CHAPTER 34: CHAPTER 34: I WANT HER OWNED.

Selene’s POV

The next morning...

The cold clink of the chains unlocking echoed through the punishment room.

I didn’t move.

My wrists dropped heavily to my sides, blood rushing back into my numb arms. The sudden ache barely registered—because something far worse had already settled inside me.

Kael didn’t speak.

He simply tugged the leash.

The collar tugged at my throat, not harshly, but enough to make me stumble forward.

The bell rang. A small, delicate jingle. Innocent in sound. Cruel in meaning.

My legs obeyed because I couldn’t afford to fall, because I am sure he would start dragging me like that without giving me the chance to stood up.

We stepped into the corridor, and with every slow step, the little bell jingled, soft and rhythmic.

I kept my head down.

My hair fell like a curtain around my face, shielding me. Not out of fear. Not even out of shame.

But because if I saw someone—anyone—I didn’t know if I could survive it.

My fists clenched at my sides, trembling.

I wanted to rip the leash from his hand. I wanted to claw that smirk from his face. I wanted to scream.

But I did none of those things.

Because this—this moment—was the real punishment.

He had found it. The one thing I couldn’t endure.

This public stripping of my pride and padding me like a dog.

If that’s what Kael wanted—to see me crawl, to humiliate me in silence—then congratulations.

He had succeeded.

I would have taken lashes over this. I would have chosen the chains. I would have begged to be whipped raw.

But this... this was different.

It wasn’t about obedience. It was about erasing who I used to be.

We passed a servant. Then another. They didn’t meet my gaze. Not one.

But they all heard the sound. The melodic sound of the bell and with each step shame crawl to my skin.

Their eyes flickered briefly to the leash in Kael’s hand. To the collar at my throat. And then they looked away, fast, as if seeing me hurt them.

As if I were contagious.

My face burned with shame and I felt like digging a hole to burry myself.

Then Kael stopped walking, just for a moment, and barked a sharp order without even turning his head.

"Head maid."

She stepped out of the hall like she had been waiting.

"Yes, Alpha Kael."

"She’s not to leave my chamber," he said coldly. "Or my brothers’."

A silence fell.

My chest tightened.

What did he just say?

"I want her available. When I want her. Where I want her. You understand?"

The head maid bowed. "Understood."

She didn’t look at me. Not even once.

Not when she agreed to cage me. Not when she accepted what I was becoming. A tool, possession or a slave.

The leash tugged again.

He kept moving. And so was I—because I had no choice.

Dragged like an animal across stone floors that once echoed with the sound of my own confident steps.

The door at the end of the corridor loomed there rooms.

Kael opened the door and yanked the leash forward, pulling me inside. I staggered. Caught myself. Didn’t look at him.

Not because I was afraid to—but because I didn’t want him to see the tears welling in my eyes.

I wouldn’t let him have that.

Not even now.

~~~

Kael’s POV

She looked at me like she still mattered.

Even now...collared, chained, and dragged into the dark edges of the estate like a dog—She still had the audacity to glare at me. Her eyes, bright and stubborn, flickered with rage no chain could touch.

She stood beneath the weight of the punishment room like a fallen goddess, filthy and trembling, and yet her gaze burned into mine like fire refusing to die.

And that more than anything infuriated me.

My grip tightened slightly on the leather leash as I watched her from across the room. I didn’t speak. I let the silence stretch, let her feel the weight of my attention. Every line of her body was tense, every breath sharp and shaky. She wouldn’t lower her eyes. She never did.

That same look was in her face years ago when she stood behind her father, chin lifted as if the world owed her its loyalty. She had worn royalty like armor then. And I had hated her for it.

I still do.

But the hatred has grown teeth now. It no longer burns—it carves her blood.

Her father scorched entire villages to the ground. Our people were butchered in the name of his order. My mother’s cries had been the last sound I heard before he took everything from us.

My brothers and I survived the ruin of our pack with nothing but ash in our lungs and blood under our nails. And yet while we rebuilt from the bones of our dead, she stood in silks and gold, untouched.

The Moonveil Alpha may have died, but his legacy survived—in her. Every trace of his pride, every drop of his blood, every breath of his tyranny—all of it lived inside her.

And I would tear it out piece by piece.

I stepped forward slowly, deliberately. My boots echoed over the stone floor as I circled her. She stood with her wrists still bleeding, the collar snug around her throat. I could hear the bell tremble slightly when she shifted, like it knew shame even if she did not.

She flinched when I drew close, but not out of fear. No...Selene didn’t fear pain. She feared becoming something less...just like her father, a power hungry bitch.

And I would give her exactly that.

I came to a stop directly in front of her and looked down at her face. The dirt on her cheek couldn’t hide the sharpness of her features—the same high cheekbones and proud mouth that once made kings consider alliances.

Now she looked like a tarnished statue, something sacred that had been dragged through the mud. Her lips were pressed tight, bloodless, and I wondered how long she would keep that silence.

My fingers lifted slowly, brushing back a piece of her hair that clung to her damp skin. She recoiled, just slightly. That small motion made something cold and vicious flicker in my chest.

Good. She was starting to understand.

"You still believe this is temporary. That one day, someone will ride in and free you. Maybe your precious prince. Maybe your people. But they’re not coming, Selene. You’ll rot here before anyone lifts a hand for you."

She didn’t answer, of course. Her jaw remained clenched, her silence an act of war. But her eyes, those cursed eyes still met mine with that relentless glow. So bright and alive.

I wanted to dim them.

Not just snuff them out—I wanted to watch them flicker. I wanted to see the light waver, inch by inch, until her pride crumbled into dust and she looked at me not with fury—but with surrender. That moment, that breath, when she would no longer resist but reach for me of her own will, would be the final blow in my revenge.

Because I don’t want her dead.

I want her owned.