The Alpha's Borrowed Luna (Abigail Hayes) novel Chapter 65

I stepped forward, peering through the glass, then immediately wish I hadn’t.

The room beyond was larger than the cells we’d passed, furnished like an interrogation room from a crime drama. A metal table stond in the center, its surface stained dark with what could only be blood. Various implements hung on the walls–tools I didn’t want to examine too closely,

center of the room stood Kaius.

My breath caught in my throat. He was dressed in black pants and nothing else, his muscled torso gleaming with sweat and spattered with blood. Before him knelt a man, bound to a chair bolted to the floor. The man’s face was unrecognizable, a mass of bruises and cuts.

Frost stood to one side, his expression Impassive as he watched Kas circle the prisoner. Behind them, a woman was chained to the wall, her face streaked with tears as she watched the man’s torture.

“Make

her watch, Kaius commanded, his voice muffled but still audele through the glass.

Frost nodded, adjusting the woman’s chains so she couldn’t turn away. She screamed something–a name, perhaps as Kaius lifted a wicked–looking blade from the table.

I couldn’t watch but couldn’t look away as Kaius demonstrated exactly why he was feared throughout the territory. The things he did to that man… my mind refused to process them fully, protecting me from memories that would haunt my dreams.

The woman strained against her chains, her screams turning to sobs. Suddenly, she lunged forward with unexpected strength, grabbing something from the table–another blade, smaller but no less deadly. Before anyone could stop her, she turned it toward her own throat.

Kaius moved with preternatural speed, catching her wrist before the blade could find its mark. “Tsk, tsk. I won’t let you die that easily,” he said, wrenching the weapon from her grasp.

ck from the

The casual cruelty in his voice, so at odds with the tenderness he’d shown me, made my stomach turn. I steppe window, bile rising in my throat. This was the man who had held me gently, who had shared his tragic past, who had kissed me with such passion. This man who could inflict such suffering without her lation.

“Get me out of here, Lysandra…” I managed, turning away as my stomach heaved.

“But you are yet to witness the real show,” she said, a hint of something like anticipation in her voice. Lysandra led me into that elevator first, taking us down to what seemed like the lowest floor. But she didn’t stop there, instead gulding me to a staircase that went even deeper,

The stairway seemed endless, winding deeper and deeper beneath the earth. The air grew thicker, mustier with each step, carrying strange scents I couldn’t quite identify. Lysandra moved with practiced ease, her steps confident in the dim light.

“How long do we have to walk?” I asked, my voice sounding thin in the narrow passage. The gun remained steady in my hand, though my palms had grown slick with nervous sweat.

“It usually doesn’t take this long if I am alone, but I have to match pace with you,” she replied, glancing back over her shoulder. “We

are close.”

The stairway finally leveled out into a wide corridor lined with doces–heavy metal doors with small, barred windows. A chill ran through me that had nothing to do with the cool underground air.

“What is this?” I whispered, unable to keep the unease from my voice

“Very curious, aren’t you? You will soon find out.” Lysandra approached one of the doors, extracting a key from her pocket. The lock clicked open with a sound that seemed to echo through the corridor

She pushed the door wide, gesturing for me to enter. 1 hesitated, the gun suddenly feeling heavier in my hand. Whatever was behind that door, I wasn’t sure I wanted to see it.

After a moment’s hesitation, I stepped forward, my breath catching in my throat as the room came into view.

It was a cell–a prison cell, but not like any I’d seen before. The space was small but clean, with a narrow bed against one wall and minimal furnishings. What made my heart stop was its occupant.

A young woman sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes widening with fear as the door opened. She was beaut with pale skin and dark hair that fell in waves past her shoulders. A silver collar encircled her neck, attached to a chain that ran to a ring in the wall.

“What is this?” I asked again, my voice barely audible.

Lysandra closed the door gently, the lock clicking back into place. “The Ravenhollow pack is one of the richest and well–known packs. We operate in many businesses; we are the best at everything, but none is more rewarding than the slave trade.”