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Chapter 33



That’s what Dark aimed for. Physical and psychological torture.

He already stopped the shock collar, there were only two girls still conscious.

“Do you guys have a phobia of anything?” he started, then probes through their thoughts, “Heights, no?”


“Hmm, perhaps... insects?”

One of them seemed to shift slightly, it was Charlotte, she plays it off, but of course, Dark caught on.

“Cockroaches? Bugs? Spiders—?”

Nothing gave it away from the outside, but Dark heard Charlotte’s heart skip a beat upon the mention of spiders, and he knew the best way to use it.

“Carson, Van, take her to the Ace of Spades, make them prepare a room full of spiders”

Charlottle looked like a deer caught in the headlights, then frantic, she looks up at Dark, “Pleesh, nuh!” she pleaded, her words muffled by the cloth in between her mouth.

Dark merely smiled at her sadistically. Now, they knew who he was, and all of the things he was capable of. After Charlotte was taken out of the building, which involved a lot of muffled screaming and crying until they injected sedative into her bloodstream, Dark turned to Eleanor.

Dark roughly tugged the cloth loose, Eleanor glares up at him.

“Oh, love, don’t look at me like that...” Dark cooed mockingly. He bended down then leaned in, stopping centimeters from her face, “It makes me want to gauge your eyeballs out,” he whipsers to her in a low tone that could be mistaken to be seductive, staring into Eleanor’s eyes, then he let out a throaty laugh. It felt like dealing with the actual devil himself.

If Eleanor wasn’t terrified to her bones earlier, she was now—and she was shaking in fear, looking at everything but Dark.

“I’ll do anything! Just-just please let me go, please!” she pleaded, looking up at Dark with hope. She searched her mind for something more to say, just something to get her out of this.

“I-I’ll be your slave!” she exclaimed so suddenly, “I’ll let you do anything with my body, please just—” she stopped abruptly when Dark looked back at her with disgust, with a storm in his eyes that was enough to let you know that he didn’t like what he was hearing.

“What did you just say?” he spat. It was painful, how he looked at her like she had a contagious disease or worse, she was the disease. Her eyes were pooling with tears that she could no longer hold back, “I-I just, please, I beg of you, oh my god, pity me, ple—”

Pity you?” Dark chuckled, “you must be kidding me,” he glared at her with so much intensity. He could kill her at that moment if he so much as focused on stopping Eleanor’s heart from beating, stop her blood from circulating through her body—but no, she needed to be in pain, that’s what Dark wanted.

Slowly, Dark wrapped his hand around her throat, gripping it tightly, “I don’t think you realize, that you nearly killed Asher,” he said through his teeth, tightening his grip even more. Eleanor was appalled, the her face drains of color, not just because she was literally being strangled—possibly to death—but because that was never a part of the plan. The plan was to execute Alexia, and Alexia alone. That bitch, Gwen, she fucked it up and now all five of them were suffering.

Dark could feel Eleanor’s throat being crushed against his hand, and still, he wanted to hurt her even more. For nearly getting Alexia raped, for getting Alexia harassed and molested, for planning to kill her, for nearly killing Asher. He wanted all five of them to feel tormented. He watched Eleanor lose consciousness, then immediately let go.

Shoot her. Shoot her. Shoot her. Shoot her. Shoot her. Shoot her. His mind kept nagging him.

The sound of his gun going off echoed through the warehouse.

One bullet through her leg.

“Take her to the room full of mirrors. Isolate her, starve her,” he ordered his men. They all nod at him. He picked up his leather jacket, “call me when one of them wakes up,” he said before leaving the building to go back to his mate.


Alexia was under the care of Asher in Dark’s room, after getting cleaned up with the help of the maids, that is. It’s been a few hours since the incident.

Asher sighed after ending another phone call, he kept getting them back and forth since the moment they made it back to the mansion.

You wouldn’t have guessed he died and came back to life just a few hours ago. She winced as the events suddenly started to reel back into her head.

“Hey, try not to think about it, yeah?” Asher said, squeezing her arm momentarily, making her nod in response.

“How did Dark know where I was?”

Asher’s eyebrows furrowed, unable to answer her, he shook his head, “I don’t know either, to be honest.”

As if on cue, the door slammed shut, making them snap their heads towards the door.

Dark. Still in the same clothes, he looked... unwell, in a way. A frown was evident on his lips. He took slow steps towards Alexia, whatever he was feeling, he couldn’t find the word for it. Unsettled, perhaps. For the first time in years, he felt powerless again, he felt like he wasn’t in control—that unsettled him. A lot.

Asher took this as his cue to leave, squeezing Alexia’s arm once more as reassurance before making his way out the room and shutting the door completely.

Dark slipped in his bed beside Alexia, wrapping his arms around her. It made her sigh, there were tingles on her chest again as she leaned in to him further.

“I don’t know what to do with you,” he whispered.

There were dilemmas in his head, going haywire, completely out of control. That he didn’t want to love nor did he knew how to. He didn’t know why it had to be her, why she just had to be someone for him. She should hate him, that’s all he’s ever been trying to make her feel, to hate him—it was evident that she didn’t though, although she had all the right to, although she really should.

Alexia merely hummed, unable to decide on what he meant. I don’t know what to do with you. He sounded sad, for once, he sounded like he had emotions other than anger, anger, and anger.

“How are you feeling?”


“Did you get sleep when you got here?”

“A bit”


“How did you find me?”

Dark buries his head on the crook of her neck, “The necklace I gave you,” he answered.

“There’s something inside, it helps me track where you are.”


“I don’t want to not know where are you are again.”

He meant after what happened with Xavier, when Xavier kidnapped her. He knew, he just knew that it would happen again. That someone would kidnap her again, and he wasn’t having it.

“You’re not human?”

“No,” he answered her cautiously.

“What about me?”

“Mostly likely not,” he answered once again. This left her with nothing to say, which he understood. For thinking you were human for your whole life, and suddenly you weren’t. And so silence took place in the air.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered the words abruptly, and it lingered in the air. They both didn’t know why he was saying sorry. What happened, it wasn’t his fault, but maybe, maybe it was sorry from the first time to the last.

Before she could answer him, he spoke again, “Don’t forgive me, I don’t want you to.”

So she kept her lips together, closed her eyes and hoped that he was still beside her when she wakes up. She didn’t know if she would have forgiven him anyway, she liked to think that she would—nonetheless.

But of course she didn’t know he could hear a faint whisper of her thoughts in the back of his mind.

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