Everyone knew that Christopher Guerrero, Alpha of the Bloodmoon Pack, was cold and merciless.

He never took off the meditation beads wrapped around his wrist—not even on our wedding night. That night, he looked me in the eye and said, "There will be no consummation."

But that stormy day, I saw him kneeling in the chapel.

His usually spotless suit pants were bunched at his waist. He gripped Nicole Walsh by the hips and kissed the red birthmark at the nape of her neck like it was sacred.

Three days later, my virginity was put up for auction.

In a private suite, Christopher spun our wedding ring on the table while his warriors waved their number cards and joked, "So the Alpha stayed pure for five years for Ms. Walsh?"

"That means the Alpha's wife is fair game now, huh?"

He crushed the meditation beads in his hand.

"Filthy things have never interested me."

The heavy rain poured down on the chapel's cross as I stood beneath the eaves, the umbrella I once held long lost.

Rain streamed down my face. I couldn't tell if it was water or tears.

On our wedding night, Christopher's indifferent gaze and the crystal bracelet he tossed at me were all I had to show for five years of marriage.

Christopher never let anyone touch his obsidian meditation beads.

And now, those meditation beads were rolling down Nicole's pale back, leaving behind stark, red marks.

"Christopher." Her sweet voice cut through the sound of rain. "You married her, but you're losing your mind over me."

I bit my lip hard to keep from making a sound.

Nicole was the younger sister of one of Christopher's close friends. She was always so gentle and obedient in public.

No one would have guessed the crimson mark on her neck would become the key to Christopher's downfall.

I stumbled home in a daze, and by the next morning, I was burning with fever, but no one came to check on me.

Everyone in the pack knew that Christopher never wanted this marriage. To him, the Luna was nothing but a title.

Three days later, Rashad Marquez unexpectedly delivered an exquisite gown.

"Luna Hannah, there's a tea party tonight. Your attendance is required."

Something felt off, but it was the first time in five years that Christopher had personally invited me to anything. Against all reason, I said yes.

I didn't realize something was wrong until the scenery outside the car grew increasingly unfamiliar and we stopped at a grand European-style building.

"What is this place?"

"The auction house," the driver said flatly. "Alpha Christopher made it clear that if you don't go in, your father's debts will be made public tomorrow."

My blood ran cold. I had no choice but to step into the opulent building.

A server led me down a long corridor and stopped outside a semi-private box on the second floor.

"Starting bid at 500,000 dollars. This is the virginity of Alpha's legal wife we're talking about!" Laughter rang out from inside. "I heard Alpha Christopher never even held her hand!"

"All for Ms. Walsh, huh? Word is someone caught him in the chapel during the storm... doing a little more than praying."

"So these are tonight's offerings?"

"The filthy thing Alpha always refers to!"

Hands trembling, I pushed the door open. Christopher sat at the center, meditation beads looped in one hand, eyes half-closed.

Four or five men lounged nearby, number cards in hand. The moment they saw me, they burst into crude laughter.

The glare from the silver chain in the room stung my eyes. In the middle of the box stood a gilded cage lined with scarlet silk. It was clearly my display platform.

"So this is Luna Hannah?" One man, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, lifted my chin with a fan. "Pretty, but a bit scrawny."

"I heard Ms. Walsh caught her trying to seduce the Alpha in the chapel," another man snickered. "Shameless, isn't she?"

I whipped my head toward Christopher. "I didn't! You know it was—"

The meditation beads struck me square in the forehead, and blood immediately began to pour down my face.

Christopher slowly opened his eyes. The usual calm in them had vanished, replaced by something unreadable.

"Kneel."

I pressed a hand to my bleeding forehead but refused to move.

"Kneel, or I'll break your legs and make you kneel." His voice was terrifyingly calm. "Choose."

My knees buckled, and I collapsed in front of those well-dressed beasts.

Jake Reid took a tray from a server and pulled back the red cloth.

It was a nearly see-through gown and a small lock made entirely of gold.

"Alpha Christopher, you are a man of taste." The man with gold-rimmed glasses sneered. "You even brought the tools."

Christopher turned the meditation beads between his fingers again. "For the sake of our five-year marriage, I'm giving you a shred of dignity. After tonight, you're nothing more than a thing. Your life or death isn't yours to decide."

The server grabbed me roughly and dragged me into the cage. Cold silver chains clamped around my wrists and ankles.

The men surrounded me like I was merchandise, openly commenting on every inch of me.

The man in glasses even used his cigarette to push aside my collar and click his tongue at the birthmark on my shoulder.

"800 thousand dollars," Christopher said suddenly.

The room fell silent.

"Alpha, are you testing the goods yourself?" Jake joked, elbowing the guy next to him.

"She's already filthy," Christopher said, crushing a bead between his fingers. "Bid as you like. When it's over, I'll break her in myself."

That was when I realized what happened in the chapel wasn't the end. It was the beginning of a plan he had crafted down to every last detail.

My marriage, my dignity, even my life—they were just offerings Christopher prepared for the woman he truly loved.

The auctioneer began counting down. The golden lock on the cage glinted coldly under the lights.

The gavel came down with a thud that made my heart jolt.

The chains jingled with my every shiver. My wrists were already raw and bleeding.

"One million dollars, first call!

"One million dollars, second call!"

The man with glasses tapped the cage bars. The chandelier reflected in his lenses, casting a sharp glint. "Luna Hannah's eyes really are something. She looks even better when she cries. Alpha, how did you hold back all this time?"

Jake suddenly grabbed my ankle, his thick fingers trailing along the chain with disgusting intent. "I hear the tips of the toes are the most sensitive. How about a little test?"

"Let go!" I kicked at him, but the chain only dug deeper into my flesh.

The scent of blood mixed with sandalwood filled my nose. When I looked up, my eyes met Christopher's dark, cold, and bottomless eyes. He sat calmly behind the table, like a judge passing down death.

"1.2 million dollars," he said, and Jake reluctantly pulled his hand back.

"Alpha, are you really going to train her yourself?" Someone chuckled.

Christopher took a slow sip of tea. "Since it's already dirty, I might as well clean it before passing it on."

A tray was brought forward, and when the cloth was pulled off, the whole room reacted. It was a whip.

Christopher picked it up. The tip brushed the birthmark on my collarbone—cold metal that sent a shiver through me. "First strike."

The crack of the whip tore through the air. I bit down hard on my lip.

My silk gown tore open with a rip, and a searing pain bloomed down my spine a moment too late.

The scent of blood thickened.

"Second.

"Third."

By the seventh, I collapsed, curled up on the floor.

Through the haze, I saw Christopher undo the meditation beads on his wrist—the obsidian strand he never took off—now being crushed, bead by bead, under his hand.

"Looks like this'll have to wait," he murmured, crouching and grabbing my chin. "If you can't even take a few lashes, how are you going to please these fine gentlemen?"

Jake reached for the front of my torn dress. "Let me teach Luna Hannah a few manners."

"Ms. Walsh has arrived!" a voice called from outside.

The room went dead silent.

Christopher's hand froze mid-motion, the crushed meditation beads slipping between his fingers. For the first time, I saw a flicker of panic in his eyes.

Ash from the sandalwood floated down like snow, landing on my open wounds, searing hot against my skin.

So the saint's downcast gaze wasn't mercy. It was a cover for the filth they couldn't wash away.

The gilded bars of the cage dug painfully into my back. Blood still seeped from the lash marks across my spine.

Nicole stood with her arms crossed, watching me with a smirk that wasn't quite a smile.

Christopher's grip on the whip tightened, veins bulging along the back of his hand. The last few beads on his wrist trembled with each breath, as if silently counting out my sins.

"Does it hurt?" he asked suddenly, lifting my chin with the handle of the whip. "Is it already too much for you?"

I stared up through the blood clouding my vision. "So Alphas feel anger too?"

Lightning cracked outside the chapel, highlighting the sudden constriction in his pupils.

"Kneel up straight." His hand clamped around the back of my neck, forcing me upright. The silver chains clinked loudly. "Tell me—where should the next lash land?"

I looked at the hem of his suit jacket, still dusted with Nicole's jasmine-scented powder. "Left shoulder."

The whip cracked past my ear. I heard his breath hitch.

But the pain never came. Instead, the whip grazed a strand of hair from my temple.

"You did that on purpose!" I looked up sharply and caught the flicker of panic he couldn't hide in time.

The whip coiled around his palm, digging so deep it left angry red marks—deeper than the ones from the meditation beads.

Then, his voice cut through the silence. "When your father forced this marriage with his dirty tactics, you should have known it would end like this."

Thunder rolled across the rooftop, and suddenly, I let out a laugh.

It was the Guerrero family who wanted that merger five years ago to take over my pack's shipping lines. But now, somehow, I was the one being punished for it.

"Christopher!" Nicole's voice drifted in with the rain.

Christopher's fingers twitched.

He grabbed the cold tea from the table and dumped it over my wounds. I bit down hard enough to draw blood just to stop from screaming.

"Remember this pain." He leaned in, and the meditation beads brushed across my collarbone. His voice was low as he whispered, "If you so much as glance at her..."

Nicole stepped inside, lifting her skirt over the threshold.

Christopher sat there with unnerving composure. It was almost as if the man who had lost control moments ago had been nothing but a hallucination.

"Oh my! What a lovely cage," she said lightly, stopping just before the puddle of my blood. The pearls on her heels soaked up the red. "I heard Hannah was being auctioned today, so I brought a gift."

She opened a gilded box and took out a tiny silver bell, then bent down and fastened it to my ankle.

The movement made her neckline dip, revealing a fresh bite mark on her collarbone. It was identical in shape to Christopher's teeth.

"Filthy people should wear a bell," Christopher said suddenly, crushing another bead between his fingers.

When Nicole covered her mouth and let out a soft laugh, I saw a look in Christopher's eyes. I noticed a gentleness I had never once received.

But the moment her fingers brushed the lash on my back, the teacup in his hand shattered.

He was calmly wiping his hands with a handkerchief.

"Why did you touch her?" His voice was even, but the book in his grasp was already bent out of shape.

"Disgusting."

After Nicole left, the downpour grew even heavier.

Christopher locked the chapel door. When he returned, his suit collar was damp and faintly scented with jasmine.

He crouched to tie a knot in the chain at my ankle, his fingers lingering on the bell for three silent seconds.

"Do you know why it has to be a whip?" he asked.

I stared out at the wall of rain, saying nothing.

The whip suddenly curled around my throat. With that leverage, he forced me to lift my head. Our noses were inches apart.

"Because you'll need to suffer all 81 lashes before I can exorcise my demons," he said, breath hot against the scabbed wounds on my neck.

His lips brushed against my earlobe, the air thick with tension.

In that case, he might as well hire a priest.

The silver bell at my ankle jingled softly as I curled up in the cage, watching moonlight spill across the gilded bars.

"If it hurts, cry," he said, tilting my chin up with the handle of the whip until it pressed against my throat. "That stubborn look in your eyes makes me want to break you."

I stared at the meditation beads on his wrist. It was still dusted with traces of Nicole's jasmine powder.

His shirt collar was a mess, exposing fresh scratch marks across his collarbone. Clearly left by a woman in the heat of passion.

"When your father drugged me to force me into bed with you, he should have expected this day would come," Christopher said suddenly, grabbing the back of my neck and jerking my head toward the hidden door behind the bookshelf. "Do you know what's behind it?"

The moment the door creaked open, every drop of blood in my body froze.

An entire wall of glass cases was filled with my things—cups I had used, and books I had read.

Christopher dragged his meditation beads across my open wound. The pain was so sharp it made my vision go black. "Tell me—should I be the one to exorcise this demon in you?"

The rain pounded louder against the windows.

When Nicole burst into the room, she kicked aside the scattered meditation beads. Christopher was wrapping a blood-soaked cloth around my wrist.

She shrieked and knocked over the medicine box. "Christopher, what are you doing? You said she was mine to deal with!"

Christopher let her pull at his sleeve, but his gaze remained fixed on the cut across the top of my foot that was sliced open by a shattered emerald. "Filthy people should at least be put to good use."

He suddenly yanked me toward the cage bars, his blood-stained fingers brushing Nicole's lips. "But some things, you have to teach firsthand to make them stick."

Nicole grabbed the whip and lashed it at my chest. "I want that birthmark then!"

Christopher caught the tip of the whip barehanded. The skin of his palm split open instantly.

Blood dripped down the silver chain and onto my collarbone. The heat of it made me flinch.

"Come back tomorrow," he said in a terrifyingly soft tone. His eyes were locked on the blood soaking through my gown. "Right now, I need to cleanse my house."

After Nicole's footsteps faded down the corridor, Christopher suddenly struck the incense table, shattering it into splinters.

In the wreckage, he ripped off his suit jacket and threw it around my shaking body. His hot lips pressed to the spot behind my ear. "Scream."

"What?"

"Scream like you did just now. I want the entire pack to hear."

I clenched my jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction—until he suddenly shoved the meditation beads between my teeth.

As the obsidian clicked against enamel, he let out a ragged breath and unbuckled his belt. "Do you really want me to get serious?"

Just as the gilded cage's chains groaned under the strain, Rashad's startled voice rang out from outside the window. "Alpha! Ms. Walsh's car just pulled back in!"

Christopher froze instantly.

He yanked a tablecloth over my exposed shoulders, but when he turned, the hem of his suit jacket was still caught in my ankle chain.

"Christopher?" Nicole stepped into the room with a flashlight in hand. In the flickering light, she saw his undone belt and the beads in my mouth.

A teacup shattered against the cage bars, shards flying everywhere. Christopher's first instinct was to shield me with his hand.

"What are you doing?" Nicole's emerald earrings swung wildly as she shouted. "You said even touching her disgusted you!"

Christopher calmly buckled his belt and picked up the bloodstained cloth from the floor. "She still disgusts me."

Christopher suddenly gripped my chin, forcing my mouth open, and retrieved the saliva-soaked meditation beads. "So that's what this is for."

Nicole snatched the meditation beads and flung them into the rain-drenched pond. "I want her whipped in front of everyone at the Full Moon banquet tomorrow night!"

Once their footsteps had fully faded, Christopher abruptly yanked open my robe.

His hands trembled more than mine as he applied the cool ointment to my wounds.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, clutching the meditation beads that had slipped from his fingers.

Moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains and settled on his brow.

"My mate," he said suddenly, using the same tone he had on our wedding night. His blood-stained fingers gently worked through the knots in my hair. "Take a guess."

The kiss he left on my wound seared like fire.

The Full Moon banquet went on as planned.

The guests smiled and chatted, but their eyes kept drifting toward me.

I was forced to wear a sheer gown, the silver bells on my ankles chiming with every step like the blade of a knife against my skin.

Christopher sat at the head of the table. With meditation beads in hand, he slightly lowered his head, as if none of this farce had anything to do with him.

"Luna, you're looking quite well tonight," Nicole said sweetly, holding a bouquet just under my nose. "Christopher picked these himself last night."

I pressed my lips together in silence, though my eyes couldn't help but flick toward Christopher.

His eyes remained closed, but his fingers worked the meditation beads faster, his knuckles pale.

"What? You don't believe me?" Nicole suddenly seized my wrist, her grip so tight it dug into my skin. "Why don't you ask Alpha yourself?"

She shoved me forward without warning, and I stumbled, falling to my knees before Christopher.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

Christopher finally opened his eyes. There was no emotion in the darkness of his gaze.

"Alpha," I said, my voice shaking as I clenched the fabric of my dress. "Those flowers from last night..."

His hand lashed out without warning. The meditation beads struck my cheek with brutal force, the jagged obsidian edges tearing into my skin. Blood welled and slid down instantly.

"Who gave you permission to speak?" His voice was ice-cold, like he was disciplining a disobedient dog. "You've stained my ears."

Nicole covered her mouth and giggled, giving me a smug glance before nestling sweetly into Christopher's side. "Don't be mad, Christopher. I'll take care of her myself during the punishment."

Christopher didn't respond. He slowly wiped the blood off the meditation beads, then raised his eyes toward the golden platform set in the middle of the pond.

The whipping post was already set, the leather lash gleaming coldly under the sunlight.

"Take her there," he said flatly.

Two guards immediately seized me and dragged me toward the platform.

The silver bells clanged wildly as I struggled, drawing laughter from the crowd.

"I heard Luna had her mouth stuffed with meditation beads on her wedding night."

"No wonder she's out seducing men—five years of a dead marriage will do that to you."

"Today's whipping won't stop until there's blood."

Their mocking voices hit me like a tidal wave. I bit down hard on my lip until I tasted iron.

The guards strapped me to the post, the rough rope slicing into my wrists and drawing blood.

Nicole took the whip and tested its weight in her hand, her smile dazzling. "Christopher, where should I start?"

Christopher sipped his tea, unbothered. "Wherever you want."

Nicole lifted a brow and teased my chin with the tip of the whip. "How about that pretty little face that lures men in?"

Just as the whip whistled toward me, I shut my eyes.

"Stop!" A sharp voice cut through the air.