An incoherent string of chanting filled Vivian's ears, drilling into her head, but the words were unrecognisable.

It was a language she'd never heard before.

The smell of burning flesh invaded her nose and mouth, choking her as pain etched its way across her skin.

The chanting echoed in her mind, and she couldn't block it out, but gradually another sound erupted and the chanting faded.

Distantly, Vivian realised the sound was coming from her.

She was screaming.

Something cold and damp falling on her face was the first disturbance to wake her up. Blinking her eyes open, she saw dull green and the grey shades of the skies above her.

There was a moment—a single fleeting second of desired peace—before a searing, sharp pain hit her, and she cried out. The seconds crawled by uncounted until finally the agony ebbed and she was able to look, really look, at her own body.

She was utterly naked.

Her once unblemished, and creamy fair skin was now engraved with symbols.

They burned.

As if someone were igniting fire across her body while the acrid smell of smoke and magic lingered around her.

Tracing one of the brands with her finger, Vivian could feel the heat radiating from it. Any physical contact only worsened the pain, and she hissed, her hand recoiling from her own body. And thus, another wave of agony washed over her, drawing a cry from her mouth.

Vivian's body felt like a battleground, her shifter side trying in futile attempts to heal the marks engraved onto her while the magic within the symbols, Wickan magic, fought against her. It was a losing battle because Shifter, and Wickan magics were like oil and water.

They didn't mix.

Forcing herself to her feet as every nerve and fibre of her being felt like it was set alight, Vivian peered at the trees around her. They'd returned her to her territory, which meant she wasn't too far off from home.

Stumbling forward, Vivian retrieved the tattered shawl that belonged to her to modestly cover herself.

She was headed towards her Pack. Towards safety.

She ambled her way into dark but familiar surroundings. It was the training house where the newly bitten wolves of her Pack were placed while they acclimated. Hence, it was of little surprise that the room was securely shut and bolted from the outside.

It prevented overpowered, out of control, new wolves from escaping during their first few changes.

They hadn't had a new wolf in years.

The house stood sturdy in disuse because the pack knew very well they'd need it again someday. 

However, Vivian had never thought it would be for her.

Screeching cries erupted from her when the burning of the symbols on her body ignited again. It seemed to ebb and rise, allowing Vivian brief respites from the agony.

Rocking back and forward, she tried to divert her attention from the pain, trying to distract herself from feeling, but her efforts were in vain.

When it finally peaked and began to taper off, she called out.

"Hello? Is anyone there? Please." Her hoarse voice choked from desperation with every word. "I need… I need help."

Vivian listened attentively, as best she could, over the ministrations of her agony, but she neither heard a whisper, a footstep, nor a heartbeat.

They had found her and thrown her in here mercilessly.

They abandoned her yet again.

Vivian knew who was responsible for her suffering.

Estwood Coven.

Two weeks prior to Vivian's current state, her brother Vince had bitten Alexa, the daughter of Estwood Coven's leader, Alessandro.

The particulars had been glossed over, but Victor, their pack Alpha, and Vivian's father had firmly refused Alessandro's request for Pack Justice.

Wickan and lycanthrope magic were dangerously incompatible. From what they'd heard, Estwood Coven had gone to great extents to save Alexa, but she died an agonising and torturous death.

The lycanthropic magic from Vince's bite sowed chaos into her Wickan veins, resulting in a clash of magic that eventually dried out her body and ceased every organ's functioning.

Why? Why had Vince done this to Alexa? When asked, he'd simply grinned and arrogantly replied, "To watch that Wickan bitch writhe."

But when Victor denied Estwood Coven retribution through his pack, it wasn't Vince they'd taken, it was Vivian.

And, for a moment, when Alessandro, the Estwood Coven leader, revealed to Vivian what he was about to do with her, he'd been almost apologetic. He realised he was forcing Vivian to suffer the sins of her older brother and father.

Vivian believed the truth was far more complex than that.

Alessandro was, after all, a despicable coward.

If Alessandro had taken Vince, an Alpha and potential successor to his father, Victor wouldn't have hesitated to launch a full-scale war on Estwood Coven.

For Vivian, she'd be fortunate if her father even showed concern for her disappearance or even sent someone to look for her.

When the sound of footsteps finally approached, the door unbolted and was thrown open, it was her father who stood there, at the threshold.

"Vivian," her father uttered her name with evident disdain, his old hazel eyes cold and sharp.

"Father, help me. Please," Vivian begged, her voice a needy cry to be unshackled from her pain.

"You've been marked," Victor said sternly, ignoring his daughter's pleas.

"I know," Vivian mumbled apologetically. "I tried to fight them, to get away. It burns terribly. Please, Father."

"Our healer has examined you," Victor replied curtly, his hands clasped behind his back as he didn't even bother to offer his arms to comfort his daughter. "He says there's nothing that can be done. Pain relief would wear off in a matter of minutes."

"It still burns just as strongly as when they were burning my skin," Vivian said, desperately fighting to keep still and stop her body from trembling.

"It would have been better if they killed you," Victor remarked unremorsefully, his words cutting deeper than the burns on his daughter's body.

"I'm sorry." What else could Vivian say?

"You've been one disappointment after another. I should have cast you out after Dane returned you, but I still had hope that you could fulfil your duty as my Omega daughter. I gave you every chance, and you failed. And now…"

"I'll do better, Father, please. I'll try harder." Vivian hung her head low in shameful promise, praying fervently that her father would forgive her for her shortcomings.

The pain began to surface again, and Vivian curled her body up, clenching her weak fists to endure and bury the pain. It wouldn't end well for her to display weakness now in front of her father.

But the agony was excruciatingly more than she could handle, and she sobbed softly, muffling the sounds with a hand across her mouth.

Looking up, she caught the expression of horror and contempt on her father's face. Then the Alpha stepped back without a word, and the door slammed shut, the bolt sliding in place.

As soon as Victor left, Vivian allowed herself to slump down to the floor, submitting to the pain that wracked her without restraint.

The torture seemed never-ending.

Would they even help her?

Suddenly, a soft voice called out to her.

"Vivian?"

The voice got more insistent.

"Vivian!"

Blinking her eyes open, she found her niece Avery standing by the door. She was staring at Vivian, her eyes wide with worry and subtle anger.

"Vivian, please; you need to wake up. They're coming."

Vivian's attention was immediately captured, and she struggled to sit up, hugging her shawl tighter around her body.

"Who's coming, Avery?"

Her niece was eleven and had perfected the sneaky art of listening when adults were convinced she wasn't.

"The pack," Avery replied with a gulp. "They had a meeting about you."

"What did they say?" Vivian asked with a voice full of hope.

"That they would offer you pack mercy," Avery revealed, her expression tensing. "It's the only thing they can do."

Pack mercy. They were going to kill her.