The Alpha’s Regret Claiming His Luna novel Chapter 151

Chapter 82 Traved to 5d.

Chapter 82: Trapped by Silver Chains–2

The journey was long and agonizing. Every bump in the road sent fresh waves of pain through my silver–burned wrists. The scent of my own fear and the lingering smell of werewolf blood – Trevor’s blood- filled the confined space beneath the canvas bag, making it difficult to breathe.

Hours passed, or perhaps days I lost all sense of time in my dark, painful prison. Finally, the vehicle stopped, and rough hands hauled me out, dumping me unceremoniously onto a cold, metal floor. The impact sent jolts of pain through my already battered body.

Heavy footsteps approached, followed by the sound of a zipper. The bag was yanked from my head, the sudden light blinding me momentarily, I blinked rapidly, my disheveled light brown hair falling across my face as I tried to orient myself.

“Alpha Connor told me to let you breathe,” the blond–haired beta said with a sneer, crouching down to my level. “He’s afraid you’ll suffocate, and he’ll have to explain things to the Pack Council”

His eyes raked over me with undisguised interest, a predatory gleam that made my skin crawl despite the gag preventing me from speaking.

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“You’re quite pretty, for a treacherous she–wolf,” he continued, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face. I flinched away, earning a dark chuckle. “It’s a shame I can’t touch you yet. Otherwise, I’d really…”

He left the sentence unfinished, but his implication was crystal clear, I trembled, consumed by a primal fear that resonated deep within my wolf.

After he left, locking the heavy metal door behind him, I finally had a chance to assess my surroundings. The confined space was bare except for a small, grimy porthole that revealed nothing but darkness and the occasional splash of water.

With growing horror, I realized from the rocking motion and the sound of waves against a hull that I was on a ship. Seasickness, amplified by my heightened werewolf senses, hit me almost immediately.

I barely managed to turn my head before vomiting, the gag making the experience even more horrific as I choked and gasped. Again and again, my stomach heaved until there was nothing left but bile, the stench of my own sickness filling the small, dark space.

There was no escape from the misery, the filth, and the gnawing fear of what awaited me at our destination Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the sweat and grime.

“Con,” I sobbed, my cries muffled by the gag and lost in the roar of the ocean and the creaking of the ship. “Do you really hate me this much? You caught me and threw me on a ship like this, surrounded by hostile wolves. Don’t you have any old feelings for me at all, your foster sister?”

chest.

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