Claimed by the Alpha and the Vampire Prince: Masquerading as a Man-Chapter 183: Inside Hell

Clark’s POV:

The air was thick now, heavy with the smell of wolves and sweat and something darker, like blood and fear soaked into the walls. I could hear faint music from inside the club, a low, thrumming beat that felt like a predator’s heartbeat. Underneath it, muffled screams, whimpers, laughter. Human laughter? No. It was too broken. Too hollow.

The doors opened wider, and for a moment I caught a glimpse inside.

Chained humans. Some on their knees, others bound against walls. Leashes in every color, glowing faintly as if coded with meaning. Wolves lounged in luxury around them, drinking, laughing, commanding. And the humans... they obeyed. Some with blank eyes. Others trembling, weeping silently.

The air reeked of sex, power, and despair.

My stomach turned so violently I nearly doubled over. This wasn’t a club. This was hell disguised in velvet and shadows. A nightmare where humans weren’t people—they were toys.

And now... I was next.

I could feel Reed’s gaze burning into me, savoring every drop of my panic. His wolf eyes glinted, gold swirling like liquid fire, and his smile stretched wider.

The guards moved closer, one already holding out a leash. Purple. Smooth leather, silver clasp. Waiting to be clipped around my throat.

I shook my head, but my body wouldn’t move. My feet were frozen to the ground, my breath shallow and rapid.

This was it. This was the moment I realized—The university wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to me.

This place was.

And Reed had led me straight into it.

********

The leash.

It dangled in the guard’s hand like a snake, gleaming in the dim light, waiting for me. My pulse thundered in my ears, so loud I thought it would give me away. I wanted to bolt, to run back to the car—even if Reed’s driving was suicidal, it was a safer death than this. But my feet stayed rooted, cemented by the weight of Reed’s gaze.

"You heard me," Reed said, voice smooth but sharp as a blade. "Put it on."

The guard stepped closer, and I flinched back instinctively, hands rising like I could shield myself. But what good were hands against wolves twice my size? Against him?

"I—I’m not a—" My voice cracked, useless, pathetic.

Reed tilted his head, eyes glowing faintly gold. The smirk faded into something colder. "You are if I say you are."

The words sliced through me. Simple. Final. A wolf’s decree.

The guard didn’t hesitate. In one swift motion, his thick hand snapped the leash around my throat. I gasped at the sudden weight, the tightness against my skin. Not choking, not yet, but enough to remind me—this wasn’t jewelry. This was control.

The leather was cold. Heavy.

Purple.

Reed’s choice.

So yeah, let me just put it out there: that was the moment I realized hell wasn’t underground. Nope. Hell was right here, standing in front of a door, with a purple leash being snapped onto a collar like it was just another Friday night.

And me? I was the mutt being led in.

The guard’s hand was heavy when he looped the thing around my neck. It wasn’t even just a collar—it was this thick, cold band that locked into place with a click I swear echoed through my skull. My breath hitched. I reached up, instinctively trying to push it away, but Reed’s low growl rumbled like thunder. That one warning was enough. My hands dropped like dead weight to my sides.

Gods. I’d been collared. Collared. And Reed—oh, he was enjoying this. He tugged the leash once, sharp, testing. I stumbled forward, nearly choking myself because I was too slow. His smirk said it all: You’re mine now.

Laughter drifted from inside the club—wolves noticing, wolves watching.

Reed didn’t laugh. He didn’t need to. He stepped closer, his fingers brushing the leather at my throat. His touch was light, but it might as well have been fire.

"Perfect," he murmured, as though he’d just arranged the last piece of a puzzle.

My stomach churned violently.

The doors opened wider, and then—there was no turning back.

The guards stepped aside, bowing low. Reed tugged the leash gently, but it was enough. I stumbled forward, forced to move with him.

And then I was inside.

The world changed.

Inside the building, everything was... wrong. The lights weren’t club lights, not really. Too dim, too red, like blood had been smeared across the bulbs. The bass from the music wasn’t something you could dance to. It thudded heavy, primal, more like a heartbeat than any song I’d ever heard. And the smell—gods, the smell. Sweat, musk, alcohol, iron. And under it all, fear. The sour stink of it clinging to humans who walked past, heads bowed, eyes glazed.

And did I say walked? Wrong again.

They shuffled.

Because every single one of them had a leash.

The air was thick, suffocating, drenched in sweat, lust, and despair. Dim red lights pulsed with the beat of slow, heavy music. My eyes struggled to adjust, but the shadows revealed more than I wanted to see.

Humans. Everywhere.

Some were chained together, crawling on all fours. Some were dragged upright like mannequins. Some were... god, I can still see it... kneeling at the feet of wolves or vamps, their eyes hollow, their bodies trembling like puppets on broken strings.

Others knelt on velvet carpets, heads bowed, their necks heavy with collars. While some stood pressed against the walls, leashes tethered to hooks like animals in a stable. A few were dragged by wolves through the crowd, stumbling, stripped bare of dignity.

I couldn’t breathe. My chest was tight, my throat aching where the collar bit in. My feet kept moving only because Reed tugged the leash and my body knew better than to resist. Every step felt heavier, like I was walking deeper into a grave.

And the music wasn’t the only sound. Oh no. There were cries—sharp, muffled, sometimes strangled. Laughter that wasn’t happy but cruel, jeering. Growls from wolves, sniffs from humans. The shuffle of chains dragging across the floor.