Rejected by Her Mate Claimed by Four Alphas novel Chapter 75

CHAPTER 67-1

Clara’s POV

I turned to leave, but his next words froze me in place.

“Oh, and Xander? Get the healer down here immediately. Have him suture the tongue back on. I need this bastard to be able to speak clearly for tomorrow’s call.”

My blood went cold.

What?

I pressed myself closer to the small window, certain I had misheard. But Darius continued speaking in that same calm, casual tone that made my skin crawl.

“Make sure the healing is accelerated. Use whatever drugs necessary. I don’t care if he’s in pain, but he needs to be coherent enough to convince Jaden that Clara is dead.”

Xander nodded without hesitation. “Should I prepare the surgical room upstairs?”

“No. Do it here. I want him conscious for most of it.”

The casual cruelty of those words hit me like a physical blow. Darius had cut out the spy’s tongue knowing he could have it reattached. This wasn’t just torture. This was calculated psychological warfare.

Darius wiped his hands clean one final time and headed toward the door. “Handle the rest, Xander. I have other matters to attend to.”

“Yes, Alpha,” Xander replied.

“And Xander? Make sure he understands the consequences if he fails tomorrow.”

With that, Darius left the basement, leaving Xander in charge of the horrific repair job that was about to take place.

I watched in horrified fascination as Xander began organizing the next phase of this nightmare.

Within minutes, the healer arrived with a medical bag and a portable surgical kit. He looked at the scene carefully, as if this was just another day at the office.

“How long has he been unconscious?” The healer asked, pulling on surgical gloves.

“About ten minutes,” Xander replied, taking charge now that Darius had left. “Alpha wants it reattached. Can you do it?”

“Yes, but it won’t be pleasant for him. The nerve damage will be significant.”

“The Alpha said he wants him to remember this. So make sure he feels it.”

The healer nodded and began setting up his equipment. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. They were going to sew a tongue back on in a basement, with basic surgical tools, while the patient was barely

CHAPTER O

eenscious.

Should I wake him?” Xander asked, studying the unconscious spy.

“Let him wake up naturally: Alpha’s orders were clear. He needs to feel everything.”

I felt sick. This level of cruelty was beyond anything I had imagined. Back in Shadowcrest, even during the worst punishments, there was some limit to the brutality. But Darius had no limits. He was willing to do whatever it took to achieve his goals, and Xander was carrying out those orders without question.

The healer located the severed tongue on the floor and cleaned it with antiseptic. The sight of it, pale and lifeless, made my stomach turn. But I couldn’t look away. Something about this whole situation held me

captive.

“The tissue is still viable,” The healer said, examining the tongue under a small surgical light. “But the reattachment will be rough. His speech will be affected permanently.”

“As long as he can make the phone call tomorrow, that’s all that matters,” Xander said, echoing what Darius would have wanted.

The spy began to stir, moaning through the blood in his mouth. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused and filled with pain. When he saw The healer approaching with the severed tongue, he tried to scream, but only managed wet, choking sounds.

“Hold him still,” The healer instructed Xander.

Xander grabbed the spy’s head, holding it in place while The healer began the procedure. The spy’s eyes were wide with terror, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but endure what was happening to him.

I watched The healer work with steady precision. He aligned the severed tongue with the remaining tissue in the spy’s mouth, then began the delicate process of reconnecting blood vessels and nerves. The spy’s body convulsed with pain, but Xander held him firmly in place.

“This would be much easier with proper anesthesia,” The healer commented.

“Use local only,” Xander ordered, following Darius’s instructions to the letter. “Alpha wants him aware of what’s happening.”

The healer injected several shots of local anesthetic around the wound site. The spy’s thrashing lessened slightly, but his eyes remained wild with panic and pain.

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CHAPTERS

CHAPTER 67-2

The suturing process was meticulous and brutal. I could see every stitch as The healer worked to reattach the severed organ. Blood continued to flow, and the spy kept trying to swallow, gagging on his own blood.

Halfway through the procedure, the spy passed out again from the pain and blood loss. The healer continued working, his movements quick and efficient.

“How long until he can speak?” Xander asked, watching the procedure with the same detached professionalism as The healer.

“Twenty–four hours minimum for basic speech. Forty–eight for anything coherent. But like I said, it will

never be the same.”

“Twenty–four hours it is. The Alpha needs him ready by then.”

I couldn’t wrap my head around any of this. The level of planning, the cold calculation, the willingness to inflict such specific torture knowing it could be reversed. This wasn’t the act of an angry Alpha. This was the work of someone who had done this before, many times. And Xander was executing these orders like he’d witnessed this type of brutality countless times before.

How many people had Darius tortured in this basement? How many had Xander helped him break and rebuild to serve their purposes?

The spy woke up again as The healer was finishing the final stitches. The man’s eyes were unfocused, shock setting in from the trauma and blood loss. He tried to move his tongue, testing the reattachment, and whimpered at the sharp pain.

“Give him antibiotics and painkillers,” Xander instructed, clearly following a predetermined protocol. “But nothing that will affect his ability to think clearly.”

“I’ll need to monitor him closely,” The healer said, packing up his equipment. “Infection is a major risk with this type of injury.”

“Do whatever you need to do. Just make sure he’s ready to make that call.”

r

As The healer finished cleaning up, Xander turned his attention back to the spy. “I’ll double the guards on this room. Alpha doesn’t want any interruptions until tomorrow.”

I realized I needed to leave before they discovered me. But for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to move. I was transfixed by what I had witnessed, by the casual efficiency with which Darius had orchestrated this entire brutal performance.

The spy was now semi–conscious, his mouth heavily bandaged, making small whimpering sounds. Every few minutes, he would try to test his reattached tongue, then cry out in pain.

“Can he understand me?” Xander asked the healer.

“Yes, but he shouldn’t try to speak for several hours.”

Xander Icaned down close to the spy’s face, his voice taking on the same authoritative tone Darius had used earlier. “Listen carefully. Tomorrow, you’re going to call Alpha Jaden. You’re going to tell him that Clara is dead and make it believable. Do you understand?”

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