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CHAPTER 82
RYAN’S POV
The tattooed man spat blood at the floor and sneered. “You can’t do a thing. You’re nothing but the son of the Alpha King. You’re not your father, so no matter what you do, I’ll never be scared of you.”
My lips curled into a slow, cold smirk. “We’ll see about that.”
The door burst open just then and Head Warrior Jim entered with his assistant Saul. Both men bowed slightly.” Where are the rest?” I asked without looking away from the captives.
“They’re guarding the surroundings,” Jim replied.
“Good.” My voice was like steel. “Take them to the dungeon. Since they don’t want the easy method of interrogation, let’s see how much they love the other method.”
“Yes, Alpha,” Jim and Saul said in unison. They dragged the men out as they struggled, their boots scraping against the floor. I followed, my expression unreadable.
The dungeon was a dark, sprawling space lined with iron and stone. It had been built for moments exactly like this, and tonight it smelled of blood and rage. The two men were forced into iron chairs bolted to the floor. Their hands were cuffed to the arms of the chairs, their blindfolds ripped off so they were forced to look at the Alpha they’d mocked.
“Switch it on,” I ordered flatly.
Alex flicked a switch on the wall, and the iron chairs began to steam as heat coursed through them. The two men jerked, their faces twisting as the metal beneath them grew hot, their muffled groans turning into shouts. I crouched down to their level, my eyes glowing faintly. “This is just the beginning. The worst is yet to come. So if you love yourselves, you’ll spill.”
They glared back at me, silent, their jaws set. “No one sent us,” the tattooed one repeated, even as his skin began to redden against the iron. “We did it ourselves.”
I gave a small nod to Jim and Saul, who were already holding whips. “Strike until I tell you to stop.”
The whips cracked through the air and landed hard across the men’s bodies. They screamed, twisting against their restraints, but the blows kept coming. I sat back in a chair opposite them, my eyes cold, watching without blinking as their clothes tore and blood began to streak their skin. They underestimated me. I let out a low, dark
chuckle.
Ten minutes passed before I finally raised a hand. “Stop.”
By then the men were weak, trembling, their bodies sagging against the restraints. Alex switched off the electricity connected to the chairs. I leaned forward, my voice quiet but sharp. “Who sent you?”
The tattooed man lifted his head, his voice hoarse but defiant. “No matter what you do, you won’t get anything from us. I’d rather die.”
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My smirk returned, colder this time. “Die? Don’t worry, dear. Death will be far away from you. Dying isn’t an option here.”
I turned to Jim. “Get the daggers.”
The men’s eyes widened. “What–what are you going to do to us?” the tattooed one asked, his voice cracking. I chuckled without warmth.
“You’ll see.”
Jim and Saul each grabbed a dagger and stood ready. My voice was low but deadly. “Now.”
The daggers stabbed down into each man’s right hand, breaking through bone. Blood gushed down onto the iron. My voice was cold as ice. “That’s for pushing the only woman I care about.”
The men screamed, their voices echoing off the dungeon walls. “Again,” I ordered. This time it was their left hands. They begged for mercy, but the blows landed anyway.
“Switch it on,” I said, and Alex flicked the electricity back on. The iron chairs hissed with heat again, burning their skin as their broken hands bled. Jim and Saul kept striking, their faces grim. The smell of scorched flesh filled the air.
One of the men slumped forward, close to passing out. I signaled Alex, who fetched a small vial and injected it into the man’s arm. Within moments the man jerked back awake, his eyes wide with terror. Death was not coming for him.
I chuckled low in my throat. “You’ll beg for death, but you won’t find it.”
The men whimpered now, their defiance cracking but still not breaking. “We have to protect our families,” one of them stammered, his voice barely a whisper.
My head tilted slightly. “So you have families,” I said, my chuckle turning darker. “Good to know.”
I nodded to Alex, who cut the power, then turned back to the men. “Flip them onto their backs and stretch them out,” I ordered, my voice low and hard. “Tie their wrists and ankles to the four poles so their bodies are lying in midair with nothing under them.”
Jim and Saul obeyed immediately, unfastening the men from the chairs and stringing them up in midair, their bodies suspended, their wrists and ankles tied to opposite poles. They begged, their voices cracking, but my eyes stayed hard.
A fire was lit, and irons were shoved into the flames until they glowed red–hot. The men’s eyes widened as they watched, panic creeping in. “What are you going to do?” one of them whispered.
I didn’t answer. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen. It was a text from my father.
‘Anna’s asking for you.‘
My jaw clenched. I turned to Jim and Saul. “Hit them with it until they confess. If they still refuse and just wish for death…” I looked at Alex, my eyes hard. “You know what to do.”
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“Yes, Alpha,” Alex said, his voice low.
I gave a single nod, turned on my heel, and walked out of the dungeon, the sound of groans and screams following me up the stairs. The smell of burning flesh clung to me like smoke.
This was just the beginning.
