Betrayed By My Mate, Claimed By His Lycan King Uncle

Madam Melisa and the maids quickly stepped back as the guards responsible for Sorayah's and Lily's suffering rushed to obey Dimitri's silent command. They hastily freed the two young women from the wooden chairs they had been bound to, allowing them to collapse onto the cold stone floor.

Dimitri strode past them without a second glance, his long coat billowing slightly behind him as he made his way toward the chair his eunuch had swiftly placed down. With effortless grace, he sat, his piercing gaze now fixed on Madam Melisa.

A smirk curled on his lips as his eyes flickered downward, taking in the broken forms of Sorayah and Lily. Blood stained their torn garments, their battered bodies trembling with exhaustion and pain. Yet instead of ordering them to be treated, he simply allowed them to remain there, bleeding, suffering.

Of course. Sorayah thought bitterly, struggling to stay conscious. I should have known better than to expect mercy from him.

She had hoped, no, foolishly expected that Dimitri would order his servants to tend to their wounds immediately. But he did nothing. Just sat there, watching. And why wouldn't he? He was Dimitri, after all. The devil himself. A man who did not care whether someone lived or died.

"The new maids have been assigned duties." Dimitri uttered as he took in Sorayah's and Lily's outfits.

Madam Melisa stepped forward, her head bowed respectfully. "Yes, my lord," she answered, her voice carefully measured. "They are lowly servants. They stole from the kitchen. Had I known you would be passing through, I would have handled them later. I had no intention of disturbing you."

Dimitri's smirk faded. His expression darkened, turning as cold as ice. "Who assigned them the duties of the lowest maids?"

His voice, though soft, carried a dangerous weight.

Instantly, Madam Melisa and every maid in the quarters dropped to their knees, pressing their foreheads to the ground. Fear rippled through them like a chilling wind.

No one dared to provoke Dimitri when he was like this.

Disturbing the Beta Lord was akin to seeking death.

"Forgive us, my lord," Madam Melisa pleaded, her voice quivering. "We did not intend to disturb your peace."

Dimitri's gaze bore into her. His silence stretched unbearably, tightening like a noose around her neck.

Then, his voice cut through the air like a blade.

"Are you deaf?" His tone was laced with quiet fury. "I asked who assigned them duties?"

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A cold shiver ran down Madam Melisa's spine. She swallowed hard, feeling a lump lodge in her throat.

"I... I assigned them duties, my lord," she admitted, trembling. "It is my responsibility to assign all newly sent maids their work."

Dimitri's fingers drummed idly against the armrest of his chair. His gaze remained locked on her, unblinking. "Did the eunuch who brought them here tell you they were servants of the household? Or did he specify that they belonged to the Beta Lord?"

Madam Melisa's breath hitched. The air in the compound seemed to grow heavier, suffocating her.

"I..." she hesitated, her mind racing for a way to appease him. But lying would only seal her fate.

"He said..." She inhaled sharply, forcing herself to speak. "He said they were for the Beta Lord."

The moment the words left her lips, she pressed her forehead to the floor, her entire body trembling.

"I accept my mistake, my lord," she whispered. "I should have awaited your orders before assigning your personal maids any duties. Please, have mercy."

Dimitri let out a scoff, his lips curling into a cruel smile. "Mercy?" he repeated, as though amused by the mere suggestion.

He then rose to his feet, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the kneeling maids.

"It's good that you recognize your mistake," he continued. "And perhaps, after tonight, others will learn from it as well."

Madam Melisa's breath quickened.

She could hear the steady sound of his footsteps as he moved past her.

Then, the unmistakable sound of metal scraping against wood echoed through the chamber.

Madam Melisa clenched her eyes shut, recognizing the sound immediately.

One of the many knives she had prepared earlier, the very knives she had planned to use to sever Sorayah's and Lily's hands was now in Dimitri's grasp.

"This one looks good," Dimitri mused as he inspected the blade, his voice carrying an eerie calm.

Then, without another word, he turned and walked toward her.

Madam Melisa's entire body stiffened as the scent of his cologne filled her nostrils, overpowering even the metallic tang of blood in the air.

She did not dare to raise her head.

"Please, my lord," she whispered. "Have mercy."

But Dimitri did not respond.

The knife in his hand gleamed under the dim light.

Sorayah, still conscious but barely holding on, could only watch as the scene unfolded. Lily, on the other hand, had already lost consciousness, her body limp beside her.

Sorayah pressed a trembling hand against Lily's wrist, checking her pulse.

Still alive.

A weak sigh of relief escaped her lips. The herbal remedy she had given Lily before they reached the werewolf kingdom was working. It wouldn't heal her completely, but it would prevent her from slipping away. She just needed rest.

Sorayah, however, wasn't sure if the same mercy would be granted to Madam Melisa tonight.

What is he planning to do? Sorayah questioned in her mind, watching Dimitri with a growing sense of unease. Is he going to kill them all?...

A sudden command rang through the air, sharp and absolute.

"Stretch your hands forward!"

Dimitri's voice resounded through the entire compound, sending a shiver down the spines of everyone present.

"Everyone who laid a hand on what belongs to me, stretch your hands forward."

Madam Melisa trembled, still kneeling, her body frozen in terror. But she knew better than to hesitate. Disobedience meant death.

Without a word, she slowly extended her hand, her fingers shaking violently.

One by one, the other female servants, those who had set Sorayah and Lily up as well as the guards who had beaten them, followed suit. Each of them stretched their hands forward, their faces pale with dread.

Dimitri's gaze swept over them, his cold, unyielding eyes dark with menace.

"You should have known better than to touch what belongs to me," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Then, in a swift, brutal motion, he raised the knife and brought it down.

A sickening thud echoed through the compound as Madam Melisa's hand was severed from her wrist. It fell to the ground with a lifeless plop, followed by a violent gush of blood that splattered across the dirt.

A piercing scream tore from her lips as she clutched the bleeding stump, her body convulsing in agony.

Dimitri did not pause.

His movements were precise, merciless. One after another, the blade sliced through flesh and bone, severing the hands of every servant who had dared to defy him.

By the time he was done, the ground was littered with severed limbs, their owners writhing in agony, their wails filling the air. The scent of blood was thick and heavy, saturating the night.

Yet Dimitri remained unmoved.

His eyes dark and fathomless glowed with cold satisfaction as he slowly raised the bloodied knife to his lips.

Then, with deliberate slowness, he ran his tongue across it, tasting the blood of those who had defied him.

"Let this serve as a lesson to the rest of you," he announced, his voice cutting through the cries of the wounded.

"Once I claim something, no one..." his gaze flickered over the trembling maids and guards, "...no one ever touches it except me."

Just as the last word left his lips, the sky rumbled ominously.

Clouds gathered, thick and dark, swallowing the moon.

Then, as if the heavens themselves responded to his wrath, rain began to pour, heavy and relentless.

The blood on the ground was quickly swept away, mixing with the dirt, vanishing as if it had never been there.

Sorayah's eyes widened in horror, her body trembling as she watched the scene unfold. He regard her as what belongs to him but Sorayah knew better that being claimed by him is a death sentence.

He would break her, bend her to his will because she had dared to defy him once. And now, he would make her life a living hell. After all, if anyone was to make her suffer, it would be him. He would ensure she regretted ever disobeying his orders.

Dimitri was ruthless. Merciless.

A monster.

And now, that monster was walking toward her, stepping on his victims limps like they were leaves.

She barely had time to react before he stopped before her, the knife still gripped in his hand with blood dripping from it.

Her breath hitched.

Her body tensed, instinct screaming at her to move, to run...

But she couldn't.

Her strength was long gone.

The last shred of consciousness she had been clinging to slipped away the moment Dimitri knelt beside her, his piercing eyes locking onto hers.

Then without a word, he dropped the knife, the blade sinking slightly into the mud and with a shocking gentleness, he slipped his arms beneath her and lifted her effortlessly into his arms.

Gasps of disbelief rippled through the gathered servants and guards. Even his eunuch stiffened in shock.

Dimitri held her firmly, possessively.

"I will carry her, my lord," his eunuch quickly stepped forward, lowering his head in submission.

Dimitri didn't even spare him a glance.

Instead, he turned sharply, his soaked cloak billowing behind him as he strode toward the entrance of the servant quarters.

"Carry her sister."

The command was firm, unquestionable.

And then, without another word, he disappeared into the rain, carrying Sorayah away.