a bored

rth to them now - until, from the back of the

lion gol