Betrayed By My Mate, Claimed By His Lycan King Uncle-Chapter 45: I Might Just Groom You Myself.

Ego bowed his head in submission. "As you wish, Your Highness. I'll bring the new slaves immediately."

Sorayah's heart pounded as she watched Ego make his way toward one of the iron-barred cages filled with trembling women. The sharp clang of the lock breaking sent a jolt through her, a dreadful weight settling in her chest.

Dimitri turned his attention back to her, his smirk widening. His emerald eyes glowed with something cold, something calculated, something inhuman.

"You see, Sorayah," he murmured, his voice as smooth as silk yet dripping with malice, "in this world, slaves are nothing more than property. And property can be molded, shaped, and trained to obey."

A chill ran down Sorayah's spine. Her lips parted, words forming in her mind, but before she could speak, Ego returned, leading a group of shivering, half-starved women onto the stage. Some were barely out of their teens, others older, mothers, wives. Their hollow eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape that did not exist.

Sorayah clenched her fists at her sides, anger and fear simmering beneath her skin like a storm waiting to break.

Dimitri's gaze flicked toward the women, his expression unreadable. "Begin," he commanded, his voice detached, void of emotion.

Ego grinned, his excitement barely restrained. "Let's start with this one," he said, his fingers closing around the arm of a frail young woman. She stumbled as he shoved her forward, her knees scraping against the cold stone floor. A strangled whimper escaped her lips as she was forced onto the platform before Dimitri.

More figures emerged from the shadows, four burly werewolf men, their towering forms clad in dark uniforms. They carried wooden crates, setting them down beside a large metal table at the center of the stage.

The woman whimpered as she was been pulled up and pushed towards the table and laid down on it with her face facing the ceiling, heavy chains snapped around her wrists and ankles, binding her limbs to the table. She struggled, her terrified eyes darting between the faces around her, but resistance was futile.

"Please stop, Your Highness," Sorayah's voice broke as tears welled in her eyes. She couldn't deny that sfe doesn't know what next is about to happen. She turned to Dimitri, her entire body trembling. "I don't want to watch this. I don't want to see..."

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"It's too late, Sorayah." Dimitri's voice was calm, cold, and razor-sharp. "Look away, and you might end up there yourself."

Her breath hitched with fury burning behind her tears. If looks could kill, Dimitri would have been dead where he sat.

A scream tore through the hall.

Sorayah's head snapped toward the table just in time to see glowing-hot metal pressed into the woman's private area and then her boobs. The acrid stench of burning flesh filled the air, thick and suffocating. The woman convulsed, her cries of agony echoing in the hall.

Sorayah's heart dropped.

Ego laughed. "A proper slave must be marked. Otherwise, how will she know who she is?"

The other women in the hall sobbed, clutching the younger girls to their chests, shielding their eyes and ears from the nightmare unfolding before them.

Sorayah took a step forward, her instincts screaming at her to stop this madness. But before she could move, Dimitri caught her wrist, his grip firm, unyielding.

"Why so impatient?" he mused, his lips curling. "It will be your turn soon enough or what do you think?"

She yanked against his grasp, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Why are you doing this? Must they endure such cruelty just to be slaves?"

Dimitri chuckled, the sound void of warmth. "Of course they must. A slave who does not learn obedience is a dead slave. This is how they are broken, how they are molded. You pity them?" He leaned closer, his voice dipping into something dark and mocking. "How ironic. Do you think I was spared such treatment in the human kingdom?"

Sorayah froze. "What?"

Another scream split the air.

Sorayah turned, bile rising in her throat. The woman's body trembled violently, her blood-streaked skin slick with sweat and pain. A thick, red-stained whip lashed against her chest, the strikes slow and deliberate. The instrument was coated in some dark substance, something that made the wounds bubble and fester upon contact.

Sorayah recoiled.

"Let them go," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. "She's going to die."

Dimitri scoffed. "If she dies, then she was not meant to be a slave. Only the strongest survive." He tilted his head, his emerald eyes gleaming with amusement. "You should be watching carefully, Sorayah since this might be you soon."

Her blood ran cold.

The woman's screams had faded to weak whimpers now, her body too drained to fight. The others watched in horror, their silent cries echoing louder than the noise in the hall.

One of the four burly men soon inserted his dragon into the woman's private area, while another inserted his into her mouth, shutting her up. The other two continue stroking their dragons waiting for their turns.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh and loud satisfied groan from the werewolves filled the air.

Sorayah wanted to turn away, to shut her eyes and pretend this was not happening. But Dimitri's grip held her still, forcing her to bear witness.

She thought she knew suffering.

She had endured the suffocating walls of Dimitri's mansion, the chains of captivity, the humiliation of being reduced to nothing. She had hated it. Resented it.

But now she knew the truth.

Her suffering was nothing compared to this.

Those who were taken the werewolves territory were lucky compared to those who were made sex slaves.

Sorayah's chest tightened painfully, her nails digging into her palms. Her tears blurred the scene, but she didn't dare blink.

Bang!

A loud crack split the air.

"She passed out," one of the werewolves muttered, withdrawing from the limp woman on the table. He barely spared her a glance before undoing her chains.

Then, he threw her away.

Sorayah gasped, horror clawing up her throat as the woman's body hit the floor with a sickening thud.

But before she could rush forward, the ground opened up beneath her.

Her body disappeared into the abyss.

A pit.

Dimitri's voice was casual. Unbothered. "She's food for the wild beasts below."

Sorayah staggered back, nausea twisting in her gut.

Wild beasts?

Her lips parted, her breath shaky. "W...What beasts?"

Dimitri didn't answer.

Another werewolf stepped forward, his eyes filled with wicked hunger. He barely looked at the other slaves before his gaze landed on a child.

A girl, no older than sixteen.

Her small frame trembled, her short black hair messy from where she had curled into herself, trying to disappear. Her breath came in quick, terrified gasps as she realized the werewolf had chosen her.

"No..." Sorayah whispered.

But the werewolf grabbed the young girl wrist.

The girl let out a piercing scream, thrashing in his grip.

"No! Please!" Sorayah turned her gaze towards Dimitri who still held her hand tightly, her heart slamming against her ribs. Tears burned down her cheeks, falling fast and hot. "She's just a child! Your Highness, stop this!"

Her voice broke, her body shaking with panic.

The girl fought desperately, her arms flailing as the guards dragged her toward the table. The cuffs snapped shut. The chains rattled.

Sorayah's chest heaved. She couldn't let this happen.

Her gaze remained fixed on Dimitri whose gold gaze was fixed on the table, her vision hazy with tears. "Say something! Stop this madness!"

Only then did he turn to her.

And what she saw in his eyes made her breath hitch.

Nothing. There was no rage. No pleasure. No sadness. Just cold detachment.

And then he spoke.

"I endured the same thing at this age."

Sorayah's body went rigid.

Her lips trembled. "What... do you mean? What the heck are you saying?"

Dimitri tilted his head slightly, his gaze locked onto hers.

"I mean exactly what I said," he murmured, his voice like stone.

Sorayah's mind screamed no.

It can't be true. It didn't make sense. How could a Beta be captured by humans? How could a werewolf undergo all what her people are going through?

"Don't be a lying bastrad monster and just save the girl. Can't you just not be a beat for once? That girl is still a child. She shouldn't go through this your highness." Sorayah cried as she continued struggling to break free Dimitri's grip.

Dimitri let out a low, humorless chuckle.

"Believe what you want."

Sorayah struggled, her nails digging into his skin. Tears streamed down her face, her breath coming in panicked gasps.

"Let me go!" she sobbed.

Dimitri didn't let go.

Instead, he drew her closer, letting her sit on his lap.

His breath ghosted over her ear, his words like a death sentence.

"If you keep this up, I might just groom you myself. Right here, right now. But the question is, will be able to handle all that?"