My eyes flicked from Alex to the two men, my voice low and cold. “Who are these?”
“The ones who did this to Anna,” Alex replied without hesitation, his tone clipped, professional, but there was a trace of anger there too.
I frowned, my jaw tightening. “So strange. I thought it might’ve been her. The way she smirked…” My eyes flicked back to the van, the muscle in my cheek twitching. “Wasn’t it Alpha King George’s daughter?”
“I haven’t interrogated them yet,” Alex said, keeping his tone even. “But they’re the ones behind the scandal too. And also the ones who pushed Anna down the stairs.”
As soon as Alex finished speaking, the two men inside the van laughed, their muffled voices coming out as ugly, taunting sounds through their gagged mouths. Alex’s jaw tightened and he barked at them,
“Keep shut!” The men only smirked harder under their blindfolds.
My teeth ground together, my hands curling into fists so tight my knuckles ached.
“Drive,” I ordered, my voice deep and sharp like a blade. “Drive to the pack’s dungeon.”
“Yes, Alpha,” Alex replied immediately, moving to the driver’s seat without another word. The van pulled out, its wheels crunching against the pavement. I pulled out my phone as we sped away and sent a quick text to my father, my fingers moving quite fast while my heart pounded..
‘I’ll be back soon. Taking care of something.’
Then I fired off another text to the head warrior of the pack, who also doubled as the head of police, Jim, a young man just a little older than myself.
Jim was the son of the previous head warrior, who had worked for my father for years before retiring, and now it was his turn to serve me.’Bring men to the dungeon now.’
I got a reply almost immediately.
‘Yes, Alpha.’
My eyes glowed faintly, a dangerous mix of red, blue, and yellow, the colors of fire burning in my veins. My wolf was restless, my anger building with every breath. Anna’s face flashed in my mind, pale and still on the hospital bed, completely unaware of what had happened to her. I gripped my phone tighter.
By the time the van rolled through the gates of the pack’s house, a massive building my father had designed over the years for all things related to the pack, I was seething. Tonight, it was going to be put to its darkest use.
Alex climbed out of the driver’s seat, opened the back of the van, and dragged the two men out without an ounce of gentleness. Their boots scuffed against the ground, their bodies jerking as they stumbled. I didn’t lift a finger to help; I just watched with cold eyes, my aura pressing down on everyone as if a storm was making the air heavy.
They were guided into the interrogating room, a stark, soundproof chamber deep inside the building. The two men were shoved into chairs, their hands still cuffed, their eyes still blindfolded, their mouths still gagged.
I stepped closer and ripped the gags from their mouths myself, my voice low and deadly as I asked, “Who sent you to do this?”
They both chuckled darkly, the one with the piercings licking blood from his lip. “No one sent us,” he said, his tone mocking. “We just wanted to do it ourselves.”
My jaw flexed as I asked again, my voice colder this time. “Who sent you?”
The man with the tattoos smirked. “You’re wasting your time.”
My hand moved before I even realized it. I struck the man with the piercings across the face, the impact so strong it knocked the other one sideways too. The tattooed man’s teeth clattered as some fell to the floor, his mouth filling with blood. For a split second even I was shocked at the force of my own blow.
I leaned in, my voice a growl. “I’ll ask one more time. Who sent you?”RYAN’S POV
The tattooed man spat blood at the floor and sneered. “You can’t do a thing. You’re nothing but the son of the Alpha King. You’re not your father, so no matter what you do, I’ll never be scared of you.”
My lips curled into a slow, cold smirk. “We’ll see about that.”
The door burst open just then and Head Warrior Jim entered with his assistant Saul. Both men bowed slightly.” Where are the rest?” I asked without looking away from the captives.
“They’re guarding the surroundings,” Jim replied.
“Good.” My voice was like steel. “Take them to the dungeon. Since they don’t want the easy method of interrogation, let’s see how much they love the other method.”
“Yes, Alpha,” Jim and Saul said in unison. They dragged the men out as they struggled, their boots scraping against the floor. I followed, my expression unreadable.
The dungeon was a dark, sprawling space lined with iron and stone. It had been built for moments exactly like this, and tonight it smelled of blood and rage. The two men were forced into iron chairs bolted to the floor. Their hands were cuffed to the arms of the chairs, their blindfolds ripped off so they were forced to look at the Alpha they’d mocked.
“Switch it on,” I ordered flatly.
Alex flicked a switch on the wall, and the iron chairs began to steam as heat coursed through them. The two men jerked, their faces twisting as the metal beneath them grew hot, their muffled groans turning into shouts. I crouched down to their level, my eyes glowing faintly. “This is just the beginning. The worst is yet to come. So if you love yourselves, you’ll spill.”
They glared back at me, silent, their jaws set. “No one sent us,” the tattooed one repeated, even as his skin began to redden against the iron. “We did it ourselves.”
I gave a small nod to Jim and Saul, who were already holding whips. “Strike until I tell you to stop.”
The whips cracked through the air and landed hard across the men’s bodies. They screamed, twisting against their restraints, but the blows kept coming. I sat back in a chair opposite them, my eyes cold, watching without blinking as their clothes tore and blood began to streak their skin. They underestimated me. I let out a low, dark chuckle.
Ten minutes passed before I finally raised a hand. “Stop.”
By then the men were weak, trembling, their bodies sagging against the restraints. Alex switched off the electricity connected to the chairs. I leaned forward, my voice quiet but sharp. “Who sent you?”
The tattooed man lifted his head, his voice hoarse but defiant. “No matter what you do, you won’t get anything from us. I’d rather die.”6.99
My smirk returned, colder this time. “Die? Don’t worry, dear. Death will be far away from you. Dying isn’t an option here.”
I turned to Jim. “Get the daggers.”
The men’s eyes widened. “What-what are you going to do to us?” the tattooed one asked, his voice cracking. I chuckled without warmth.
“You’ll see.”
Jim and Saul each grabbed a dagger and stood ready. My voice was low but deadly. “Now.”
The daggers stabbed down into each man’s right hand, breaking through bone. Blood gushed down onto the iron. My voice was cold as ice. “That’s for pushing the only woman I care about.”
The men screamed, their voices echoing off the dungeon walls. “Again,” I ordered. This time it was their left hands. They begged for mercy, but the blows landed anyway.
“Switch it on,” I said, and Alex flicked the electricity back on. The iron chairs hissed with heat again, burning their skin as their broken hands bled. Jim and Saul kept striking, their faces grim. The smell of scorched flesh filled the air.
One of the men slumped forward, close to passing out. I signaled Alex, who fetched a small vial and injected it into the man’s arm. Within moments the man jerked back awake, his eyes wide with terror. Death was not coming for him.
I chuckled low in my throat. “You’ll beg for death, but you won’t find it.”
The men whimpered now, their defiance cracking but still not breaking. “We have to protect our families,” one of them stammered, his voice barely a whisper.
My head tilted slightly. “So you have families,” I said, my chuckle turning darker. “Good to know.”
I nodded to Alex, who cut the power, then turned back to the men. “Flip them onto their backs and stretch them out,” I ordered, my voice low and hard. “Tie their wrists and ankles to the four poles so their bodies are lying in midair with nothing under them.”
Jim and Saul obeyed immediately, unfastening the men from the chairs and stringing them up in midair, their bodies suspended, their wrists and ankles tied to opposite poles. They begged, their voices cracking, but my eyes stayed hard.
A fire was lit, and irons were shoved into the flames until they glowed red-hot. The men’s eyes widened as they watched, panic creeping in. “What are you going to do?” one of them whispered.
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