Chapter 5: The Devil in Wolf's Clothing

Sasha wished she never lied that she was the one who broke the vase. She should have not welcomed Ansel at midnight, eaten his cake and made love with him for the first time.

         “Alpha…” Sasha whimpered, bile rising up her throat. She must endure the pain; she is Cal’s property. She has no freedom. She has no right to tell the Alpha to stop.

Above all, her life has never been hers in the first place.

         The Alpha can just end her life any second. Sasha is at Cal’s mercy, and she deserved this. All of this. She should have listened to her thoughts yesterday: once a Slave, always a Slave.

         Glancing up at Ansel, she smiled at him.Weakly. Giving him a look that says “I told you we can never be together.” She watched as Ansel’s fingers curled at his side, his expression stoic and deadly—the face of a warrior and killer.

         She whipped her head behind her, where Cal was laughing devilishly, relishing the tightness of her flesh and the blood that splayed her skin. 

         Warm and wet drew Sasha back to the present. She is crying, and she has no right to do that. In order to cover up the silent weep she just released, she faked a moan, as if she was enjoying Cal’s monstrosity. “Ahh…” another moan escaped her lips. Then another. She gripped the bloody bed sheets and tried to reach for her clothes. 

But Cal was faster, he groped her chest and brought her head lower, his palm was the size of her face. She feigned another moan, and begged the Alpha to go faster.

“See, Ansel?” the Alpha smirked, the devil in a wolf’s clothing. “Sasha will always bend before me. She is mine.”

Giro suddenly appeared beside him, gripping his wrist before he could make a step forward. Cal returned his attention to doing Sasha as Ansel heard the locking of the door.

“Control yourself. You should never let your heart control you.” Sasha heard that, even if Giro’s voice was just above a whisper. Cal seized her hair and turned her to face him. She opened for him, Sasha did not know why she did that.

‘Do you know that an Alpha can control his Slaves?’ Cal grinned, his hands on either side of her head. Sasha’s throat bobbed and realized why there are times like this where she cannot move or run. It’s as if she’s a puppet and Cal’s mind is the strings, pulling her and commanding her to do things against her will.

“Moan, Sasha.” She bit her lip, but Cal’s fingers parted them and she ended up moaning with the Alpha’s powerful thrusts.

“Ansel…” she breathed. And with just a blink, it earned her another set of slaps from Cal. The Alpha wrapped his hands around her neck and hoisted her a bit. Sasha’s neck almost crushed when Cal forced her to gaze at Ansel, who was still guarding the door along with Giro.

“Is Ansel rougher than me or—” Cal unsheathed his claw and it wounded Sasha’s stomach. The Slave shouted in pain rather than ecstacy. 

Everyone knew Cal is sadistic, but this is too much.

“Ansel.” She answered with a maleficent grin blooming across her face. This time, Cal threw her to the floor and positioned her body like a wheelbarrow, aligning his groin and entering Sasha’s frail body. “Let’s see, then.”

Cal approached Ansel with Sasha walking with her grazed palm. “Did my performance delight you, Beta Ansel?”

“Of course, Alpha Cal. There is none much evil than the man you are.”

Sasha did not take time to shout when Cal lunged for Ansel’s bare throat. Giro barreled his arms between the two but Cal was stronger, fiercer. “You should be thankful your head is still atop your body, Ansel.”

Ansel’s dark laughter rented the air. “Am I? Perhaps it's you who’s lucky, Alpha.” The way he mockingly uttered Cal’s title sent his smile more lethal. “You are fortunate enough that I did not do what my father did to your late cousin.”

A punch from the wolf demon sent Ansel tumbling to the ground. “Stay away from here, Giro.”

Cal snatched Ansel’s hair and threw him to the bed, where the scent of Sasha’s blood flooded his senses. Giro stood beside the bed frame. “That’s enough, Alpha.”

“Oh no, it isn’t.” Ansel just realized this second that Cal was not going to attack him.

“Ahhh!” It was all Sasha can do as the Alpha of the Fire Moon Pack’s claws tore her thigh’s skin, exposing the foul flesh within.

Ansel wasted no more time. But Giro pinned him to the carpeted floor the moment he climbed down from the four-poster bed. “Sasha!!!”

The room quaked with his thundering voice. Even Cal paused and arched his head at his tear-drenched face. “Pity. I must admit I envy your ‘love’.” His fingers combed her rumpled hair, the other circling the firm shape of her bosom. “But I am not that wicked to take away Sasha from you, too. Decapitating your father and burning his body is enough torture, I guess…” Cal grinned at that, the smile of a heartless idiot. “Sasha and I are just playing. Aren’t we, love?”

Slowly, Ansel’s hand curled into a fist, his knuckles turning white. “Tsk! Tsk! Fighting the father of your pack is disrespectful, son. I’m sure our ancestors won’t be happy with that,” he waved a hand to the bedroom where numerous Alphas have found their solace in this place. “Especially when we are in the place where we spend most of our time.” A bedroom is also an extension of an Alpha’s office. Not just an office, it houses several priceless relics, paintings. Even a pair of fangs of some Alphas that came before Cal are displayed in a glass box near the bright head-to-toe window where the moon can directly shone its light.

“You are no Alpha.” Sasha’s voice may not be that loud, but it was enough for Cal to raised his brows. “Oh?”

“Yes! The likes of you should be bathing in hellfire—no.” Sasha didn’t so much as blink as she continued, “Satan might be threatened by your presence. With the level of wickedness in your heart, you can sit on the blazing hell’s throne and it can look like as if Satan was an amateur.” She burst into a candid laughter with that. Ansel and Giro may have chuckled so soft that only the wind could hear but a smile still split the anxiousness from their face.

Cal stepped on Sasha’s wounded hands and Giro cursed as he, too, heard the crushing of bones. She was just a woman, a Slave. Yet she’s being treated as a toy and animal remorselessly by Cal. Giro, too, curled his fingers beside him and slowly lifted his foot from Ansel’s back—enough to not hurt him but still incapacitate him.

“Break me, Cal.” Sasha stuck out her tongue and gave Cal a middle finger. “That’s the only way you can prove your dominant, but I would like to remind you that you have never been an Alpha—”

He reached for the back of her neck and shoved it to the length of his.

Sasha pulled out a minute after, Cal’s juice still dripping from her lips. Giro gave her a tight nod. 

“You will never be an Alpha, Cal.” Cal punched her to the throat before he realized what Sasha has done, a huge gardening shears she found under the bed within her fingers.

Sasha still smiled with amicable sweetness as Cal stared at the half of his organ, soaked in vibrant crimson blood in her palm.