Betrayed By My Mate, Claimed By His Lycan King Uncle
Chapter 79: You can open your eyes now.

Chapter 79: You can open your eyes now.

Sorayah hesitated.

Everything about the moment screamed danger. The air was thick with it, suffocating and impossible to ignore. Yet something in his voice, his unshakable confidence, the calm in the chaos made her heart still against her will.

She swallowed hard and gave a single, reluctant nod. Then, as if she had fallen under a spell, she shut her eyes slowly, her lashes trembling with tension.

What are you planning, Dimitri...?

Suddenly, the air erupted with loud growls and the agonized wails of men. The sounds came from all around, echoing off the stone walls of the slave tower. Sorayah flinched as something warm and wet splattered across her cheek. Her lips parted in a silent gasp, and a coppery scent invaded her nose.

It was blood.

Her instincts screaming at her to open her eyes to look, to understand.

But then his voice resounded inside her skull, firm and unforgiving, almost as if it had been spoken aloud in the very air around her.

"Don’t open your eyes, Sorayah, or you’ll be dead."

Her breath caught in her throat. Her hands clenched into trembling fists at her sides, stiff and unmoving. She dared not disobey, not now. Her heart pounded like a war drum in her chest.

The growls and screams continued and soon there was silence.

Before she could process what had just occurred, a strong hand gripped her waist. She was lifted clean off her feet, cradled firmly in powerful arms. The motion was swift but careful, almost gentle.

She didn’t need to see him to know who it was.

The scent of his cologne, intense, earthy, and spiced with something darker told her everything. It was Dimitri. She could feel it in the way he held her, in the tension of his body as he moved. And so, she remained still, eyes tightly shut, trusting him despite every instinct screaming otherwise.

He carried her through the carnage, through the chaos, until finally he stopped. He lowered her back onto her feet, and at once, the sounds of destruction returned to her awareness. Shouts. Screams. The scent of burning, the weight of fear and blood in the air.

"You can open your eyes now," Dimitri said, his voice edged with seriousness that could not be mistaken.

Slowly, she obeyed.

Her eyes opened and her gaze landed on Dimitri who stood before her, covered in blood from head to toe. His robes were soaked in it, and she realized with a jolt that her own garments were drenched as well, splattered with the blood of fallen guards and slaves alike.

Before she could speak, he addressed her again.

"The soldiers I brought have arrived," he said, his voice calm despite the storm around them. "You’ll go with a group of them, along with the slaves we managed to free. You must leave the city now while we hold the front."

"I..." Sorayah began, but the words faltered on her lips.

Dimitri cut her off swiftly.

"We’ll meet at the front gates of the pack," he added without room for argument. Then, before she could protest, he seized her hand and pulled her behind him, leading her through the smoldering corridors of the slave tower.

They passed through the wreckage, stepping over bodies, some still twitching, others long still. Around them, Dimitri’s soldiers fought ferociously, pushing back against enemy guards still resisting.

Eventually, they emerged into the blinding light outside. Dimitri guided her straight into the arms of a man she recognized faintly, Liam, one of Dimitri’s trusted warriors.

"Go. Go, now!" Dimitri barked, his voice thunderous and commanding.

Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and strode back into the tower like a god of death, his presence alone radiating dominance and fury.

Liam wasted no time. He swept Sorayah onto the back of his horse in one fluid motion, settling her behind him. She clutched his coat instinctively, trying not to fall as the stallion surged forward into a gallop.

Behind them, the other freed slaves followed on foot, guarded by soldiers who flanked them protectively in case of ambush. Despite their exhaustion, many of the slaves wept in relief. Others wore stunned, hollow expressions as if their freedom were too much to believe.

The city, once bustling with life, was now a ruin of fire and ash.

Stalls were overturned and shattered along the streets. Bodies, human and werewolf littered the ground, some decapitated, others mangled beyond recognition. The scent of blood and smoke filled Sorayah’s lungs, making her stomach churn.

Sorayah’s heart bled as she took in the horrific scene unfolding before her. This was exactly what had happened in her own kingdom. The memory, one she had fought so desperately to suppress came crashing back, vivid and ruthless.

She remembered it all. The night her kingdom fell.

She saw her father stabbed through the chest with a sword, her mother’s screams silenced as her head was severed from her body. The royal palace drenched in crimson. The crackle of fire. The smell of burning silk and iron.

She hadn’t been meant to be there that night. She had been outside the palace walls, dressed as a common lady. But curiosity or perhaps fate had drawn her back, sneaking in under cover of darkness. What she witnessed broke her. She would’ve been killed too had she been discovered or shown any emotion. But her father’s most trusted warrior had covered her mouth with his bloodied hand, dragging her into silence... into survival.

He didn’t make it out alive. He died while leading her and Lily through the underground passage that allowed them to escape and live among the common humans.

Her vision blurred with unshed tears. Her gaze shifted to a familiar stall, the one that belonged to the old man who had sold her cakes and bread earlier that morning. Now it lay in ruins, soaked in blood.

Part of her wanted to believe he deserved it. That all werewolves deserved this fate. But then... no. The ones truly guilty, the ones she sought to destroy, weren’t just werewolves, they were monsters in every skin. And right now, those same monsters were killing their own kind without mercy or reason.

The horse beneath her surged forward, galloping faster as the chaos of the battlefield roared behind them. Just as they neared the city gates, a sharp whistle sliced through the air followed by a sickening thud.

An arrow pierced Sorayah’s back.

A strangled cry escaped her lips as blood filled her mouth. She gasped, clutching at Liam’s coat as her vision flickered.

"Sorayah!" Liam cried out in alarm, glancing back with wide, panicked eyes. "Are you okay?!"

She didn’t answer.

Her lips trembled. Her body trembled. Then everything inside her began to shut down. The poison was fast, too fast. It wasn’t just any arrow. It had been laced with something deadly. Her vision dimmed as the edges of the world began to spin. She could no longer hold on.

More soldiers suddenly emerged, surrounding them before they could reach the gate. These were different, split into two types, both bearing the distinct emblems of the warring factions. Yet their uniforms were unfamiliar.

Liam cursed under his breath as the ambush tightened. "Damn it. Just where the hell did they come from?!"

With no time to think, he fought back.

Dimitri’s soldiers were nearby and joined the fray, but the newly arrived warriors were skilled, unlike the low-ranking grunts Liam had cut down earlier. These fighters were coordinated and ruthless, forcing Liam to draw on every bit of strength and agility he possessed.

Despite knowing Dimitri would soon crush the city entirely, Liam’s mission was clear: he had to protect Sorayah and the others. They had to survive long enough to witness it.

Realizing he couldn’t fight effectively while on horseback, he leapt down and carefully laid Sorayah against a nearby wall. Her body was limp, her skin pale. Blood had soaked the back of her blouse.

"Stay with me," he whispered fiercely. "Don’t you dare die."

Closing his eyes, he channeled a portion of his spiritual power into her body, anchoring her spirit, buying her time, hoping it would be enough until the battle was over.

"I’ll be right back," he said, voice low but filled with determination. He drew his blade again, his energy crackling around him like lightning. "You bastards!"

With a battle cry, Liam launched himself into the enemy ranks, cleaving through soldiers who had foolishly focused only on him, ignoring the other guards and slaves nearby. His strikes were precise, deadly. He moved like a storm incarnate.

Meanwhile, the freed slaves cowered behind carts and walls, their heads bowed, trembling in fear. Their lips moved in silent prayers, desperate to survive the nightmare.

After what felt like hours, the mysterious soldiers began to retreat, melting back into the shadows as if their mission was complete.

Liam exhaled heavily, his chest heaving. Many of Dimitri’s soldiers had fallen but not all. He stared after the retreating enemy, sweat and blood clinging to his brow.

"What kind of soldiers were those?" he muttered to himself, voice hoarse. "And who the hell sent them to focus on me as if they wanted something from me?"

He turned back toward the spot where he had left Sorayah.

She was gone.

Panic seized him like a vice.

"What?! Where did she go?!