Betrayed By My Mate, Claimed By His Lycan King Uncle-Chapter 48: Stretch Out Her Hands!

"What are you doing there?"

Sorayah's heart lurched in her chest, and the bow and arrow slipped from her grasp, clattering against the ground.

She recognized the voice instantly, Mira. There was no mistaking it. Without hesitation, she turned her gaze toward the direction of the voice and bowed her head in respect.

Slap!

A thunderous slap cracked across Sorayah's left cheek, and for a moment, she swore she saw stars. A sharp sting spread across her face, her skin burning from the impact.

Dazed, she lifted her gaze and met Mira's furious expression. Only Mira had the right to strike her, after all since she's the only one here with her maids.

Slap!

A second blow followed before Sorayah could fully recover from the first, the force of it sending a sharp ringing through her ears.

What the heck!

Two maids flanked Mira, stepping forward without hesitation. They seized Sorayah by the arms, yanking her down to her knees. Her knees scraped painfully against the rough ground, but she gritted her teeth, refusing to show weakness.

Mira's voice cut through the air like a blade. "How dare you touch the Beta Lord's belongings with your filthy hands?" she spat, her voice laced with venom. Her eyes blazed with fury as she slapped Sorayah again, the third blow only adding to the throbbing pain in her cheek.

The maids holding Sorayah tightened their grip, forcing her to stay kneeling.

"You must think yourself important now that you're the Beta Lord's plaything," Mira sneered. "Do you actually believe your life holds meaning now that you're a sex slave?"

Sorayah swallowed hard, willing herself to remain composed despite the rage that simmered beneath her skin. It took everything in her not to lash out, but she knew better than to act recklessly.

"I'm sorry, my lady," she murmured, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. "I never thought such a thing. I wasn't aware that touching his weapons was forbidden."

Mira scoffed, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Talking back now, are we? You must feel really important now that you're in that dress huh?"

She stepped closer, gripping Sorayah's chin in a vice-like hold, her sharp nails digging into Sorayah's skin hard enough to break it. Blood welled from the small punctures, trickling down Sorayah's chin.

"Everyone knows me as a gentle lady," Mira continued, her lips curling into a mockery of a smile. "Which is why I rarely punish anyone in public but only do so privately. But you've given me a perfect opportunity to discipline you myself."

Sorayah clenched her jaw, hatred burning in her gaze.

Mira leaned in, her breath warm against Sorayah's face. "Touching the Beta Lord's weapons is punishable by death. I don't care if you've started warming his bed at night, you're nothing but a tool. A disposable one at that. You should be grateful I'm only taking your hand and not your life."

The words sent a cold chill down Sorayah's spine.

My hands? She isn't for real, is she?

Mira straightened, stepping away. "You should be punished so you never forget this again and also this would serve as a lesson to others servants."

She turned on her heel, storming toward a table where an array of gleaming swords lay under the golden sunlight.

Sorayah's pulse quickened as she watched Mira's fingers trace the hilt of one before gripping it tightly. A wicked smile curled on Mira's lips as she turned back toward her.

"His Highness won't mind me using his weapon to teach a lesson to an insolent slave," she mused, her eyes gleaming with malice.

Then, her voice rang with command. "Stretch out her hands!"

Terror shot through Sorayah like ice. The two maids immediately wrenched her right hand forward, stretching her arm out with a bruising grip.

"You're not going to do this my lady!" Sorayah's voice rose, her body trembling despite herself. She struggled, but the maids held her firm.

Mira merely smirked, lifting the sword high above her head. "Oh, I will. Should I take your wrist Sorayah? Your arm? Or the entire hand?" she taunted, her tone sickeningly sweet.

Damn! This witch is serious.

Time seemed to slow.

Sorayah's mind raced. Despite her enhanced strength, these maids helding her down weren't ordinary maids, they were elite warriors from Mira's homeland, trained in combat from birth. But even with all their skill, they were no match for her. She had trained in countless forms of martial arts, learned the ways of battle since childhood, and carried the blood of warriors and royalty alike.

And now... she would remind them of that.

As Mira brought the sword down, Sorayah moved.

Her body reacted on instinct. She twisted her arms, shifting just enough to break the grip of the two maids. With a fluid motion, she seized them by their wrists, yanking them forward. Mira's descending blade found a target, just not the one she intended.

Schlkk!

A sickening sound filled the air as blood splattered everywhere.

Red droplets painted Mira's face, staining her pristine gown.

For a moment, silence fell.

Then Mira stumbled backward, her eyes wide with horror. "A-Ah....!"

Before her, the two maids lay sprawled on the ground, their lifeless bodies twitching as blood pooled beneath them. Their heads lay mere inches away, severed clean from their necks.

Mira let out a scream of rage and terror, rushing toward her fallen childhood maids. "What happened? How the hell did this happen?!"

Sorayah remained where she was, panting heavily. Her muscles tensed, prepared for the next attack if necessary.

Mira's maids were skilled, but they had limits. They had underestimated their prey. And Mira... Mira had made a fatal mistake.

She had forgotten that a caged predator, when pushed too far, would always bite back. She was no match for Sorayah.

It might not have resulted to this but then there was no one to save her and she couldn't afford her hands to be cut off hence she saved herself.

"What did you do, bitch?!" Mira screamed, her voice raw with fury as she staggered away from the lifeless bodies of her maids.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, her entire frame trembling not with fear, but with unbridled rage. Blood still pooled around the fallen women, soaking into the dirt, the metallic scent thick in the air. Yet Mira barely spared them another glance before her gaze snapped back to Sorayah.

With a snarl, she stormed toward her.

Sorayah was already standing, her body tense, muscles coiled for the next attack. She was no longer the kneeling, helpless prisoner Mira had mocked just moments ago. She was ready.

No one apart from Mira and her maids had been present at the training grounds, which meant that if Sorayah killed her here, if she fought back and won, no one would know the truth. No one would believe a mere human could possibly defeat a werewolf, let alone one of Mira's stature.

That was the advantage Mira thought she had.

But Sorayah had one of her own.

"How the hell did my maids end up dead instead of you, lowlife?!" Mira shrieked, her face mere inches from Sorayah's. "I heard you know some moves and that's what had kept you alive in the human kingdom. Is that move what you used on my maids just now?! What kind of martial arts did a nobody like you learn?!"

Her grip tightened around the hilt of her sword, the blade still dripping with the blood of her fallen maids.

But Sorayah was no longer defenseless.

Her fingers curled around the hilt of a dagger, the very one Dimitri had given her. She held it low, partially hidden by the folds of her dress, its blade gleaming under the dim sunlight.

Mira didn't notice.

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Blinded by rage, she lifted her sword high, her voice a feral snarl. "Die, you bitch!"

The blade came down in a deadly arc....

Clang!

A powerful force struck the flat of Mira's sword, knocking it clean from her grasp. The weapon tumbled to the ground with a heavy clang, the impact jarring her entire arm. A sharp gasp left her lips as she recoiled, clutching her wrist where the impact had stung deep.

A growl of frustration rumbled in her throat, but before she could react, a voice cut through the air like a whip.

"What the hell is going on here?"

The command sent a ripple of tension through the training grounds, freezing both women in place.

Sorayah and Mira's heads snapped toward the source of the voice.

Standing at the entrance of the training ground was Dimitri Nightshade.

His imposing figure was framed against the backdrop of the setting sun, his sharp, predatory eyes burning with anger. A dangerous energy crackled around him, his mere presence commanding submission.

Sorayah inhaled sharply, her heart pounding against her ribs.

Mira, too, stiffened, but quickly recovered, her expression twisting into one of feigned innocence.

Sorayah wasted no time. In a swift, practiced movement, she tucked the dagger behind her, concealing it from view. She knew better than to appear armed in a confrontation she couldn't yet explain.

Dimitri's gaze swept over the scene, the blood staining the ground, the fallen maids, the sword at Mira's feet.

And then his piercing eyes landed on Sorayah.

He took a step forward. "I'll ask one more time. What the hell happened here?"