Page 3 of Unforgivable

Lyri

I wake up with the moon shining brightly into the room. I feel my wolf shrink away at the sight of that pale, white light. The goddess doesn't favor us. She doesn't like rankwhores.

I reach for the blanket that has fallen to my waist. My body scolds me for every movement; even breathing hurts, but I need to hide from the Moon.

Whimpers burst forth when I reach my right hand down. I give up and try with my left. A gasping cry leaves my mouth when I so much as twitch my left arm. Slowly, I turn my head to see the damage. My left wrist is swollen, three times its normal size.

I struggle even more, pain lancing through my body. I need to do something. Panic wells up. My wolf is howling in screams of agony in my head.

A dark figure rises from the floor, startling a raw cry from my sore throat. "No! Stop, please!" I thrash; my body is burning again. Fire everywhere. I am just a corpse on the bonfire.

"Lyri, enough," the dark blue eyes command my obedience.

"No," I whisper. My body twists to get away. Something breaks deep inside me. I feel something warm gushing from between my legs. Did I pee on myself? It hurts.

"Lyri, stop," he says sternly. His hands grasp me despite my pathetic struggles. "You've opened your stitches. Enough, now, female."

"Hurts," I whimper. Searing pain attacks my lower abdomen. The feeling of wetness grows.

"What's wrong?" another male voice snaps from the doorway.

"Get Thjis. She's bleeding again."

"Fuck," the green-eyed male, Ezra, leaves.

When the dark male enters the room, I start to beg again. "Please don't hurt me again? Please?"

He doesn't make eye contact. Instead, he takes away my blanket and curses foully.

"Hold her open for me," he growls.

I try so hard to get away, but the blue-eyed male barely has to exert any effort to keep me pinned.

Ezra pries open my thighs. I scream hoarsely. "No! Please, not again!"

"Shh, Lyri. We aren't going to hurt you, love. Thjis needs to check your stitches. That's all."

"Rhet," Thjis says in a grim voice. I can't feel him hurting me, but he's there, with Ezra, looking and touching me.

"What?" the blue-eyed male snaps.

"It's fucking internal. Shit. I told you. I told you she couldn't survive this shit. Did you fucking see what they did to her? What we did to her?" A sting in my thigh is barely felt.

He presses a palm on my belly. His hand is warm, but it's agonizing to have that pressure there.

"She's swollen, here. Her body can't heal fast enough and expel all this fluid from where it doesn't belong."

I grab his hand, ignoring the fire in my arm as I do. "Please, my wrist?" I beg. I need my wrist to be OK. Then, I can hunt, trap, run.

"Your wrist?" It's the blue-eyed male who speaks.

"It's so big," I tell him. I ignore the probing in what was just a short time ago utterly private. It doesn't hurt too bad down there. Maybe my body has finally just given in to accepting males down there. They can use me up, and I won't feel a thing.

"Poor love, your wrist is bandaged because it's broken. Sweetheart, that's why it's big," Ezra tries to comfort me, but his words ring false. Only a heartbeat later, the dark male lets me know just how true that is.

"Fuck," Thjis curses.

I try to look to see what he is doing. Is he done with me yet? I feel tired, my eyes blinking, starting to close.

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