Betrayed by Blood, Claimed by the Alpha-Chapter 169

Betrayed by Blood

The room was silent except for the slow, labored breathing of the man chained in the center of the room.

Cain had discovered the torture room Hugh kept for his own entertainment, and he wasn’t surprised. The bastard had hidden it well, tucked away beneath the main dungeon, a place where only his most depraved secrets festered. The moment Cain saw it, smelled the lingering scent of blood and suffering, he had decided.

Hugh’s son would suffer here.

Dean hung there, arms stretched and bound to the ceiling, his legs shackled apart. His body was covered in bruises, deep cuts, and burns, evidence of hours of torment. His face was barely recognizable—swollen, bloodied, streaked with dried tears and filth.

Cain stood in the shadows, watching. Cold. Detached. Seething.

He watched as the young man sobbed, his head lolling to the sides like he couldn’t control his neck. "P-please.." he sobbed.

Cain tilted his head slightly, his expression void of emotion. "Please?" Cain asked, his voice calm, mocking. He stepped forward, his boots clicking softly against the floor. "Now, you beg?"

Dean’s breath hitched. His body trembled violently in the chains, whether from fear or exhaustion, Cain didn’t care.

"Do you know why you’re here?" Cain asked.

Dean’s throat bobbed as he struggled to swallow. He made a weak attempt to shake his head, but even that movement seemed to cost him.

Cain clicked his tongue and took another step closer, until he was directly in front of him.

"Why you’ve been separated from the others?"

Dean let out a weak, shuddering breath.

Cain’s fingers twitched at his side. He was itching for an excuse...any excuse to make him bleed more.

"Why you’re being tortured?"

Dean swallowed thickly, his head barely lifting. His entire body was quaking. "I-I don’t—"

Cain huffed, "Of course you don’t. I bet it was just one of many for you." He paused and stepped back, glancing at the guard to his right.

"You know, Dean. I don’t know exactly how you were brought up, but I do know that there are limits to things. Things we shouldn’t ever cross, but you— you didn’t care one bit." He paused for a second.

"I know what kind of man your father is," Cain said, his voice even. "But you? You were meant to be better, weren’t you? The heir. The future Alpha of Blood Moon. That was what your father wanted, isn’t that right?"

Dean flinched at the mention of his father.

Cain’s lip curled. "What a disappointment you turned out to be."

Dean whimpered.

Cain’s nostrils flared as he exhaled. He stepped closer, gripping Dean’s chin between his fingers and forcing the battered man’s head up. "Look at me."

Dean tried to avert his gaze. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

Cain’s grip tightened painfully. "I said—look at me."

Dean gasped, forcing himself to meet Cain’s eyes.

"Now," Cain murmured. "Let’s talk about Avery."

Dean’s entire body went rigid.

Cain felt it. The way his breath hitched, the way his muscles instinctively tensed like a cornered animal.

Ah. There it was.

"You touched her, didn’t you? Your very own cousin, Dean." He shook his head. "When I’m through with you, you’ll wish you died instead."

Dean’s breath came in short gasps, his entire body convulsing with fear.

Cain exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders before turning toward the wooden table at the side of the room. Laid out before him was an array of tools.

He trailed his fingers over them, contemplating his next move. "Should I carve into you first?" he mused. "Or should I take the very thing you tried to use to defile her?"

Dean let out a strangled sob, his swollen eyes darting wildly, looking for escape where there was none.

Cain hummed as he picked up a serrated blade, testing its sharpness with his thumb.

"I think I’ll take something from you today, Dean." He turned, his face devoid of warmth. "Something you’ll never get back."

Dean’s entire body tensed, realization dawning.

"No—no, Alpha, please! I swear—I was just—"

Cain lunged forward, gripping Dean’s jaw harshly, forcing his head up. His nails dug into the bruised skin, making the younger man whimper.

"Just what?" Cain growled, his voice dangerously low. "Just following in your father’s footsteps?"

Dean’s lips trembled, his face twisting with raw terror.

"I should make it slow," Cain murmured, dragging the edge of the blade down Dean’s heaving chest. He pressed just hard enough to break the skin, watching with detached amusement as a thin line of blood welled up.

"I should make you feel everything."

Dean let out a piercing wail as the blade bit deeper, but Cain didn’t stop.

Not yet.

"Avery begged." Cain’s voice was calm. He tilted his head, watching Dean flinch at the words. "She screamed for help. And you...what did you do, Dean?"

Tears spilled down the broken man’s face.

"What did you do?" Cain pressed, twisting the blade just slightly.

Dean sobbed. "I— I—"

Cain’s grip tightened on the knife. "Oh right, you lied when you were discovered. You made her out to be the shameless one, didn’t you?" He paused.

"And now?" Cain’s voice was eerily soft as he pressed the blade against the waistband of Dean’s tattered pants. "Now you’ll learn what it feels like to be violated."

Cain slashed downward, ripping the fabric apart. The pitiful excuse for a man before him was fully exposed now, his cock tiny, wrinkled, and flat.

"No! NO—PLEASE!"

Cain ignored him. He gripped Dean’s length with one hand, forcing it forward as he lifted the blade in the other. "I should take my time," Cain continued, his tone almost thoughtful. "But I won’t."

Then, he slashed, ripping off the one thing Dean had going for him. His cock.

Cain took one last look at the pathetic, sobbing mess before him. Dean, reduced to nothing, writhing in agony.

He stepped back, satisfied. "Clean this mess up and toss this out." He ordered the guards, already wiping his hands clean, ready to leave.

Just as he turned to leave, he felt it. The lights in the room flicker. For a second, the entire place went dark. A strange, tense silence followed.

A scream tore through the dungeon.

Not just any scream.

Hugh’s.

It ripped through the air, raw and agonizing, a sound so wretched it made the guards freeze.

Cain stilled.

His blood ran cold for a fraction of a second before instinct took over. His heart pounded, and his feet moved before his mind could process it.

He bolted out of the room, Avery’s name the only thing in his mind.