Hooked Between the Alpha Twins

Chapter 6

Sapphire's POV

The cold metal bars pressed against my back as I slumped against the side of the cage. I could feel every ridge and every rusted spot digging into my spine, the weight of exhaustion pulling me down. Around me, the other captives shifted and murmured, their voices low and afraid. I didn't recognize most of them—strangers with dirt-smeared faces and hollowed eyes. We were all in the same hell now, trapped together like animals waiting for slaughter.

The air inside the cage was thick with the stench of fear and sweat. I tried to focus on breathing, slow and steady, but each inhale felt like dragging a knife across my throat. My hands rested on my belly, and I could feel the slight swell beneath my fingertips—the only thing keeping me tethered to myself. I whispered silent prayers for my unborn child, for strength, for survival.

Outside, the camp bustled with activity. I could hear the slave traders barking orders, the clatter of metal as they sharpened blades or hammered stakes into the ground. Their leader, a tall man with a scar that cut across his face like a jagged canyon, walked with an air of cruel authority. I had seen him glance my way more than once, his eyes narrowing like a predator sizing up his next meal.

I didn’t know how long we’d been here—days, maybe weeks. Time lost all meaning when you were trapped like this, every minute a slow drip of agony. The captives around me had given up trying to make sense of it, resigned to their fate. I could feel my own resolve weakening with each passing hour.

Suddenly, the cage door creaked open, and a burst of frigid air swept through, sending a shiver down my spine. The leader’s voice cut through the chatter, harsh and commanding.

“Bring her out,” he barked. “The one with the blue eyes.”

I stiffened. Blue eyes. He meant me. I had been cursed with them since birth, a color that marked me apart in this wretched world. The other captives turned their heads, their eyes darting toward me with a mixture of pity and relief. They knew, just as I did, that being singled out never meant anything good.

Two of the guards reached in, their hands rough and unforgiving as they yanked me to my feet. My legs were numb from sitting for so long, and I stumbled forward, nearly collapsing. One of them gripped my arm tighter, dragging me out into the open air.

I squinted against the sudden brightness. The camp stretched out before me—a series of makeshift tents, a smoldering fire pit, and piles of discarded belongings from those who had been unlucky enough to cross paths with these monsters. The smell of smoke and decay clung to everything.

“Let her go,” the leader said, his voice carrying an edge of disdain. I glanced up at him, searching for some hint of his intentions. His face remained a mask, unreadable, save for that cruel scar.

The guards hesitated, but then they shoved me forward. I stumbled again, this time catching myself just before I hit the ground. My heart pounded in my chest, a wild drumbeat of confusion and fear. Why were they letting me go? What kind of twisted game was this?

I didn’t wait to find out. As soon as I felt the slack in their grip, I bolted. I heard them laughing behind me, mocking me, but I didn’t care. The wind whipped against my face, and my lungs burned with every breath. I ran past the edge of the camp and into the woods, pushing through the underbrush with everything I had.

Branches tore at my skin, and roots seemed to rise up to trip me. The forest was dense, the trees closing in on me like towering shadows. I didn’t know where I was going—only that I had to keep moving. I had to get away. The ground was uneven, the terrain unfamiliar, but I pushed on, driven by the primal need to survive.

Panic clawed at my throat. I had no idea where I was, no sense of direction. Every turn looked the same, every shadow seemed to hold some lurking danger. But I couldn’t stop. If I stopped, they might catch up. And I knew, without a doubt, that they wouldn’t be so generous the next time.

I kept running, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my muscles screaming in protest. I could feel my energy waning, my legs growing weaker with every step. Then it happened—a sharp pain exploded in my ankle as it twisted on a loose rock. I cried out, the sound tearing from my throat as I fell to the ground.

Pain shot up my leg like fire. I tried to move, to crawl, but the agony was blinding. I could barely breathe, my heart pounding in my ears. I lay there, my body shaking, the taste of blood in my mouth from where I’d bitten my lip.

I pressed my hand to my stomach, a desperate attempt to shield the life growing inside me. “Stay with me,” I whispered to my baby, my voice trembling. “Please, stay with me.”

The world around me spun, the trees blurring together into a dark, formless mass. I couldn’t stay here. I had to keep moving. But my body wouldn’t listen. The pain was too much. My breaths came in shallow gasps, and I could feel the darkness closing in at the edges of my vision.

I tried to focus, to stay awake, but my thoughts were slipping away like sand through my fingers. I felt a deep, aching fear settle in my chest, a fear that this might be the end—that I might not get to see my child, to hold them, to give them the life they deserved.

And then, everything suddenly went black.