“You know the rules,” Mavros continued, his voice snapping back to cold authority. “Anyone who harms Vivian is punished—twice.”
I knew that look in his eyes. This wasn’t just about pack law. He wanted to make an example out of me.
The warriors shoved me down to my knees, my wolf thrashing and howling inside me. One of them forced my head forward, my cheek scraping against the cold tiles.
“Slap her,” Mavros ordered, his voice flat, detached, like he was talking about the weather.
Vivian gasped dramatically, clutching her chest like a bad actress. “No, Alpha Mavros, please... I don’t want her to get hurt.”
Liar.
Her tone shifted, dripping with faux sweetness. "Let me do it. She’s my sister. It’s my place to punish her, not yours."
A warrior grabbed my chin, yanking my head up. Vivian stepped closer, her face glowing with sick satisfaction. Then her hand lashed out, sharp and fast.
The first slap stung like fire. The second was worse. Her nails dragged across my cheek, leaving hot trails of blood dripping down my jaw.
“Oh no, Sis Izara!” she gasped, her voice trembling with fake remorse. “I didn’t mean to hurt you!”
I locked eyes with her, my glare as sharp as a blade.