My lungs felt as if they were filled with fresh air once I reached my neighborhood. Before sharing what had happened with my dad, I needed to get inside my home and rest. Despite some background noises, I focused solely on the path ahead at that moment. My door was shut, a clear sign that my dad was now guarding Flora, suspecting that I had run away. My hands were trembling as I started to knock on the door. I was avoiding eye contact with anyone who might be watching me. "Oh, she's returned!" I heard a woman's whisper, causing me to inch closer to the door. I didn't turn to see how many people had gathered behind me. My father swung the door open, almost causing me to stumble as the support I was leaning on gave way. "D---ad!" I murmured, my voice heavy with drowsiness. "How dare you turn up at my door again like th--," His words faded as his forceful slap sent me reeling to the side. After enduring Atticus's captivity for who knows how many days, I was too weak to withstand the blow. My head struck something, and darkness overcame me. When I finally regained consciousness, I found myself in my room. "Ah!" I exhaled, trying to shift my position. "Dad, please, let me check her wrist. She must be in pain," Flora implored our father, asking for permission to see me. I hoped he'd grant it, so I could lay eyes on her and find solace. I also wanted to inquire about her well-being and whether our father had vented his anger on her. "Dad, please!" she continued to plead, and I kept sobbing, my senses still clouded by drowsiness. "Fl--Flora!" My father must have heard me when I yelled her name from inside because the door burst open, and he stormed in with a furious expression. He was on the verge of striking me when I instinctively hid my face between my legs, curling up into a protective ball to ward off the impending blow. Flora managed to position herself in front of me, shielding me from our dad's wrath. "Step aside, Flora!" Dad warned her, raising his hand menacingly, ready to strike her if she didn't let him get to me. "No! Can't you see how much your daughter is hurting?" Flora stood her ground, shaking her head, refusing to yield. Dad was growling and glaring at her fiercely. "I should have known you'd be the one to ruin my reputation and be known as a slu*," he hissed at me. Hearing those words from my father's mouth cut deep, like a knife to the heart. "Dad!" Flora protested, rushing to hug me and covering my ears with her little hands. It brought tears to my eyes. A father is usually the most protective figure for his daughters, but mine wasn't. "I was abd---ucted," I began, but my father cut me off. "You were not abducted. You ran away with someone, spent nights with them, and when your alpha mate found you, he marked you in anger so that everybody could tell what you had been doing. Is this why your lover tossed you aside?" My father continued to shout, weaving a fabricated story. He had concocted it after examining my wrist. "You have brought enough shame upon me. You will no longer stay here with us," he declared, trembling with rage as he pointed at my face. Flora remained seated in front of me, protecting me from my father's threats and admonishments. He warned her to stay away from me in a much frustrated tone, "If I catch you with her, I will punish you too. She will corrupt you, just like she is." "She is leaving anyway," he added. As I struggled to grasp the gravity of his statement, it felt like I was listening to a record that was about to rupture my eardrums. "What do you mean by that, Dad?" Since I was unable to utter a word, Flora asked on my behalf. "Huh! I'm getting rid of her," Dad declared. My body trembled, and Flora tightened her embrace around me in an attempt to provide comfort. "No! You can't harm her!" Flora shouted, and in response, Dad rolled his eyes at her dismissively. "I'm not harming her. How would disposing of this filth benefit me?" He shrugged as he referred to me in such a derogatory manner. "Then what are you planning, Dad?" My little sister appeared deeply concerned for me. She was able to confront our father fearlessly when it came to protecting me. Of all the people in the world, she was the only one who truly cared about me. "I'm selling her to Mr. Beret," Dad declared, "nobody else is willing to take her." "He's the only one willing to pay for you after you spent 7 days with someone else and came back with that mark on your wrist," he explained, causing my heart to sink in my chest. 7 days? I had been held captive for 7 days. Atticus was so heartless that he had kept me imprisoned for a full week. And now my father was selling me to Mr. Beret? That old gambler? "He's not even my mate!" I screamed, breaking my silence at last. I couldn't remain silent any longer, allowing him to determine my fate. "You still think you'll find a mate after this? Your mate left that mark on your wrist. He doesn't want you. You're fortunate that someone is willing to accept you after that mark was revealed to the entire neighborhood," he muttered under his breath.It was he who had made the mark public, and now he was puzzled as to why nobody would accept me. "From now on, you'll only see anyone when your husband comes to collect you," he declared, grabbing Flora's arm and dragging her out of the room despite her protests. "Is this my fate? Why was I even born into a werewolf family when I don't even have a wolf to protect me?" I implored the Moon Goddess as I lifted my face. I was consumed with anger at the world because the person I once believed to be my soulmate had deserted me, leaving me with no choice but to marry a repugnant old man who, to make matters worse, wasn't even my mate.