Chapter 8 Brutal Interrogation

Valencia’s POV

Listening to the fading footsteps, I let out a long breath, only then realizing I'd been holding it the entire time.

What had just happened? I knew some men took liberties with their slaves, but... this wasn't quite the same, was it? What Logan had done felt almost impulsive, like he'd acted on pure whim. But for me, a virgin, it had been the most unlikely experience imaginable.

I pushed my hair back from my face, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. What did this mean? A vague unease about the future settled over me.

I looked around the room. Why didn't Logan have any attendants? He seemed to be the only one without servants waiting on him. Had he come alone?

Though the room wasn't cluttered, it showed signs that the castle's servants still maintained it. What was I supposed to do now? I had no idea when Logan would return. I remembered his command to clean myself up.

My eyes fell on the bathtub. Steam still rose from the water. Logan had told me to bathe. Could I really use it? I walked closer, staring at the herbs still floating on the surface.

I quickly stripped off my torn dress and slipped into the tub before I could change my mind. The thought of washing in the same water he'd used made my cheeks flush a vivid crimson. I could still feel the lingering sensation of his fingers inside me. No one had ever touched me like that before. I remembered being whipped by Luna Kestrel multiple times, simply for cleaning Alpha Marcus's room. I'd learned to stay away from men—it was the only way to protect myself. But I couldn't refuse or ignore this Alpha who had claimed me as his own. Perhaps that was a dangerous thought.

Afraid someone might come, I scrubbed myself quickly with a cloth, trying to wash away years of dirt and blood. The water turned murky brown. When was the last time I'd had a proper bath? I couldn't remember.

After climbing out, I wrung out my dress in the leftover bathwater. The fabric was so worn it barely held together, stained with years of abuse. Some of the bloodstains - both mine and others' - would never come out no matter how hard I scrubbed. Even clean, it looked like a rag. I sighed helplessly.

I was still naked, wringing water from the dress, when the door suddenly burst open with a violent crash.

My heart stopped. I spun around, clutching the wet dress to my chest in a futile attempt at modesty.

"You!" Elijah's voice dripped with venom as he stepped into the room. "I knew it. I fucking knew you'd still be here."

Behind him, another man pushed through the doorway—someone I didn't recognize. He was shorter than Elijah but broader, with a cruel mouth and cold eyes that swept over my naked form with undisguised interest. His clothing marked him as someone from outside Mistmarsh.

My fingers tightened on the wet dress, my heart hammering so hard I thought my ribs might crack. "Get out," I managed, my voice barely a whisper. "Alpha Logan will—"

"Alpha Logan?" Elijah laughed, the sound harsh and mocking. He took another step forward. "That's exactly what we're here to discuss, Valencia. You see, my new friend here has some very interesting questions about why exactly the great Alpha Logan would save a worthless piece of shit like you."

The stranger's lips curved into a predatory smile. "Indeed. It's quite the mystery. An Alpha of Logan's stature doesn't typically concern himself with wolfless slaves. Yet he interrupted a sacred ceremony, defied tradition, and claimed you like you were something precious." His eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"I don't know," I said quickly, backing toward the wall. The stone was cold against my bare shoulders. "I swear, I don't know why he—"

"Liar." Elijah lunged forward and grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to bruise. The dress fell from my hands as he yanked me toward the door. "You must have done something. Said something. Offered him something."

"No!" I struggled against his grip, but I was too weak. "Please, I didn't—"

The stranger moved to my other side, his hand clamping down on my other arm. "Let's have this conversation somewhere more private, shall we? Somewhere we won't be interrupted."

Terror shot through me like lightning. I knew what that meant. I'd seen slaves dragged away for "private conversations" before. Some came back. Many didn't.

"No, please," I begged, my voice breaking. I tried to dig my heels into the floor, but they simply lifted me off my feet. My nakedness made everything worse. "Please, just let me go. I'll tell you everything I know, I swear—"

"Save it for downstairs," Elijah snarled.

They hauled me out into the corridor, my bare feet scraping against the rough stone. I tried to scream, but Elijah's hand clamped over my mouth, cutting off the sound. Panic consumed me.

The castle's lower levels grew darker and colder as they dragged me down the spiral staircase. Fewer torches lit these corridors. The air smelled of damp and decay. They shoved me through a wooden door into a small stone chamber. The impact sent me sprawling onto the filthy floor. Pain exploded through my knees and palms as I hit the ground.

Before I could scramble away, rough hands grabbed me and hauled me up, slamming me against the wall. The stranger's face was inches from mine, his breath hot and foul.

"Now then," he said softly, his voice all the more terrifying for its calmness. "Let's try this again. Why did Alpha Logan save you?"

"I don't know!" The words tumbled out in a desperate rush. "I was tied to the pillar, waiting to die. The rogues attacked. He cut my ropes and protected me. I don't know why!"

The stranger's fist connected with my stomach. Air exploded from my lungs. I doubled over, gasping, but his grip kept me upright.

"Not good enough," he said. "What did you promise him? What bargain did you make?"

"Nothing," I wheezed, tears streaming down my face. "I made no bargain. I didn't even speak to him until after—"

Elijah's backhand caught me across the face. My head snapped to the side, and I tasted copper. Blood filled my mouth.

"You're lying," Elijah growled. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, forcing my head back. "Someone like you doesn't get saved by someone like him without a reason. So start talking, or we'll beat the truth out of you."

"I'm telling the truth!" My voice cracked with desperation. "I don't understand it either! I thought I was going to die, and then he was just there, and—"

Another blow. This one to my ribs. Something cracked, and white-hot agony blazed through my chest. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Could only feel the overwhelming pain radiating from my side.

"Perhaps she really doesn't know," the stranger mused, as if discussing the weather rather than my suffering. "Perhaps our dear Alpha Logan has developed a taste for broken things."

"Or," Elijah said, his scarred face splitting into an ugly grin, "she's his spy. Planted here to gather information. It would explain everything."

"No," I gasped out. "That's insane. I've been a slave here for fifteen years. How could I possibly—"

The stranger's fist slammed into my face again. More blood. My vision swam. The room tilted and spun.

Through the haze of pain and fear, I heard their voices continuing to interrogate me, but the words no longer made sense. Everything was fragmenting, breaking apart like ice under too much weight.

This is how I die, I thought distantly. Not on the funeral pyre like I expected, but here, in the dark, beaten to death by men looking for answers I don't have.

A small, bitter part of me almost laughed. Even death couldn't come simply.

Then came a sound that cut through everything else—a door exploding inward with such force that splinters of wood rained down like hail.

I managed to lift my head, my swollen eyes struggling to focus.

Through the dust and debris, a figure stood in the doorway. Tall. Imposing. Utterly still.

Alpha Logan.

His face was completely blank—no rage, no emotion at all. His gray eyes swept the room, taking in every detail with cold precision. Me, naked and bleeding on the floor. Elijah's hands still tangled in my hair. The stranger frozen mid-motion.