The Werewolves' Queen

3

There will be inappropriate content that may upset some readers. Although I'll try to keep it to a minimum, I'll put a 🛑 before it starts and a 🟢 after it ends. There will still be some mentions of it in rest of the chapters and occasional mentions in the story. If slight violence upsets you, don't read this chapter. Skip it.

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When they went back, Stephanie told Violet to take the bags to her room. Violet did so and came back, only to find Owen sitting on the couch.

Violet bit her lips. She did have to deal with him sooner or later. So why not finish it now?

But as Violet passed him, he seemed to avoid her. Violet thought he didn't see her. It would be nice if he didn't. Violet went to the kitchen to make herself some tea. As she grabbed her mug and set it on the counter, someone grabbed her from the behind.

"Violet, what are you doing?" a sharp voice came from behind.

Violet turned to find Owen glaring daggers at her. His eyes were sharp and wide. Violet mentally frowned. She'd never seen Owen like that. He'd always wail to Stephanie. 

"Making tea," Violet replied, scanning Owen's emotions that were vivid through his blue eyes.

He suddenly chuckled. "You know that you'd never be chosen? Why did you choose that dress?"

Violet swallowed. She didn't exactly go through the price before she took it to Stephanie. 

Violet said nothing.

He chuckled yet again, "Stephanie isn't home to stop me. And I do have something to have against you now, don't I? Tell me, Violet, what should I do to you?"

Violet knew he was making fun of her. She knew what came after that.

"Well, don't you know?" He taunted her.

Violet did nothing. She stayed motionless. It had been years, since the last time, yet here she was.

"Come on then. Time for me to have some fun, no?" he implied.

🛑 

He then grabbed Violet by the hair while she refused to move. The past memories haunting her all the way as he took her downstairs, to the basement. He tied her up to the pole. 

Violet was petrified, not from fear, but from her memories, they came crashing down on her like flashbacks. You can't move when you are in a flashback. 

Just as Violet could see a little clear, he grabbed a belt and delivered the first blow.

Violet didn't scream. She would have, if her vocal cords obeyed her. But it rebelled and got did nothing. After the first, he stopped for merely two seconds before delivering the second.

 It wasn't that she wasn't afraid, it was just that she couldn't wrap her mind around it: He was beating her over the price of a dress.

It couldn't have cost that much, and he did have enough money. He was wealthier than most humans, and could pass as one of the wealthiest humans. But no, it wasn't enough for him. He didn't have any to waste on Violet. 

The third blow was landed right where the first blow hit her, and the pain went higher. It was climbing a mountain, except it was easy for the pain to reach the highest point. 

Owen wants to test her. According to Owen her mother could take on a lot, if she was her daughter, she could too. 

Violet didn't really care about that though. She wasn't her mother. She was totally another person. How could he expect her to be like her mother?

Maybe it was that he didn't expect her at all to be like her mother. 

His beating rate went higher. He delivered around 20 blows per second, or that was what Violet felt like. And, he didn't stop with numbering the blows, he also seemed to target the same spot and the blow landed there, each time.

Tears began to form in Violet's eyes. She bit her lip and held on. The strap of leather was cutting her deep. Not only was it physical, but Owen's words made it mental too. Violet tried to shake her head. He wouldn't do anything to her. He couldn't. 

Violet knew she had to be stronger than this, but the thing was: she wasn't ready. In the past, she'd always be alert for a whipping, alert and awake, but now, a short period of time with no beatings and she's casual. 

Violet was disappointed at herself.

After he was done, Violet couldn't move. She couldn't do anything. Her back was bruised, her clothes stained with blood.

Owen grabbed her by the neck and pushed her to her room and sneered, "That was for your birthday gift, bitch. Now, hurry and clean up and you aren't allowed to leave the room until tomorrow, and only for the Ball. If I see you outside before that, you are dead."

🟢

Violet sighed. 

She still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that Owen did that all just for an expensive dress she had. 

If it was starting again, Violet should be on alert. She sighed.

It was true that Violet probably won't be chosen, so why did she choose that dress?

Maybe in fear of what Stephanie would otherwise have chosen for her? Maybe because she had to choose one?

She sighed again.

She knew her life was never stable, always full of surprises, but beatings? Those died out ages ago! 

With great difficulty, Violet shakily rose to her feet and went to the bathroom. She then turned the cold-water tap and drew herself a bath. After it filled, she turned the tap off and removed her clothes. She got in and bathed herself while thinking.

She looked down on her current state. She was bruised, her muscles wouldn't co-operate and they were sore, her back ached and her head was heavy for her.

She would pass out any second, but she had experience in staying awake when she was close to passing out. Even though it wasn't needed for the past two years, they came back to Violet when she needed them.

"Humans can do anything if they need to." 

Her mother used to say that to her.

It seemed true to Violet. If it wasn't, she couldn't move. She'd still be lying, face down on the tile on her room's floor. 

After she finished, she locked the door and dropped to her bed as exhaustion claimed over her.