Wolves of Betrayal

Chapter : 30. Back to the nightmare..

Killian finally stopped, turning to face her, his eyes dark with rage. Without warning, he swung his fist, landing a brutal punch to her stomach. Pain exploded through her abdomen, and she fell to the ground with a choked cry, clutching her midsection as the breath was knocked from her lungs. She gasped for air, her vision swimming with stars.

"Begging won’t help you now," Killian snarled, his voice cold and filled with a twisted satisfaction. "Now that I have my hands on you again, I’m going to show you what hell really looks like."

Amara groaned in pain, her body curling into itself as she tried to regain her breath. But before she could even think about moving, Killian grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to look up at him. His grip was like iron, pulling her hair so hard she thought he might rip it out by the roots. She whimpered, tears streaming down her face, her scalp burning with pain.

"You think you’re scared now?" Killian whispered, his lips curling into a cruel smile. "Just wait. I’ll make you wish you were never born."

He yanked her to her feet by her hair, ignoring her cries of pain, and began dragging her forward again. Amara's feet stumbled over rocks and roots, her body aching with every step, but she couldn't stop him. She was too weak, too terrified, and the fear of what awaited her back at the Blood Moon Pack was suffocating.

The journey felt endless. Each step closer to her nightmare, each breath filled with dread. She tried to block it out, tried to focus on something—anything—other than the reality of what was happening. But all she could think about was Darius. She had trusted him, believed he would protect her. He had promised. And yet, when she needed him the most, he had let her go. He had let Killian take her.

How could he have done this to me? The thought ran through her mind like a mantra, an agonized question she couldn’t stop repeating. How could he let me go when he knew what Killian would do?

The familiar scent of Blood Moon Pack territory hit her like a slap to the face. Memories of pain, of darkness, of endless days spent in the cold, damp dungeon flooded back. She felt her heart rate spike, her breathing become erratic. She wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or the rising panic. She felt trapped, like a hunted animal being dragged back into a cage.

Killian didn’t say another word as he led her through the dense trees and into the Blood Moon Pack’s territory. The packhouse loomed in the distance, a dark, foreboding structure that seemed to swallow all the light around it. And there, near the base of the structure, was the dungeon—cold and unforgiving.

Amara’s heart pounded in her chest as they drew closer. She knew that dungeon well. She had spent months down there, trapped in darkness, abused and left to rot. The mere sight of it made her skin crawl, and she could feel the first waves of panic beginning to take hold.

“No, no, please,” she whimpered, her voice a high, breathless plea. “Not the dungeon. Please, Killian, I can’t—”

But Killian only laughed, a deep, cruel sound that echoed through the trees. “Oh, you’ll be going back in there, alright,” he said. “Back where you belong. Where I can keep an eye on you.”

He dragged her the rest of the way to the dungeon, and as they reached the entrance, Amara’s panic exploded. Her breathing grew erratic, her chest tightening painfully as flashes of her past began to bombard her mind—the cold, damp walls, the smell of mold and filth, the constant darkness. She had thought she would never see this place again, and now it loomed before her like a gaping maw.

“No!” she screamed, struggling against the warriors who held her. “No! I can’t go back in there! Please, Killian, don’t do this!”

But her cries fell on deaf ears. Killian yanked open the heavy iron door, the sound of metal scraping against stone sending a shiver down her spine. He dragged her inside, the darkness swallowing them whole, and she felt her knees weaken as the memories came rushing back—memories of pain, of fear, of being utterly alone in the dark.

The smell hit her first—damp earth, mold, and the faint, acrid scent of dried blood. She gagged, her stomach twisting with nausea and terror. Her body began to tremble uncontrollably, her breaths coming in short, ragged bursts. She knew she was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack, but she couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t control the fear that was consuming her.

Killian dragged her to a familiar corner of the dungeon and threw her to the ground. Her body hit the cold stone floor with a painful thud, and she winced, curling up instinctively. “Welcome back to your home, Amara,” he said, his voice dripping with venom. “Get comfortable. You’re going to be here for a while.”

Amara tried to steady her breathing, but it was no use. The darkness was closing in around her, pressing against her chest like a heavy weight. She could barely see, but the flickering torchlight on the walls cast long, menacing shadows that seemed to move and shift. Her heart raced, her skin cold with sweat.

Killian crouched down beside her, his face inches from hers, his eyes gleaming with malice. “Look at you,” he said softly, his voice almost a purr. “Pathetic. Just like the first time you were here. But don’t worry—I’ve got plans for you, Amara. Big plans. And I promise, I’ll make you suffer for what you did.”

Amara whimpered, unable to form words, unable to breathe. She felt like she was drowning, suffocating in her own panic. She wanted to fight back, to scream, to do anything, but her body was frozen, locked in place by sheer terror.

Killian stood up, his smile widening as he saw the fear in her eyes. “I’ll let you stew for a bit,” he said, turning away. “But don’t get too comfortable. I’ll be back soon, and then the real fun begins.”

He left her there, the heavy iron door slamming shut behind him with a deafening crash that echoed through the dungeon. The sound reverberated off the stone walls, a final, crushing reminder of her captivity.

The moment Killian left, Amara’s panic intensified. She was alone in the dark, the memories of her past abuse crashing over her like relentless waves. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The walls seemed to close in on her, the darkness pressing down like a physical force.

She could see it all so clearly—the times Killian would come in, his eyes cold and dead, bringing nothing but pain and torment. She remembered the beatings, the isolation, the way he’d taunted her, broken her spirit day by day. She could almost feel his hands on her again, hear his cruel laughter echoing in her ears.

“Please, no,” she whispered, rocking back and forth, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. “Please, not again… I can’t do this again…”

Her breath came in short, ragged gasps, her chest tightening painfully. She felt like she was drowning, like the air was being sucked out of the room. She tried to focus on something—anything—to pull herself out of the panic, but all she could think about was how alone she was, trapped in this nightmare with no way out.

And then, in the midst of her panic, another thought pierced through the chaos, cutting her even deeper than the fear: Darius. He had promised to protect her, to stand by her side, but when it came down to it, he had let her go. He had let Killian take her.

He betrayed me, she thought bitterly, her tears flowing freely now. He didn’t keep his promise. He didn’t fight for me.

She had started to fall in love with him, had started to believe that maybe she could have a future with him—safe, loved, free from this nightmare.

But he had let her down. He had let her be dragged back to the very place she had fought so hard to escape.

Her breath hitched, her sobs wracking her body. She was back in the darkness, back in the place where she had been so thoroughly broken. She had no more strength to fight. She felt like she was drowning in despair, her hope slipping away like sand through her fingers.

This is it, she thought, her mind a fog of fear and grief. I’m going to die here. He’s going to kill me, and I’m going to die alone in the dark.

She couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop the tears that burned her cheeks. She curled up into a ball on the cold, hard floor, her body wracked with tremors. She didn’t know how much time had passed—minutes, hours—it all blurred together in her panic. She only knew the darkness, the terror, and the crushing weight of betrayal.

She had no idea what was going to happen next. All she knew was that she was alone, trapped, and no one was coming to save her.