28

Oh God... What on earth is this?

Just when I thought things had already hit rock bottom, just when I genuinely believed that the worst had already happened to me, everything kept getting ten times worse. It felt like every time I reached the absolute lowest point of my life, a trapdoor opened underneath my feet and dropped me into a whole new depth of hell.

Why was this brutal beast—this absolute monster who dared to call himself an Alpha—putting my bleeding finger straight into his mouth? What kind of twisted, sickening animal behavior was this?

A terrible shiver ran down my spine as his hot tongue brushed against my open wound. I tried to yank my hand back in sheer disgust, but his massive fingers held my wrist in a vice-like grip, pinning me completely helpless in front of him.

His dark eyes narrowed into slow, predatory slits, watching my terrified face as he gently pulled my thumb out of his mouth. He swallowed slowly, a strange, unhinged look washing over his sharp features as he parted his lips.

"Wow..." he murmured, his deep voice dropping into a low, terrifying hum that made my heart hammer violently against my ribs. "Your blood tastes exceptionally good... Hmm. I have tasted the blood of countless enemies and captives over my years, but I have never tasted anything quite like this before. Strange... very strange."

He reached into the front pocket of his dark trousers with his free hand, pulling out a clean, folded cloth handkerchief. Without a single word, he wrapped the soft white fabric tightly around my deep cut, applying firm pressure to stop the crimson blood from soaking through. He moved with a strange, careful gentleness—tying the makeshift bandage around my injured thumb as if he weren't the exact same monster who had forced me to pick up razor-sharp glass with my bare hands in the first place.

Once the knot was tied securely around my thumb, Alpha Lucien didn't let go of me.

Instead, he reached back into his pocket with his other hand, pulling out a second, fresh cloth handkerchief. He leaned in closer, his heavy shadow engulfing me completely, and gently raised his hand to my face.

I froze, holding my breath as he used the soft cotton to wipe away the wet trails of tears running down my blotchy cheeks. His thumb brushed lightly against my jaw, his dark gaze sweeping over every inch of my features with a slow, calculating intensity.

"I didn't realize you were this pretty," he confessed smoothly, a dangerous, wicked smirk curling the edge of his lips as he looked down into my wide, tear-filled eyes. "I must admit, you are a very pretty young girl... But your most beautiful self—your absolute prettiest form—is when you are weeping like this. So I guess I will just have to work on that from now on. I will do everything within my power to make sure you are always looking your absolute prettiest self while you are under my roof."

A cold knot of horror tightened in the pit of my stomach as his sickening words hung in the quiet air between us.

"And to be completely honest with you," he continued, his tone laced with a dark, twisted pleasure as he tucked the stained handkerchief back into his pocket, "I actually love watching you cry. Seeing your tears flow gladdens my cold heart... especially since I have been in such a foul, miserable mood all morning long. So please, make sure you save up plenty of those tears, Vicenzo. Or rather, if you are going to cry, make sure you prepare yourself for the massive ocean of tears you are about to shed... because I assure you, you are going to weep until your throat is raw. And until you finally learn some proper manners and respect, you will keep weeping every single day."

The moment his hand lifted away from my face, a hot burst of pure, overwhelming disgust rushed through my body. I couldn't stand being near his suffocating presence for another second. I quickly turned my back on him, picking up my skirt as I prepared to hurry out the massive double doors.

"Where do you think you are going?" his sharp, icy voice cut through the quiet room like a cracking whip, freezing my boots instantly against the floorboards.

I stopped in my tracks, my shoulders going rigid as I slowly turned my head back to face him.

Alpha Lucien stood up to his full, towering height, looking down his nose at me with a cold, unbothered expression.

"I actually knew that the glass was going to cut your hands," he admitted casually, tilting his head with a small, malicious tilt of his chin. "In fact, the entire reason I commanded you to use your bare hands was because I wanted to see your blood spill. But just because you sustained a tiny, minor little scratch on your finger doesn't mean you are exempted from your hard labor today. You will still stay right inside this room and ensure that every single corner is sparkling clean. There should not be a single piece of broken glass left behind when you are finished."

Without waiting for a response, Alpha Lucien turned his back on me and walked over to the wooden chair near the balcony. He picked up his dark shirt, sliding his broad, tattooed arms into the sleeves and buttoning it up with calm, deliberate movements.

He didn't give me another glance. Gliding past me with long, heavy strides, he pushed open the massive oak doors and stepped out into the grand hallway, leaving me completely alone in the silent, glass-covered room.