Alpha’s Regret After Putting Me In Jail novel Chapter 103

Chapter 103: No survivors

* Paints

Chapter 103: No survivors

Chapter 103: No survivors

(Celeste’s POV)

Consciousness returned in agonizing waves, each one worse than the last. Every inch of my body screamed in pain, and it took me several moments to even remember where I was.

I opened my eyes slowly, blinking against the dim light. The cold, rough stone floor pressed hard against my cheek, and my lips cracked from dryness as I exhaled.

Moon–blessed crystals glowed faintly in the corners of the den, casting long, eerie shadows on

the walls. Those same walls held the stains of history–silver burns, claw marks, splatters of

dried blood.

I tried to shift even slightly, but the pain in my back erupted like fire, making me gasp audibly.

My body instinctively curled forward, but that only pulled against the raw, open burns

crisscrossing my skin. Tears sprang to my eyes unbidden, and I hurriedly pressed my fists into

the floor to steady myself.

Every movement brought sharp reminders of what Marcus had done. The silver chains still swayed slightly from the ceiling where he’d hung them during his “demonstration.”

“The artistry of each chain is unique, don’t you think, my little mate?” His mocking voice

echoed in my memory. “Some wolves never make it past the first lash. But you–you’ve always

been so… resilient. A peculiar trait for someone so fragile–looking.”

Fragile. The word twisted something deep inside me now as I stared at my trembling fingers. My wolf keened softly in the recesses of my mind. She wanted to retreat, to disappear from

this place, but there was no escape, and we both knew it.

All at once, the memories of his sadistic display crashed over me. How he’d dragged out the process, letting the anticipation of the next strike hurt just as much as the physical blows

themselves.

“You must learn submission, dear Celeste,” he had said, tightening the silver chains around his hands as if they were toys. “It’ll make you stronger. Or perhaps weaker. We’ll find out, won’t

we?”

And then the sound–the sound of the silver tearing through fabric, flesh, and spirit. Over and

over.

1/5

Chapter 103: No survivors

“Eager, aren’t we?” he’d cooed mockingly when I cried out, my wolf unable to suppress her instinctive howl of pain. “But no screams, no begging? Such a pity–I expected more of a performance.”

+3 Point:

Now, hours later–or perhaps longer–his promise lingered in my mind: “We’ll continue after I rest, little mate.”

The thought made cold dread settle in my stomach. My wolf shivered, recoiling from the memory of his unfaltering grin, the way he so calmly explained the utility of each instrument, as if he were discussing a piece of art instead of the tools of torture.

Gritting my teeth, I tried again to push myself upright. My burned back screamed in protest, and my arms shook under the strain, but I forced them to hold.

Silver burns decorated my shoulders and extended in jagged patterns down my sides. The dried blood clung to my clothes, making every motion unbearable.

But I had to stand. Lying here was not an option.

Eleanor’s face appeared in my mind. Her soft voice would scold me for showing weakness, but the memory of her unconditional love gave me strength.

Before Marcus had begun, he’d sneered and ordered me to remove my jacket. “Can’t have any inconvenient questions from your precious grandmother,” he’d said with mock pity.

That calculated level of cruelty enraged me now, stoking the embers of defiance deep in my chest. No flicker of pain, however intense, could be worse than letting him win.

I dragged myself to a sitting position, biting the inside of my cheek to stifle any sound. Each breath was shallow, pained, and slow as I shifted my weight. The bitterness of metal, sweat, and blood filled the air, and I could feel the stickiness of crimson still drying on my skin.

Just as I managed to lean back against one of the smoother walls, I heard it: footsteps

echoing faintly outside the thick, silver–reinforced door.

The chains above creaked faintly in the sudden shift of atmosphere. My wolf stiffened as a

new scent mingled with the oppressive energy of the den.

The heavy locks on the door clicked one by one. I stared unblinking as the hulking form of

Marcus’s personal beta, Kane, filled the open entrance.

He stepped inside hesitantly, his solid build dwarfing most wolves I’d encountered. Dark brown eyes flickered toward me, took in my condition, and then darted to the floor.

Kane’s wolf was disciplined, always exuding composure, but now he radiated something

2/5

48 Paints

Chapter 103: No survivors

unfamiliar–unease. His typical confidence faltered, which spoke volumes about the state I

was in.

He avoided my gaze as though afraid of what he might see. It occurred to me then that he

knew. Perhaps not every detail, but enough to piece together what his Alpha had done.

“His Royal Highness ordered me to escort you back,” Kane said gruffly, his tone clipped and

formal.

He stayed several steps back, as if keeping distance would shield him from the shame.

thickening the air between us.

“Marcus is resting,” he continued carefully, the words seeming to cost him more than they

should. “You’re to clean yourself up… and prepare for further audience when summoned.”

I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that bubbled up unbidden. It came out raspy and unsteady,

scraping my sore throat.

“Further audience,” I echoed hoarsely. My voice sounded foreign even to my own ears.

Kane kept his gaze on the floor, adjusting the corner of his uniform jacket unnecessarily. The

tension in his stance was unmistakable–he didn’t want to be here.

The stark contrast between his disciplined appearance and the wary energy radiating from his

wolf only fueled my curiosity.

I shifted slightly, flinching as the burns seared again. His eyes darted up at the sound, then

immediately dropped.

Something like guilt flashed across Kane’s face–subtle, but impossible to miss. I latched onto

1. it.

Before he could utter another word, I straightened as much as my body would allow and forced steel into my tone. “Before we leave, answer me something.”

Kane stiffened at the command in my voice. His wolf bristled slightly, but he remained silent,

waiting.

“Tell me,” I said slowly, each word deliberate, “including me, how many has he brought to this

den?”

The question struck a nerve–his reaction gave him away long before his mouth opened. His posture shifted uncomfortably, and his wolf’s aura flickered with unease.

“You… don’t need to-” he began, but I cut him off sharply.

3/5

*8 Point:

Chapter 103: No survivors

“Answer. Me.”

The rawness in my voice didn’t waver. Exhausted as I was, I poured every ounce of what strength remained into holding his gaze.

Kane’s jaw tightened, but after a long moment, he relented under the weight of

my stare.

“You’re the fifteenth, Miss Winters,” he finally admitted, though the reluctance in his tone