Cass’s POV

I sit in the cold, oppressive darkness, my head resting against the pole. The chains are too short to lie down, so I simply lean into the cold steel, using it as an anchor. I didn't bother counting the lashes, but there were enough.

It’s been hours. Just as I suspected, the agony eventually receded into a dull, bearable throb. In the distance, I hear the whimpers of other prisoners—the soundtrack of this hellhole—and it breaks my heart.

Suddenly, a blanket is tossed over my shoulders.

"Your punishment is over," Poppy says softly as a guard unlocks my shackles. "Be careful with her," she instructs the guard.

To my surprise, it’s Garret and Victor who lift me up. They carry me back to the house in a tense, uncomfortable silence. When they open the door to my room, Lotus is waiting, stepping out of the bathroom.

"In the tub. I have a warm bath running," she directs them.

They set me down and vanish as quickly as possible, unable to meet my gaze. Lotus begins to wash the blood and grime from my skin, her touch surprisingly gentle.

"Alexis... I don't know his real name, but he is alive," Poppy whispers while drying my hair. "He’s being treated for his wounds."

I want to say I don’t care, but the relief is instantaneous. "And the other man? My mate?"

"Ezra is also in the infirmary."

Ezra.

Why does he always manage to complicate everything?

After they bandage my back, they tuck me into bed. The silver-laced whip has left marks that will take days to fade, but I’m too exhausted to care. I drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.

By the next afternoon, I’m summoned to Warrick’s office. I feel significantly better, though the silver burns faintly beneath the bandages. When I walk in, I’m greeted by the sight of Ezra, impeccably dressed in a suit, standing near Warrick’s desk.

"Oh, it's you," I say, dripping with disdain.

"Is that how you treat your mate?" Warrick asks.

"He is

not

my mate. I rejected him a long time ago. Why am I here?"

Warrick’s eyes narrow. "Ezra has offered to defect. He’s willing to trade every secret of his pack to stay here with you. Speak, boy."

Ezra takes a breath, his gaze pleading. "Cass, I was wrong. I need you. Please, forgive me."

"Forgive you? Because you say you’re sorry? You’d betray your own family for a chance to manipulate me?"

"I regret it all," he insists.

I feel nothing. No tug of the bond, no lingering attachment. "I don’t feel a shred of remorse from you. You’re only here because you’re jealous that Colt touched what you couldn't."

Ezra growls, his hands balling into fists.

"Bingo," I say, smiling coldly.

Warrick watches the display with amused detachment. "He is your mate, Casseopea. Do you not feel the bond?"

"Oh, I feel it. I just refuse it," I retort. "I won't let a biological leash rule my life. A mate bond is a trap—it’s just a way to force you to crave an abusive narcissist. I am the one who chooses my partners, Ezra, and it will never be you."

"I came all this way for you! I was willing to cross enemy lines!" Ezra pleads.

"That’s called obsession, not love." I turn to Warrick. "Are we done?"

Warrick waves a hand dismissively. "Leave us, Ezra. You remain a prisoner until I say otherwise."

As the door clicks shut, Warrick circles his desk and leans against the edge, eyes locked on me. "Your mouth is becoming dangerous, girl."

"What will you do? Punish me again?"

"WATCH YOUR TONE!" he roars.

"OR WHAT?" I scream back, my defiance boiling over.

He rushes me, pinning me against the wall with his forearm. "Or I’ll just make do with two sons instead!"

"Do it!" I shriek, staring him down. "Kill me! DO IT!"

He freezes. His face pales, and he recoils as if I’ve struck him. "I was wrong... you are not like your mother." He lets go, stumbling back. "I know why we’re always at odds now. You’re like

me

."

"I am nothing like you!"

"Yes, you are. The anger, the defiance—that’s all me." He looks almost proud, which makes my skin crawl. "Maybe someday you’ll see things my way." He swats his hand at me like I’m an annoying insect. "Go. I’m tired of you."

"Where is Colt?" I demand.

"Wherever Garret took him. You aren't allowed to see him. NOW LEAVE!"

I slam the door and stomp down the hall, my rage fueling every step. I head straight for the war room. I kick the double doors open with a thunderous crash.

"WHERE IS COLT!" I scream at the room full of warriors.

Garret’s voice booms. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I’m going to see him, and God help anyone who tries to stop me!"

"Are you crazy? If Father finds out—"

"Does it look like I give a damn?" I step into his space. "If you don't tell me, I will break every door in this house until I find him!"

Garret drags me into a corner. "I’m not telling you anything!"

"TELL ME!" My command rips through the air, vibrating with a power I didn't know I possessed.

Garret’s eyes go wide, his face slackening as he blurts out, "Second floor, on the right. The room with two guards."

He blinks, looking horrified. "I... I didn't..."

I flash a triumphant, sharp-toothed smile. "Oh, look at that. My powers work perfectly fine after all."

I turn on my heel, walking away with a cocky, self-assured stride. You wanted me to learn how to use my power, Father? Well, I’m learning. Be careful what you sow, because you’re going to hate what you reap.