Betrayed by Blood, Claimed by the Alpha
Chapter 64

Chapter 64: Chapter 64

Betrayed by Blood~

They had been walking for almost ten minutes and still hadn’t reached the safe place the warrior had spoken about. "This doesn’t feel right," Avery said, slowing her steps. She looked around. They were away from the pack house now, heading towards the south border, which was surprisingly calm for how chaotic the pack was.

The warrior’s grip tightened. "It’s just ahead," he insisted, his tone sharp enough to make her skin crawl.

Avery looked around, her anxiety suddenly shooting up. She swallowed hard and took a step back, wrenching her hand free. "Where exactly are we going? How far is it? Maybe we should head back. It already looks calm, and I’m sure—" the words died down her throat as she saw his expression change. The false friendliness dropped, replaced with an irritated scowl. His jaw tightened, as though he couldn’t stand the sound of her voice.

"Keep walking," he snapped irritably, his patience thinning.

Avery’s pulse quickened, a cold sweat breaking out on her skin. Her instincts were screaming at her to run. "I’m not going anywhere else with you," she said. "Take me back to the packhouse."

The man sighed with exasperation, his facade of patience slipping away. "You really shouldn’t have made this so difficult," he muttered under his breath.

Before Avery could respond, a hand clamped over her mouth from behind. She thrashed wildly, panic overtaking her as she realized she’d been led into a trap.

"Quiet," a gruff voice hissed in her ear. "Don’t make this harder than it needs to be."

________________________________________

Avery blinked slowly, her vision blurry, her head throbbing painfully, and her body feeling like it had been dragged through rails. She winced and then blinked again, trying to focus on her surroundings. The room was dimly lit, the walls unfinished and crumbling. Dust and the stench of decay filled her nose.

"Where am I?" she whispered hoarsely, struggling to sit up.

Her breath hitched as she took in the figures looming in the shadows. Men—at least ten of them—stared at her with predatory eyes. Their appearances were grotesque, matted hair, filthy clothes, and rotting teeth. The smell of sweat and rot was suffocating, choking her. Memories of what had happened to her came flooding into her head, and she gasped out loud.

"You’re awake," one of them rasped, his voice light, his grin widened, revealing teeth so yellow they could have been rotting. "We were starting to think you wouldn’t join us for the fun." They all laughed at this.

Avery flinched at his words, her heart racing as she tried to push herself back against the wall.

"Look at this," one of them growled lowly, his voice raspy. "A pretty little thing, all alone. All for us." He said, grinning wide.

Avery’s heart sped, her body trembling as she looked around, desperate for a way of escape, but there was none. They’d blocked every entrance.

Another chuckled darkly. "It’s been too long since we had a woman in our hands."

Avery’s stomach churned with terror. She tried to scoot back, but her body felt weak, and there was nowhere to go.

"Stay back!" she cried, her voice breaking. "Don’t come near me!" She screamed out loud.

One of the rogues stepped forward, licking his rotten teeth as his eyes raked over her body. "Oh, we’ll come near you, sweetheart. Real near." He snickered.

Avery shook her head, tears already welling up in her eyes. This couldn’t be happening to her. It just couldn’t! Why does this always happen to her? She’s a good person. She does everything diligently, so why? Why must she always be the one constantly dragged into situations like this? Is her life so fickle that the goddess has taken it as a joke?

Her thoughts spiraled as the rogues started advancing, their laughter echoing in the room. Avery could barely breathe, the rancid air and her rising panic clawed at her throat.

"She’s scared," one of them sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "I like it when they’re scared."

Another stepped forward, his eyes filled with hunger directed at her. He licked his teeth loudly as he snickered. "Don’t cry, you were specially brought here for us. After this, we’ll let you go." He said and paused, looking over to the others before they all burst out laughing like he’d just made the silliest joke ever.

"You’re giving her hope...that’s mean." Another piped out, his gaze settling on Avery, making her skin crawl. The man suddenly grinned, his rotten teeth showing. "I like mean. Do it again." He snickered.

Avery’s chest tightened as hopelessness sank in. "Please," she cried, her voice breaking. "Don’t do this. Please, just let me go!"

One of the rogues knelt down, his scarred face inches from hers, his disgusting breath making her gag. "Let you go?" he mocked, "Do you think whoever sent you here cared what happened to you? No one’s coming to save you, little girl. You’re ours now."

"W-who sent you to me? Who did this to me?" Avery cried out. These were rogues, but they were different. These rogues weren’t the type that attacked packs and kingdoms. No! These ones were savages. Outcasts even in the rogue definition. They were lowlifes. Disgusting creatures that fed off the scraps given to them.

Avery’s voice cracked as she screamed again, her hands trembling as she clutched at the crumbling floor beneath her. "Stop it," she sobbed, shaking her head wildly. "Why are you doing this? Who sent you?!" She yelled, desperate. How was she ever going to get out of this?

The rogues merely exchanged amused glances, their smiles widening at her panic. One of them, a particularly filthy man with deep scars carving across his face, stepped forward and crouched down to her level. His breath was rancid, his grin filled with mockery.

"Does it matter, sweetheart?" he rasped, leaning closer. "Whoever sent you here didn’t care what happened to you. And neither do we. We were paid, and you’re the prize." He said, grinning and they all laughed again.

"Please," she sobbed, her voice cracking. "Don’t do this."

"Aw, don’t cry, little miss," another rogue said with a sickening grin. His gaze raking over her body hungrily, "We’ll take real good care of you."

"No!" Avery screamed, her voice hoarse. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to scramble away, but her limbs felt like lead.

They started to close in, their twisted smiles sending waves of nausea through her. One of them lunged, grabbing her by the ankle and dragging her back. Avery kicked wildly, her feet slamming into his chest, making him grunt.

"Feisty!" he spat, his grin widening. "I like that." He then leaned forward, sniffing the air around her, his eyes widened, and soon he started frothing at the mouth. He turned to the others. "We’re gonna feast good today. This one is in preheat." his tone dripping with glee.

"What? Really? Did we hit the jackpot?" Another said, his eyes gleaming with hunger.

"We did!...oh, this is gonna be so good. This one is special." The first one grinned wide, his eyes settling on Avery again. They began to munch closer to her.

"No!" Avery screamed, tears streaming down her face as she thrashed against their advancing hands. "Please, don’t do this! Someone, help me!"

Her cries fell on deaf ears. Rough hands grabbed her arms and legs, pinning her down as she fought desperately, her nails scraping against their filthy skin.

"No!" she sobbed, her vision blurring again as her strength began to wane. Her voice was raw as she screamed for help, for anyone to save her.

And then, she heard it.

A low, animalistic growl that sent shivers down her spine and silenced the rogues instantly.

The air seemed to grow heavier as a figure appeared in the doorway. His presence was suffocating and heavy. The rogues stepped back instinctively.

Cain.

He was covered in blood, his eyes glowing murderously, his fangs bared in a snarl that promised death. His chest heaved with barely contained rage as he surveyed the scene, his gaze locking onto Avery for a brief moment before shifting to the rogues.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" Cain snarled venomously, his voice low, sending chills through the rogues.

The rogues faltered, fear flashing in their eyes, but it was too late for them.

Cain lunged forward. His wrath was insane. The first rogue barely had time to scream before Cain’s claws tore through his throat. Blood sprayed across the room as chaos erupted.

The rogues scrambled to fight back, but they were nothing compared to him. He moved like a shadow of death. Their bodies torn apart, cries of pain filled the air, and bodies hit the ground in a horrific manner.

The last thing she saw before falling unconscious was Cain standing in the middle of the room, every of the rogue’s severed body on the floor.

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