Chloe’s pov
My knuckles were white as I clutched the barb-tipped whip, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps as tears burned down my cheeks. At my feet, Nash lay forward on his knees, his broad back a ruined, bleeding lattice of dark red gashes where the ten lashes had torn through his bare skin.
"Time's up, Alpha," Fernando sneered, stepping into the center of the passage.
His bare chest glistened with cold sweat, the foul sulfur stench of his rotting silver wound rolling off him in waves. He looked down at Nash's battered frame, a triumphant, cruel smirk twisting his scarred face.
"Your contract is void," Fernando rasped, gesturing to his sentries. "She doesn't belong to Red Moon. She belongs to the southern ridge."
Shaun stepped forward with two heavy-set rogues, grabbing the iro
