Betrayed by an alpha claimed by a lycan king

Chapter 131 Chapter 131 SAGE

It was already dark when Kieran and I arrived at the place, a creepy building surrounded by shadows. The air felt heavy as I stepped out of the car, and even though it was humid, a cold shiver ran down my spine. My uneasiness grew when I noticed Kieran's usual playful grin had turned into something serious and calculating.

The entrance was just a small, rusty door, almost hidden in the grimy, graffiti-covered walls. Kieran knocked twice, and a tiny panel in the door slid open, revealing a pair of cold, suspicious eyes. They spoke briefly in low voices before the door creaked open, and an awful smell hit me.

Rotting garbage. Sweat. Something metallic and sour that made my stomach twist.

I wanted to ask where we were, but the tense look on Kieran's face kept me quiet. We started down a crumbling set of stairs, and the air grew even heavier. Faint voices and muffled sobs echoed through the dim hallway, making my skin crawl with fear.

We entered a huge underground room that felt like it went on forever. Flickering yellow lights barely lit the space, casting strange shadows on the cracked concrete walls. On one side of the room, rusted cages held people crammed together. They looked terrified, their faces pale, their eyes empty. Chains rattled as they moved slightly, the sound scraping at my nerves.

The smell here was unbearable-a mix of filth, sweat, and despair. The floor was filthy, covered in grime and dirt, with smears of dried blood on the walls that hinted at past struggles.

Kieran barely spared me a glance as he spoke to a large, intimidating man covered in tattoos. His voice was flat and devoid of any emotion, the tone of someone used to issuing commands and having them followed. "She's a high commodity," he said, his words sharp and deliberate. "Handle her with care. No bruises, no scratches, nothing. If anything happens to her, it'll be your head."

The tattooed man gave a firm nod, his expression serious as he stepped closer. His rough hand clamped around my arm, the grip firm but not painful. Yet.

"Wait!" I blurted, panic bubbling to the surface as I tried to yank my arm free. "Where are they taking me?"

The man ignored me, but Kieran didn't. He turned back, his lips curling into that infuriatingly smug smirk that I had come to despise. "To your room, little lady," he said, his tone almost mocking. "I can't very well toss you in with the rest of the filthy slaves, can I? You're one of my most prized possessions. I need to make sure you're in pristine condition."

I froze, his words hitting me like a slap. Prized possession? A bitter taste filled my mouth, but I forced myself to meet his gaze, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. "I'm not some object you can own, Kieran."

His smirk only deepened, his eyes gleaming with something that made my skin crawl. "Oh, Sage," he said, his tone dripping with condescension, "you knew exactly what you were getting into when you made that deal with me. Don't act so surprised- now."

And there it was, the reminder of the pact I had made with him. The blood pact. The one I'd entered into with eyes wide open, knowing the risks but thinking I could handle them. I had told myself it was a necessary gamble, a means to an end. But standing here now, with his words cutting into me like a blade, I couldn't stop the flicker of doubt from creeping in.

Before I could respond, the tattooed man gave a sharp tug on my arm, pulling me forward. "Let's go," he grunted, his voice deep and gravelly.

I dug my heels into the ground, twisting to face Kieran one last time. "You don't have to do this," I said, my voice steadier

than I felt.

Go

Kieran raised a brow, feigning surprise. "Do what? Keep my end of the deal? Oh, but I do, Sage. This is just business."

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I wanted to scream at him, to claw at the smug look on his face, but I knew it would do no good. Kieran wasn't the type to be swayed by anger or desperation. He thrived on control, and he had it now-over me.

The tattooed man yanked me forward again, this time with enough force to make me stumble. "Move," he growled.

I shot Kieran one last glare, but he only waved me off, his smirk never faltering. "Enjoy your stay, little lady," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "You've earned it."

As I was dragged away, the reality of my situation sank in. I had made a deal with the devil, and now I was paying the price.I shot one last glare at Kieran, but he had already turned away, his back disappearing into the shadows like a ghost.

The tattooed man led me down a dimly lit hallway, his heavy boots echoing against the cracked concrete floor with each step. The air smelled faintly of mildew, but it was a welcome reprieve from the overwhelming stench of the main chamber. My heart was pounding in my chest as I tried to mentally prepare myself for whatever awaited me.

We stopped in front of a rusted metal door. The man pulled out a jangling set of keys, his movements deliberate and unhurried as if to remind me that there was no escape. With a sharp click, the lock disengaged, and the door creaked revealing the room beyond. I hesitated as he motioned for me to step inside. "Go on," he grunted, his tone leaving no room for

argument.

open,

Lwalked in slowly, my eyes scanning the space. To my surprise, it wasn't the cold, dingy cell I had expected. The room was small, barely big enough to fit its sparse furnishings, but it was clean and almost-almost-normal.

Against one wall stood a narrow bed with a plain white sheet and a thin, slightly worn blanket folded neatly at the foot. A single pillow sat at the head, its faded cover giving away its age. There was a small nightstand beside the bed, empty save for a dull lamp that cast a soft yellow glow over the room.

To the side, a tiny bathroom was visible through an open doorway. It had just the basics: a toilet, a sink, and a small shower/ with a flimsy curtain hanging from a metal rod. Everything was old and a little worn, but compared to what I'd seen earlier, it felt almost luxurious. I turned back toward the man, my confusion evident. "Why am I here?" I asked cautiously.

He shrugged, clearly uninterested in offering explanations. "Boss's orders. Said you're special. Got to keep you in good shape for the buyers."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I had to fight to keep my expression neutral. "Buyers," I repeated, my voice hollow.

"Yeah." He stepped back, the door creaking again as he prepared to close it. "Stay put and don't try anything stupid. It won't end well for you."

Before I could say another word, the door slammed shut, the sound reverberating through the small space. I heard the click of the lock sliding back into place, sealing me in.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, my legs feeling like jelly. The room might have been decent by comparison, but it was still a prison, A cage. And I was nothing more than merchandise waiting to be sold.

My gaze drifted to the small window high up on the far wall. It was covered with thick iron bars, and beyond it, I could see only darkness. Any hope of escape felt as distant as the stars hidden behind that endless night.

UB:57 Tue, Jan 21

Wrapping my arms around myself, I tried to steady my breathing I had made a deal with Kieran, knowing it would lead me into dangereus territory. But this, this was far worse than I had anticipated.

It hadn't been long since the tattooed man left the room when a soft knock echoed from the metal door. I froze, unsure if ! should respond. Before I could decide, the door creaked open, and a middle-aged woman stepped inside.

She was unlike anyone I'd encountered in this forsaken place. Her warm, kind demeanor seemed to radiate from her as she carefully balanced a basin of water in her hands. Her gentle smile softened the harsh lines of her weathered face, and her movements were deliberate, as if she was trying not to disturb the fragile silence of the room.

I couldn't help but wonder how someone like her ended up in this dark, chaotic world. She seemed so out of place, her warmth a stark contrast to the cold cruelty that permeated everything here.

"How are you, dear?" She asked softly, her voice soothing and light, like a breeze on a stifling day. "I'm sorry to interrupt. I just came to prepare you a bath."

Her words caught me off guard. "I'm fine," I replied, the hesitation in my voice betraying my uncertainty. "There's no need for you to do that."

She gave a small, understanding laugh as she set the basin down on the small table near the bed. "Oh, no," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "I insist. Please, let me help. It's the least I can do."

I studied her for a moment, trying to read between the lines. She seemed genuine, her kindness unforced, but in a place like this, that felt impossible. "I don't feel like taking a bath. So, please leave."

Her eyes softened, and she looked at me, "I'm afraid I can't do that," she said with a sweet smile as she slowly approached

1. me.

Without waiting for another objection, she busied herself, preparing the basin and pulling out a small, worn cloth from her apron. She moved with practiced ease, her hands steady despite the weight of whatever she'd endured to end up here.

"What did you do to get yourself into this kind of mess?" she asked gently, her voice curious but without a trace of judgment. She dipped the cloth into the basin of water, the quiet splash breaking the tense silence of the room, and wrung it out with practiced hands. I hesitated, the question hitting harder than I expected. It wasn't accusatory, but it forced me to confront the reality of my choices-the deal I'd made, the betrayal I'd ignored, and the desperation that had led me here. My throat tightened, but I forced myself to respond. "I made a deal with a hunter," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper, my throat tightening with the weight of my admission. My gaze dropped to the floor, unable to meet her gentle, probing eyes.

She paused for a moment, her expression softening, but she didn't press. Instead, she knelt beside me, her movements deliberate and calm, the damp cloth in her hand gliding over the dirt smudged on my arms. "You're out of luck, aren't you?" she said, her tone tinged with quiet resignation. "Of all the people you could make a deal with, you stumbled into Kieran's snare." Her words struck a chord, and I winced inwardly. "I didn't have a choice," I murmured. "I did what I had to do."

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She sighed, shaking her head as if she'd heard similar stories before. "Kieran doesn't offer deals; he offers traps dressed as salvation," she said with a hint of sadness. "But you already know that, don't you?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't. The truth of her words was undeniable, and I was too exhausted to defend myself against it.

She reached for my other arm, her touch as gentle as her voice. "You must be carrying a heavy burden, dear," she said, 08:57 Tue, Jan 21

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almost to herself. Then her hands stilled, her expression shifting from calm to curious. Slowly, she moved her hand toward

my

abdomen, her brows furrowing.

I stiffened, unsure of what she was doing. "What is it?" I asked nervously.

She didn't answer immediately. Instead, her warm hand pressed lightly against my stomach, her expression softening as a small, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips. She looked up at me, her eyes shimmering with something I couldn't quite place. "My dear..." she said softly, her voice trembling slightly. "You're not just carrying your own life anymore."

The room seemed to tilt, her words taking a moment to settle. I stared at her, uncomprehending. "What are you saying?" I managed, my voice cracking.

She sat back, her smile widening, now filled with certainty and quiet awe. "You're pregnant," she announced, her words warm but filled with weight. "And not just with any child. You're carrying a royal heir."

My heart stopped. The words hit me like a wave leaving me gasping for air. "That's not possible," I whispered, shaking my head. "How would you even know?"

The woman chuckled softly, her gaze almost amused as she tapped her temple. "I've been around long enough to know these things. It's in the way your aura shifts, the energy you carry. A child as special as yours leaves a trace even before they're born." I placed my hand over my stomach instinctively, my fingers trembling. "A royal heir..." I echoed, my mind spinning.

She nodded, her expression growing serious. "This isn't just any child, dear. This baby has power running through their veins-a legacy that can't be ignored. And whether you realize it or not, this child could change everything."

I swallowed hard, my hand still pressed against my abdomen. I didn't know what to think, what to feel. The weight of her revelation threatened to crush me, but somewhere beneath the shock and fear, there was a spark of something else-hope. "What do I do now?"