Due to the scorching heat cycling through the fire house for ten days, my body had transformed beyond recognition. My wolf
form, normally sleek and powerful, lay charred and twisted in death.
Only my eyes remained distinctive–wide open and glazed with terror, forever fixed in a silent accusation.
The repeated burnings had stripped away most of my fur, leaving patches of blackened skin clinging to the bone beneath. In some
places, the flesh had completely melted away, exposing skeletal remains.
“Oh–God-” A young maid choked out before doubling over.
Several servants immediately rushed away to vomit, retching violently against the exterior walls of the fire house.
My father pushed through the stunned group, his face contorted with disbelief as he entered the fire house.
When his eyes landed on my corpse, his pupils contracted to pinpoints, and the blood drained from his face.
Then his expression hardened, and rage erupted.
“Where is Scarlett?” he roared, looking around wildly as if I might be hiding somewhere in the small space. “This isn’t Scarlett!
This is… this is some kind of trick! Tell her to get out here right now!”
He stared fixedly at the decomposed face, where the forehead had rotted the worst, revealing stark white bone beneath.
Looking at that face, even I could hardly believe it was me. Had once been Scarlett Morgan, daughter of Beta Donovan Morgan,
once–beloved child and heir to the second–highest position in the pack.
Edward stepped forward, his face ashen. The old housekeeper’s hands trembled violently, but his voice rang out clear and firm:
“Sir, this IS Miss Scarlett! Your daughter is dead!”
My father whirled around, his eyes flashing yellow with wolf–rage. He grabbed Edward by the collar, lifting the older man until
his feet barely touched the ground.
“You old fool! Have you gone completely senile?” he snarled, spittle flying from his lips. “This… this thing looks nothing like my daughter! This is clearly something she arranged to trick me. Some kind of sick joke!”
“Miss has been locked in the fire house for ten days, sir. Even the strongest wolf couldn’t survive that.”
“Nonsense!” My father slashed his hand through the air.
“Wasn’t someone closing the fire and bringing her healing herbs? Don’t think I don’t know what goes on in my own house! How could she possibly die?”
His voice cracked on the last word, betraying the doubt beginning to creep in.
Yes, on the first day of my imprisonment, someone did try to help me. Martha, the kindest housekeeper in the mansion and my
closest ally since childhood, had smuggled in a small bundle of healing herbs and helped me to close the fire for a while.
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+15 BONUS
“Hold on, Miss Scarlett,” she had whispered, eyes brimming with tears as she glanced fearfully at the door. “I’ll come back
tomorrow. Just stay strong.”
But she never returned.
