"Please—please don't cut off my

hand!"

The desperate plea echoed through the

dimly lit chamber, bouncing off the cold stone walls. The scent of damp earth

and blood filled the air, thick and suffocating. The torches lining the walls

flickered weakly, casting long, jagged shadows across the room.

In the center, kneeling on the rough

ground, was a man drenched in sweat. His body trembled violently, his wrists

bound behind his back with thick iron cuffs. His eyes, wide with terror, darted

around the room, searching for mercy in faces that held none. He swallowed

hard, trying to wet his dry throat as he stared up at the silhouette of the

monster before him.

A heavy silence followed.

Then—

A low, amused chuckle. Deep. Cold.

Menacing.

The shadowed figure leaned forward,

elbows resting on his knees, fingers clasped together in a relaxed manner. The

dim light caught the ink sprawled across his arms—dark tattoos winding up his

biceps, disappearing into the rolled sleeves of his shirt. His broad shoulders,

sculpted with raw power, gave him an almost godlike pres

Alpha Killian.

The Devil himself

The traitor's breath hitched as he

tried again, his voice breaking. "Please, I swear by the Moon Goddess, I

did try! I did! I—"

Another chuckle, this one darker, more

mocking

"You want me to spare you?"

Killian's voice was deep, rough, filled with a quiet kind of malice. He tilted

his head slightly, watching the man shake. Pathetic.

The traitor nodded frantically. "I

promise, Alpha. I'll do anything. I'll go back, I'll get the intel. Just—please—spare me

Killian exhaled, sitting back in his

chair, his sharp gaze fixed on the man before him. He wasn't in a rush. He

enjoyed watching his prey squirm, relished the taste of their fear. It was

intoxicating.

"You went to our rival's pack on a

mission," he mused, his voice calm, deliberate. "A mission that required nothing but stealth, precision, and loyalty."

The kneeling man shuddered.

"And yet…" Killian leaned

forward again, his lips curling into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"You went there and spent the night in some filthy brothel with cheap

whores. And now…" His voice dropped to a near whisper, lethal and laced

with venom. "You expect me to believe you were doing your job?"

"I-I wasn't thinking, Alpha—

"That much is clear

The room fell silent again. The only

sound was the soft crackling of the torches. The other pack warriors stood in a

rigid line along the walls, their expressions void of sympathy. They knew

better. There was no redemption for betrayer!

Killian stood, his movements slow,

calculated. The man flinched at the sheer size of him, the way his muscles

tensed beneath his black shirt, the deadly grace in his stance.

A sharp glint of steel caught the

light.

The traitor's eyes widened in horror as

he recognized the weapon in Killian's grip—a gleaming blade, curved and

wickedly sh

"N-no, please, Alpha—please, I

swear"

Killian exhaled, tilting his head as if

considering. Then, with a ghost of a smirk, he spoke the words that sealed the

man's fate.

"Swearing by the Moon Goddess

means nothing when you have no honor."

And then—

A scream.

A sickening, wet sound of flesh parting

beneath cold metal.

Blood splattered across the stone

floor. The traitor's cry of agony ripped through the chamber, raw and

unfiltered. His severed hand dropped to the ground with a dull thud.

Killian wiped the blade clean against

the man's shirt, watching him writhe. He felt nothing.

Turning to his warriors, he spoke, his

voice firm, emotionless.

"Let this serve as a reminder to

all." He met their gazes, unyielding. "Betrayal is met with

punishment. Failure is met with consequences."

Then, his cold eyes returned to the

bleeding, sobbing mess at his feet.

"Dispose him."

And just like that, the Devil walked

away.