Torture

Alpha Damien, the great and prestigious Alpha of the red moon pack and one of the strongest, leading billionaires and businessmen of all time, stood right at the door of the kitchen, from which Courtney had just left. His cold gaze, glazed against the body of that woman and in comprehensive pain followed by rage, overwhelmed him.

He wanted to just shred her into pieces.

Ariel immediately cringed, knowing absolutely what it felt like to be close to him.

It was like death, the hand of death clutching her, clawing at her and choking her. But, instead of it taking her, it toiled with her.

She had suffered endless times by this hand, this traumatic mental torment to know instantly who it was—who had entered her presence.

Her legs voluntarily carried her to the very edge of the kitchen, where her back hit against a wall. If she could run into it, she would…if only she could simply disappear.

A whimper escaped her mouth, as her heart raced inside her chest and her body jolted with fear, fear of what he would want this time. But, who cared what he wanted? His presence alone was misery.

He didn’t withdraw his eyes from her. His ocean-blue, rover eyes were like steel, iron, piercing her heart and burning her very skin, down to her soul.

His broad body and magnificent physique made the kitchen a little too small. It seemed like the air around had suddenly died out, leaving nothing for her to breathe in.

His golden hair looked wet and bright under the kitchen light and the surrounding aura was cold, feisty, and devilish.

Damien had not come to the kitchen for anything else, aside from wholly checking on the little slave he had in his custody. He had been away for some days and had only returned. His return was triumphant both for business and for his pack, and a potent celebration was going on outside, but he just had to make sure that the traitor was still alive, he wouldn't let her die easily, nor would he let her live…easily.

She had to experience the pain, the exact pain he felt years ago. It had become a routine over the years, to come check on her, just to be sure that she wasn’t dead yet, and to make sure that she was suffering enough.

Anything could be done to her. He wouldn’t care about it, but she had to be alive and to be certain, he came himself to look at her.

Ariel shrank into herself the more he glared at her, and so did her entire being, wobbling within his presence. She wished that he would go away. It was a usual thing for him to be there, to be sure that she wasn’t dead, but she would never get used to such hate, such power and such rage.

Her wishes deteriorated, and her heart stopped beating when he didn’t just leave. He started towards her.

Death and dread clawed at her and clogged her. The surrounding air went stiff, and it looked like life was being sucked out of her.

She grabbed the hem of her ragged gown and held it tightly with her fist, while her eyes remained on the floor and her lips jammed tightly together to stop herself from whimpering.

He sniffed the air, satisfied by the smell of her fear, yet it just wasn’t enough. No matter how much he watched her suffer, no matter how much he made her suffer, it wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t enough to take away the pain digging deep into his soul, it wasn’t going to bring his father back, nor was it going to change the fact that he had suffered all these years. No matter how much he tortured her, it just wasn’t enough and until he had enough, he wouldn’t stop.

He sometimes fought with his inner self, which told him she wasn't the murderer, and she was young when the whole incident occurred, but still…

He stopped in front of her and watched her tremble before him. A dark look came over his face, his cold appearance illuminating his face as he stared down at her.

He was far from being over with her. He had not even started with her. Not when he lost everything, not when he lost family, love, and completion.

With the memories of that fateful night resurfacing in his mind, his rage only intensified. He recalled the blood, the blood and all the blood.

His rage burned and in such an instant, she slowly lifted her gaze to meet his steel – cold ones. His blue eyes had turned darker and, like lava had poured on her skin, it burned.

She screamed as he raised his claws and clawed her arms.

Once again, the torture returned, and he continued until she was simply on the floor, in the pool of her blood and unconscious.

That would be enough until he returns from his trip.

He spat at her as he left her limp on the floor.