Sold To The Alphas I Hate novel Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Blood Test

Roman’s POV

I looked down at her.

She was still breathing—barely. Blood clung to her lips, smeared across her face, and soaked into every inch of her torn, battered body. She looked more like a corpse than someone still clinging to life.

I knelt beside her and slid my arms beneath her fragile frame.

"If not for Kael’s sake... pureblood or not... you would’ve died today," I muttered, unsure if she was even conscious enough to hear me. "I don’t want him to lose Sophia after everything he’s already lost—because of you."

I paused, jaw tightening.

"Lucian’s right. You don’t deserve to live. But..."

I lifted her into my arms. She felt weightless—far too light for someone who had once carried so much ruin in her name. But then, I pushed aside the thought, not wanting to feel a tinge of sympathy or pity towards her. She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve anything.

Cradling her limp form, I made my way back toward the vehicles. We had arrived in two cars. One would be left behind for Lucian and Jason. The other was ours.

Rafe sat behind the wheel, Kael in the passenger seat, silent as ever.

Rafe glanced at me as I approached. "Trash doesn’t belong in luxury seats," he said coolly. "I’m not letting her stain my car."

With the push of a button, the trunk popped open.

I didn’t say a word. Without hesitation, I placed her inside, closed the trunk with a firm hand, and climbed into the back passenger seat.

We headed to our usual hospital—one owned by Kael’s family, just one of many businesses under his name.

By the time we arrived, Liam, the resident doctor, was already waiting. He’d been informed about the emergency ahead of time. The old beta had seen more winters than most; what remained of his hair was completely grey, the rest long gone.

Despite there being plenty of younger, more modern doctors, Liam was always the one we called. He was dependable, discreet, and an expert in everything concerning werewolves.

"What happened?" Liam approached us with a furrowed brow, his voice edged with mild irritation. "What did Lucian and Jason do now?"

It wasn’t an unfair question—those two were usually the reason he got summoned. Trouble followed them like a shadow. Or maybe it was the other way around.

"It’s not about them this time," I said.

Just then, the hospital staff rolled her in on a stretcher. I wasn’t even sure if she was still alive after spending nearly half an hour crammed in the trunk. That bastard Rafe had driven like a lunatic, and I could only imagine how much her broken body had been tossed around.

"Who is she?" Liam asked, not having seen her face yet. "The pureblood you mentioned in the message?"

I gave a short nod, watching as Kael turned and walked away without a word. I didn’t try to stop him—I already knew he was heading to see Sophia.

"Just treat her. You’ll understand soon enough," I told Liam.

As the stretcher drew closer, her face came into full view. The reaction was instant.

Liam stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening in disbelief.

Before he could say anything, I cut him off. "We need to run a test. Confirm whether she’s truly a pureblood. Hurry."

Just then, Kael returned. I handed him the report. He took it, expression unreadable, conflicted, perhaps, unsure whether this revelation was a blessing or a curse.

"For Sophia’s sake," I reminded him quietly.

He said nothing, simply returned the report to me.

Soon after, Lucian and Jason arrived. The blood splattered on their clothes was answer enough—those she-wolf sellers had been dealt with. Brutally.

"Even after we broke a few bones, pulled some teeth and nails," Lucian said with a twisted grin, "those bastards wouldn’t stop insisting she’s a pureblood."

I held up the report. "They weren’t lying. She is indeed a pureblood."

Lucian snatched the paper from my hand, glancing at it before crumpling it into his fist. A dark laugh escaped his throat, low and cruel.

"That’s even better," he muttered. "Now I can take my time breaking her. Make her beg me for death." He looked at Jason, "What do you say?"

"Certainly," he replied, equally wicked as Lucian.

Jason was the kind to not talk much like Lucian, but when it came to actions, he was downright brutal.

Lucian looked at me with a wicked smirk, "It’s good you stopped me back there. That would have been an easy death for her and it wouldn’t be fun."

The way he said it—calm, cold, and utterly vicious—would’ve made any sane person flinch. And I didn’t doubt his intentions even for a moment.

As long as she served her purpose, he could do whatever he pleased with her.