Transmigrated: The Lycan King's Pet
Chapter 61 Injustice (Bonus)

Chapter 61: Chapter 61 Injustice (Bonus)

’We are here, Ember, is all you have to say? These werewolves are all crazy. Damon is a bonafide psychopath who couldn’t even see through the scheme.’ I shakily brought my hands down, before walking towards him.

I stopped beside him. As I glanced at the cell, I scrunched my face at the stench coming from within the cell.

"Don’t worry, Ember, I’ll see what I can do for you," he walked closer. "Just a word of advice: if you see Alpha Damon when he comes to interrogate you, don’t say anything. It is better than you trying to talk your way out." His gaze turned serious.

He moved his head to the side, indicating I should step inside the cell. I obeyed him and entered the cell, even when I had a lot of questions I wanted to ask.

He closed the cell door. My hand clamped onto the iron rod, pressing myself against the bar. "Thanks for the heads-up... can you..." I trailed off.

"Ask me anything, Ember, you don’t have to be shy." He smiled warmly at me.

I bit my lips in hesitation. I parted my lips, forcing the word out of my throat. "Can you tell me why the locket is very important to him?"

Alaric stared at me, the smile on his face disappearing. "Unfortunately, I can’t. But all you have to know is that he wouldn’t bat an eye if he had to kill because of it—and that includes you, and any other person... maybe including me also." His voice turned stern.

My face dropped at his words.

"If he can’t find that locket, Ember, all hell will break loose—and I mean it. So if you really took it, you can give it to me, and I’ll just tell him I found it on the ground somewhere."

My fingers tightened around the rod. I scoffed, laughing in frustration. "But I don’t have it, Alaric." I pressed my head between the rods.

He nodded his head. "Fine. If you are not the one, then you definitely can’t have it with you now. Anyways, good luck." Without another word, he turned and left.

My legs buckled underneath, and I slumped down against the bar. The sting from my knees and my neck became more painful. I scanned around the cell. It was dark and filthy, with a single mattress lying in the right corner.

"At least I’m lucky enough to have a bed," I muttered under my breath.

I rested my head on the bar of the cell room. I closed my eyes, tired from the exhaustion of trying to prove myself right.

My eyes snapped open at the sounds of keys jangling and iron clanking. I didn’t know when I fell asleep. I blinked to clear my sight. When the door to my cell room creaked open, two guards rushed inside. Without another word, they yanked me up to my feet, pulling me out.

"What is going on? Where are you all taking me to?" I cried, the soreness from my knees radiating through my bones.

They didn’t utter a word. They stopped when we arrived in front of another cell room. From the open bar, different torturing tools hung on the wall and tables. The room was dimly lit by the two torches hanging on the opposite side of the walls.

"No... no." I whimpered, stepping back. One of the guards held me in place as the door to my doom creaked open. A figure sat on a chair; his posture was regal and his presence commanded respect. I didn’t need to see his face to know he was Damon.

The guard pulled me further, pushing me onto my knees in front of him. My ruffled hair fell over my face, knees screamed in pain. And I dared not look up at him.

"Alpha," they greeted.

Then, the only thing I could hear was the receding steps of the guards before the door to the cell snapped closed, sealing my fate in Damon’s hand.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice calm.

"I dare not... Master. I dare not," I muttered.

"Why not? You should be able to look at me if you have the guts to steal from me."

"I didn’t steal from you."

I was already tired of saying one fucking sentence time and time again. Why can’t they hear me out? And why won’t they believe anything I said?

"I see you really want me to torture you."

I trembled, as his hot breath fanned over my ears. His frame towered over me like a giant wall.

"I don’t! Why don’t you investigate this? You can investigate all the activities I did earlier today, and you would get the answers if I was anywhere near your room after you sent me out." My lips quivered, my breath ragged.

He leaned back. "You are trying to say that I’m not a good leader, right? That I can’t do basic things?" The calmness from his voice made my back straighten. "And it was yesterday the incident happened, as it is already midnight," he added.

I sniffled, trying hard not to cry in front of him. "I thought even though we were master and pet, you would understand and trust me to that extent. How could you claim I’m a thief just like that? We have gone through a lot together for you to suspect me."

I know Alaric had warned me to stay quiet, but how could I, against such injustice? My nails dug into my palm.

"You are the only one who could access my room, Ember—and not to talk about your scent... no one can imitate it, because your scent is different from most werewolves," he said with a click of his tongue.

From all his words, my brain could only pick one word. ’Imitate.’ I looked up, meeting his gaze. "You mean someone can imitate my scent?" My voice dripped with hope.

His gaze furrowed. He sighed. "Yes, they can. But that is only something witches can do. I have no witch in my pack, as I had already burnt them at the stake." His gaze darkened.