My heart felt like it had stopped beating entirely as I watched him study me, his golden eyes narrowing in curiosity. Was this part of the torture? Were they planning to make my death slow and agonizing? My body refused to obey me; every muscle was frozen, leaving me shaking like a leaf caught in a storm. He was built like a Greek god-broad shoulders, sculpted muscles, and skin kissed by a perfect tan. Everything about him screamed danger. I had no doubt he could snap my neck with a single hand.
I scooted back, inching away until my back hit the cold, unforgiving wall. He didn't stop his approach, his gaze fixed on me like a predator toying with its prey. For a brief moment, I almost wished he would just kill me already. The fear of what he might do was far worse than death itself. My mind raced with all the horrible possibilities.
He crouched down, bringing himself level with me. I screamed-an ear-splitting sound that tore through the silence, making my own eardrums ache. He moved slowly, almost gently, placing his hand near the side of my neck, just behind my ear. A shiver ran through me at the touch of his skin, warm and deceptively soft. Then everything went black.
When I regained consciousness, my eyes snapped open, and my heart began racing all over again. Panic surged through me, making it hard to breathe. I squeezed my eyes shut and whispered a desperate prayer, "Please, let this be a nightmare. Please, God..."
"Oh, this is definitely going to be your worst living nightmare," a dry, croaky voice said, startling me.
I jolted upright, only to slam my head into something solid above me. I winced in pain, blinking rapidly as I realized I was in complete darkness. "What is this?" I gasped, my voice cracking as I reached out with trembling hands. Cold metal met my touch, and a horrible realization dawned on me: I was inside a tiny cage. The space was so small I could barely shift my body. I started to hyperventilate, feeling the walls close in around me. "No... no... no! Oh God, please!"
"God?" the voice replied, dripping with sarcasm. "There is no God that's going to save you here. Save your breath, human."
It took a moment for my brain to register that someone else was here with me. I sniffled, swallowing my sobs, knowing that crying would do nothing to help me escape this nightmare. "Who are you? Where are we? What is this place?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.
"I'm Vladivostok," the voice replied with a bitter chuckle. "But you can call me Vlad. Welcome to hell, sweetheart-the beasts' lair."
"Their lair?" My voice shook with disbelief.
"Yes, their home," he answered, his tone flat and emotionless.
I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. This was bad. Very, very bad. "Why are we still alive? We shouldn't be alive," I said, my voice breaking. Being kept in these cages like this-it was worse than death. It was a fate that promised suffering far beyond what I could imagine.
I gripped the cage's metal bars and rattled them, the chains clinking loudly in the darkness. There had to be a way out of this. I wasn't dead yet, which meant I had a chance. I had to try.
"Stop wasting your energy," Vlad said with a dry cough, his voice sounding parched, as if he hadn't had water in days. "You're not getting out of here. You're still alive because they want you alive. Whoever took an interest in you decided to keep you-for amusement, for pleasure, or for something far worse."
His words sent a fresh wave of fear coursing through me. I squeezed my eyes shut, pulling at my hair in desperation. The man-the creature-from earlier flashed in my mind, his golden eyes burning into my memory. I did not want to be at the mercy of these monsters.
"What do they do to you?" I whispered, dreading the answer.
For a moment, he was silent. Then, with a voice that sounded as hollow as an empty grave, he said, "They destroy you. They take away every last piece of your soul, drain every ounce of hope, until you're nothing but an empty shell-a puppet for their entertainment."
Before I could respond, the sound of a heavy door creaking open echoed through the darkness. My entire body froze, breath caught in my throat. The footsteps that followed were heavy, deliberate, each step sending a spike of fear into my chest. They were coming for me.
My cage door rattled as it was unlocked, and large, rough hands grabbed me, pulling me out with little effort. I stumbled, unable to see in the darkness, and didn't even try to resist. What would be the point? This was their domain. I was just a mouse in a den full of snakes.
The sudden brightness of a corridor's lights stung my eyes, making me squint. The walls were a dull, industrial gray, stretching on endlessly as the bulky man dragged me forward. The corridor was narrow, with countless twists and turns. I couldn't keep track of where we were going; it felt like we were moving deeper into a labyrinth.
Finally, we arrived at a staircase that led up to a room. It looked like an office-nothing like the decrepit spaces I'd seen for years. There were bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes, a luxurious couch, a polished wooden desk, and even a sleek laptop. I didn't have time to take in more before the man yanked me back into the corridor.
He pulled me into another room, this one stark and empty except for a single chair and a small table. He released me roughly, shoving me forward before slamming the door behind him. I barely had time to breathe before two women entered.
They were stunning, with features so perfect they looked otherworldly. The blonde, with icy blue eyes, grabbed my arm so hard I winced, while the brunette slapped me across the face with a force that sent me sprawling to the floor.
"Strip her," the blonde commanded, her voice cold and emotionless.
I tried to resist, but it was pointless. Within seconds, I was on the floor, completely naked. "Please... stop," I begged, feeling exposed and humiliated.
The brunette, Anna, handed a flimsy, black dress to the blonde. It was sheer, practically see-through. Anna tossed it at me and dragged me to my feet.
"He will like this," the blonde said, her lips curling into a satisfied smirk as she looked me over.
They dragged me into a dining hall. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst from my chest. The dress clung to me, revealing everything, leaving me feeling utterly vulnerable. My eyes darted around the room until they landed on him.
The man from earlier sat at the head of a long table, his golden eyes locked onto me. He looked like a prince out of a storybook-blond hair neatly styled, flawless skin, and an air of cold, detached beauty.
"Come," he said calmly, his voice smooth and authoritative.
I took a tentative step forward. The women behind me made sure I had no choice but to obey.
"Closer," he commanded. I obeyed, moving slowly, every nerve screaming at me to run.
"Sit," he said, and I sank into the chair, my body stiff with fear. He reached out and gently took a strand of my black curls between his fingers. "Beautiful," he murmured. "You are mine now."
A shiver ran down my spine, and I stared at him, unable to speak. All I wanted was to escape, but there was nowhere to go.
A large man entered the room. "Beta Elijah, the Alpha requires your presence for the feast," he announced.
Elijah's golden eyes lit up with a flicker of excitement, though his expression remained calm. "Ah, perfect timing," he said, rising to his feet. He gestured for me to follow. "Come."
My blood ran cold. He was taking me to a feast, dressed like this. Was this where they would kill me-or worse?
My mind was racing with a whirlwind of thoughts. I couldn't stop replaying the image of Armani's death-the way they tore her apart like she was nothing. Armani was dead. She was gone, and I would never see her again. They had taken the only family I had left in this world. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the memory, but it was impossible.
My mother had died when I was only five. Diabetes had slowly drained the life out of her. After my father left us, she drowned herself in alcohol, ignoring every warning from the doctors. I was still just a child, but I remembered it all vividly, like a scar etched into my brain. No one came to save me. Instead, they dumped me into an orphanage like a piece of unwanted trash. No one wanted me. I stayed there until I turned sixteen, and then I ran. I found a part-time job, started scraping by on my own, and just when I thought I was beginning to make it, the world fell apart.
The beasts took over. They destroyed every city, every building, ripping through concrete and steel like it was paper. They tore apart anything and anyone in their way. Back then, I wanted to die. I thought it was a sign-a sign that I wasn't meant to survive. My whole life had been a nightmare, but then Armani found me. She took me in when I had no one. She became my family, my safe place. And now she was gone.
My chest ached with grief, but I couldn't afford to let the sorrow consume me. I had to stay focused. I wondered if everyone else was okay. I prayed they had managed to survive this far. I couldn't bear the thought of losing anyone else.
My chaotic thoughts were abruptly interrupted as we stepped into a large courtyard. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses. It looked like a celebration. My eyes widened in shock at the sight before me. Men and women were dressed like me-in sheer, revealing clothing-and they all had collars around their necks, most of them in gleaming gold. They were slaves, just like I was now. So, this was it. I was Elijah's property now.
I followed behind him silently, keeping my head down. Two men approached Elijah with cheerful smiles. It was almost unsettling how human they looked, how they could laugh and converse like ordinary people. If you didn't know better, you might mistake them for humans. They talked and joked, blending in so seamlessly that it made my skin crawl.
"Ah, Elijah! How was your trip?" one of the men asked, his voice smooth and friendly. He had rich, chocolate-brown skin and large, expressive doe eyes.
Elijah gave a slight smile. "Marcel, it's good to see you again. The trip was productive."
Marcel's gaze shifted to me, his lips curling into a cheeky grin. "You even brought back a little pet, I see. Spoils of war... We almost thought you'd never get one for yourself."
"It was about time," Marcel continued, glancing over at the second man. "See, Arnold? I told you he would eventually give in. Every beast needs a slave."
Arnold, a tall man with wavy, shoulder-length hair the color of dirt, gave a nonchalant shrug. He wasn't as muscular as the others, but he had an intimidating presence. "Hmm, yes," he muttered, as if he couldn't care less.
Elijah changed the topic quickly. "Where is the Alpha?"
Arnold scanned the area, his eyes darting from face to face. "You know him-he likes to take his time."
Marcel folded his muscular arms over his chest. "Always fashionably late," he said with a chuckle. "But let's enjoy ourselves before things get intense."
Elijah nodded, taking a glass from one of the servants passing by with a tray. The drink looked like wine, but who knew what it really was? I forced myself to look away, the thought of what they might be consuming turning my stomach.
Elijah led me towards a section of the courtyard that was clearly reserved for a select group. The seats were plush, draped in fine fabrics-a stark contrast to the hard, cold floor I was used to. It looked like a VIP area, close to a larger, golden throne-like seat. Elijah sat down, then motioned for me to kneel behind him where the other slaves of the high-ranking beasts were gathered. I obeyed, sinking down quietly.
A beautiful woman with bright blonde hair sat next to Elijah, her smile almost warm. "Elijah," she greeted him, her voice smooth and melodic. Her slave, a large, muscular man with dark brown hair, stood obediently beside her. He was strikingly handsome, with blue eyes that mirrored her own.
"Becca," Elijah replied with a nod. "How have you been?"
Becca gestured for her slave to kneel before she responded, her smile fading slightly. "I've been well. Your brother hasn't arrived yet."
Elijah smirked, sipping his drink. "He'll arrive when he pleases. Perks of being the leader."
Becca pursed her lips, looking annoyed but didn't reply. Her hair was almost white in its brilliance, and her blue eyes were sharp and icy. She was easily one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen, yet there was something unsettling about her, something that made my skin crawl.
I swallowed hard, feeling the dryness in my throat. I couldn't remember the last time I had any water. The slave next to me, the handsome man with the dark brown hair, gave me a small nod and a sympathetic smile. I returned the gesture, guessing that speaking out loud wasn't allowed.
"Jordan," he whispered, barely audible.
I managed a faint smile. "Liz," I whispered back.
He leaned closer. "Just stay invisible, Liz. If you do, it won't be so bad."
I nodded, grateful for his kindness, but before I could say anything more, the slaves around us shushed us. A sudden silence fell over the entire courtyard. Everyone stopped talking and moving, their gazes shifting towards the grand entrance. My heart pounded in my chest. It felt like the air itself was charged with tension. This had to be the Alpha. He must have been someone of immense importance.
The large doors ahead creaked open, and a figure stepped through. My breath caught in my throat. He was dressed in black from head to toe, the dark fabric clinging to his powerful frame. His jet-black hair, long and wavy, framed a face that could have belonged to a fallen angel-sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and lips that curled into a slight, knowing smirk. But it was his eyes that held me captive-silver-gray, almost transparent, like shards of ice. They scanned the room, and when they landed on me, I felt like I was staring into the void.
I held my breath, feeling the tiny hairs on my arms stand up. This man was different. His very presence felt like raw power. It radiated off him in waves, suffocating the air around us. He moved with a deadly grace, every step purposeful, as if the earth itself bowed beneath his feet.
He stopped in front of the golden seat, then turned. His silver eyes locked onto mine, and a strange, almost predatory smile spread across his face. I felt a shiver of pure terror course through me. I coughed-of all things, I fucking coughed-drawing everyone's attention to me. It was as if time itself had frozen. I knew then that I was dead.
"Mate," he said, his voice a low, resonant growl that sent a chill down my spine. He started walking towards me, and it felt like death was coming for me.
