Claimed By The Cruel Alpha King

CHAPTER 5

Elara

I didn’t know how I made it out of that room. My feet carried me faster than my thoughts, and even as I stumbled down the hallway, nearly tripping over my own legs, I didn’t stop.

My chest ached, my throat burned, and the bitter taste of bile still lingered in my mouth. But none of that compared to the shame crawling over my skin like insects under my flesh.

I crashed into a wall near the staircase, clutching the railing as I gasped for air. My body was shaking, violently, uncontrollably, like I was freezing from the inside out. My knees buckled, and I slid down, curling into myself, wrapping my arms tightly around my legs.

I should have never said those things. I should have never provoked him. I should have kept my f*****g mouth shut, like all the other times that I had. I just felt if i asserted myself and showed that i was strong and that he shouldn't pick on me, maybe the torment would stop. But I didn’t close the f*****g trap, like he had called it. I poured out the content of my heart, and now I was drowning in the aftermath of his wrath. I had gotten rough deep throated and I felt so f*****g disgusted with myself.

My vision blurred as tears slipped silently down my cheeks. There was no one in the hallway. No one to see me fall apart. That was probably for the best.

He would kill me next time. I was sure of it. If not with his hands, then with his hatred.

Footsteps echoed behind me and my body stiffened. I didn’t even have to look to know it was one of his men.

“Elara,” a soft masculine voice called out. It didn’t sound like a monster's. It didn’t sound like Alpha Ace. I raised my head up and found his close friend, Beta Lutha, watching me from a few feet away with a blank expression on his face, but his eyes? They flickered with something I couldn’t place. I wondered why he was here. Did Ace send him? Did he want to tell on me? Did he want to hit me or tell me more on how pathetic my life was?

“I didn’t do anything,” I croaked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“I know,” he replied, walking over slowly. “But you shouldn’t have said those things to him.”

Of course he heard those words I said. He was standing by the door to his room when I ran out, but I barely noticed him.

I laughed bitterly. “Then maybe someone should shove a muzzle over my mouth and put me in a cage. Wouldn’t that be easier?”

Lutha crouched beside me, his voice low. “You think he’ll let you live after what just happened?”

“I hope he doesn’t.”

His gaze hardened. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not? Isn’t it true? He wants me gone. He just doesn’t have the courage to finish it. So he uses his power to humiliate me until I’m the one who begs for death.” I wiped my tears aggressively, my voice shaking.

“That’s what he wants. For me to beg.”

“He’s not himself.”

“He’s exactly who he is,” I spat. “And I don’t care what happened to him. His pain doesn’t excuse what he’s done to me.”

Lutha didn’t respond. He just looked at me, like, he truly looked at me and I felt a tiny bit of shiver run down my spine.

His eyes softened more and then I swallowed, feeling a tiny bit of flutter in my stomach. He let out a small sigh and muttered my name before extending his hand. I hesitated, but eventually placed mine in his. His grip was firm, but not harsh. He helped me up, steadying me when I swayed.

“You’ll need to be careful,” he muttered, scanning the hallway.

“He’s not going to let this go.”

“I don’t expect him to.”

He nodded slowly, then led me to one of the guest rooms on the lower floor — one far from Alpha Ace’s quarters. The sheets weren’t black. The walls weren’t grey. And there were no pictures reminding me of lives lost. It wasn’t home, but it wasn’t a dungeon either.

Lutha didn’t stay long. He gave me a small nod before locking the door from the outside. I didn’t mind. Being alone was better than being at his mercy.

I took a cold shower, scrubbing my skin until it stung. No matter how hard I tried, the filth wouldn’t come off. I stared at myself in the mirror, my red eyes, the bruises, the emptiness in my chest.

Was I still me? Or had I already turned into a ghost? I chose ghost.

Later that night, I heard something. A low growl, deep and guttural, just outside the door.

I held my breath.

The knob twisted violently, but the lock held. A few seconds passed, then I heard footsteps storming away, followed by a crash somewhere down the hall.

He was looking for me.

He was angry.

And he didn’t know where Lutha had put me. I curled under the sheets, heart pounding like a warning drum in my chest. He would find me tomorrow. Maybe the next day. But this moment, this fleeting sliver of peace, was all I had.

And it wasn’t going to last.

The next morning, I was dragged from the room by two pack guards and thrown into the training arena, where the rest of the omegas were lined up. I didn’t remember the last time I trained. My body was too weak, my mind too numb. But none of that mattered to Ace.

He stood at the far end, arms crossed, expression blank. His black shirt clung to his chest, his jaw tight. But his eyes, they were bloodshot. They looked cold and empty like he hadn’t slept.

Or maybe he had dreamt of killing me.

“Pair them,” he ordered. “No holding back.”

I was paired with Mira, one of the younger omegas. She trembled as she stepped in front of me, clearly terrified. Not of me. Of him. Because we all knew this wasn’t about training. This was punishment.

“For both of you,” he said, watching us like a predator, “I want bruises.”

The whistle blew, and Mira lunged at me with shaky hands. I caught her wrists easily, but didn’t fight back. I didn’t want to hurt her.

“Hit me,” she whispered. “Please.”

“What?”

“He’ll hurt me if I don’t try.”

I stared at her, then did what I had to. I grabbed her arm and tossed her over my shoulder softly, gently but enough to make it look convincing. She groaned, curling on the floor, and I stood over her with clenched fists.

Ace’s eyes bored into me. I didn’t flinch. I just stared back.

“Again,” he said. “Until I say stop.”

We went again. And again. And again. Mira’s nose bled, my arms were bruised, and still he didn’t say stop. Only when I fell to my knees, struggling to breathe, did he finally wave us off.

“Clean yourselves up,” he said coldly. “You’re not done for the day.”

I limped back to the guest room with help from one of the maids, who avoided eye contact the whole way. Once inside, I collapsed on the floor, too exhausted to cry, too sore to think. But then the door opened again, and he walked in.

I froze.

Alpha Ace stepped inside slowly, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He didn’t speak. He just stood there, staring at me on the floor.

I didn’t say anything either. My throat was raw. My face swollen. I didn’t have the strength.

He walked over and crouched in front of me, his expression unreadable.

“Why did you puke?”

I blinked. That’s what he came here for?

“I don’t know,” I murmured. “Maybe because you shoved your c**k down my throat without warning.”

His jaw tightened.

I kept going. “Maybe because I’m tired of pretending to be okay. Maybe because I want to feel something other than this.”

“This?”

“This pain. This rage. This helplessness. You take everything from me and leave me with nothing but the sound of your voice in my nightmares.” I was doing it again. I was speaking without permission. I was pouring my heart out.

He didn’t flinch. Just reached forward and touched the bruise on my cheek, his fingers light, them he pressed down on the bruise. Hard. I hissed in pain, shutting my eyes. Before I shut them, I could see the tiny bit of amusement and pleasure flickering in his eyes from watching me in pain.

"I meant to do that, little mouse."

I laughed bitterly. “You meant everything else. You mean everything you do!"

His eyes met mine, and for the first time in a long while, I thought I saw something flicker behind the cold mask. Regret? Doubt?

But it didn’t matter.

Because I didn’t care.

I slapped his hand away and crawled onto the bed, turning my back at him.

“Get out,” I whispered without thinking.

Then, a hand grabbed my neck, slamming me to the wall.

"You're f*****g dead."