Alpha's STOLEN Mate Chapter 98

Elowen

Consciousness returned slowly, dragging me up from murky depths like pulling myself through tar. My head pounded with residual alcohol, my mouth tasted like cotton and regret, and everything was *dark*.

*Where the hell am I?*

I tried to remember—Damien, the car, his promise of an unforgettable night—but everything after getting in his vehicle was fuzzy, disconnected.

*Must be his place. Passed out drunk like an idiot.*

I reached out to stretch, to orient myself in the unfamiliar space—

*CLANG!*

My hand hit metal. Hard, cold, unforgiving metal on all sides.

*What the fuck?*

I stretched my legs and encountered the same resistance. More metal. The space was tiny, cramped, barely large enough to contain my body. And when I shifted my feet, I heard the distinctive rattle of chains—felt the burning sensation of silver against my ankles.

*No. No no no—*

"HELP!" I screamed, my voice echoing off the metal walls. "SOMEONE HELP ME!"

Immediately, dozens of other sounds erupted around me—snarls, howls, the frantic rattling of cages being shaken by desperate occupants.

*I'm not alone. There are others. Many others.*

Bright white light suddenly flooded the space, so intense I had to shield my eyes. When I could finally see again, I wished desperately that I couldn't.

The room was massive—a warehouse-sized space filled with rows upon rows of metal cages. And in each cage, a wolf. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds. Some I recognized with a sickening jolt—members of my own pack who'd gone missing months ago.

But they weren't themselves anymore. Their eyes were vacant, feral, completely devoid of recognition even as they stared directly at me. They threw themselves against the bars with mindless violence, like rabid animals rather than sentient beings.

*God. What did they do to them?*

The sharp click of high heels on concrete cut through the cacophony of caged wolves. The sound alone made them fall instantly, eerily silent—like trained dogs responding to their master's approach.

A woman emerged from the shadows, her posture radiating absolute authority. She wore an elegant black gown that seemed designed for a twisted coronation, but it was her face—or rather, the ornate golden mask covering it—that made my blood run cold.

*The masked witch from the cave. The one who orchestrated everything.*

I pressed myself against the back of my cage, trying futilely to create distance.

"White Wolf!" Her voice was cultured, amused, horrible in its casual confidence. "How delightful to see you again. I am Morgath—and very soon, I will be your new master."

"WHAT THE FUCK?" The words exploded from me. "Master?! Are you insane?!"

Morgath laughed, the sound echoing off the metal cages. "Oh, not yet. But soon. Very soon." She gestured around the warehouse with theatrical flair. "Look at them—my beautiful collection! They're all mine now. Obedient. Perfected. And with you among them?" Her eyes gleamed behind the mask. "Well, others will be lining up to join voluntarily. Including, perhaps, your dear Kaius."

Ice flooded my veins. I reached desperately for my wolf, trying to shift, to break free—

Nothing.

My wolf was there—I could feel her presence—but she was buried under something heavy and oppressive, like she'd been drugged into submission.

"Oh, don't bother struggling," Morgath said with mock sympathy. She crouched down to my eye level, her masked face inches from the bars. "I spent considerable effort suppressing your wolf while you were unconscious. You have no idea how challenging that was! But God, you were worth the wait." Her voice took on an almost reverent quality. "I've been watching you evolve, Elowen. Waiting for you to fully awaken your power. And now that you're magnificent—now that you're *perfect*—you'll make the ideal centerpiece of my collection!"

Horror crashed over me. "You waited? You've been waiting for me to get stronger before—"

"Before capturing you, yes!" She clapped her hands together delightedly. "I even helped accelerate your development! Did you think those enhanced rogues, those near-death experiences, were all coincidence? I was *cultivating* you, dear girl!" Her expression turned calculating. "Though you haven't quite reached your absolute peak potential yet. But I'm impatient, and you're magnificent enough as is."

I wrapped my arms around myself instinctively, feeling violated in a way that went beyond physical. She'd been manipulating my entire life, pushing me toward danger, *using* me as some kind of breeding project—

*No. Focus. Find a way out. There has to be a way—*

But my wolf remained stubbornly dormant, and the silver chains burned against my skin.

Morgath straightened, snapping her fingers. Two of the transformed wolves—my missing pack members, I realized with sick horror—approached with mechanical obedience. They lifted my entire cage effortlessly, carrying me like I weighed nothing.

"Before we begin your transformation," Morgath announced cheerfully, walking alongside my mobile prison, "we need to sever that annoying mate bond. I require purity in my collection—no messy emotional entanglements, no distracting connections to problematic Alpha Kings." Her voice dripped with contempt. "You wolves and your ridiculous bonds. You should embrace what you truly are—beasts! Beautiful, powerful beasts that belong in my menagerie!"

The wolves carried me through a doorway, and I had to bite back a scream.

The operating theater was a nightmare made manifest. Shelves lined the walls, displaying preserved specimens in jars of formaldehyde—wolf organs floating in viscous fluid, vampire fangs arranged in decorative patterns, what looked like fae wings pinned like butterflies. An entire skeleton of something reptilian and massive hung from the ceiling. Surgical instruments covered every surface, many of them glowing with residual magic.

This wasn't a laboratory. It was a trophy room for a monster.

Morgath entered behind me, her heels clicking with measured precision. "Beautiful, isn't it? Each specimen represents a breakthrough in my research."

The wolves set my cage down and opened it. I immediately tried to bolt, but the silver chains around my ankles sent me crashing to the floor. My face hit the concrete hard enough to split my lip, blood filling my mouth.

I didn't care. I scrambled forward on hands and knees, dragging the chains, desperate to reach the door—

Morgath's heel came down on my hand, grinding my fingers against the floor.

"Where do you think you're going, beautiful White Wolf?" She pressed harder, and I felt bones creak under the pressure. "Stop fighting. You've always hated that bond tying you to Kaius, haven't you? I'm doing you a favor!"

Her lackeys grabbed me—those dead-eyed wolves who'd once been my friends—and hauled me onto the operating table. Leather straps clicked into place around my wrists, ankles, throat, rendering me completely immobile.

Morgath selected a scalpel from her collection of instruments. The blade looked ancient, covered in runes that pulsed with malevolent light. She began chanting in a language I didn't recognize, her voice taking on multiple tones simultaneously.

The scalpel's edge began to glow—first red, then purple, then an otherworldly violet that made my eyes water to look at.

As she brought it closer to my chest, something impossible happened. A line appeared in the air above my heart—translucent, shimmering, breathtakingly beautiful. The mate bond, made visible through magic.

*Oh God.*

I stared at it, transfixed. The bond pulsed with life, with memories—Kaius's strength when I was weak, his protection when I was vulnerable, those rare moments of genuine connection before everything went to hell. Despite everything he'd done, despite Rowan and the betrayal and the pain...

*He's still part of me.*

And I didn't want to lose that. Not like this. Not at the hands of this monster.

"No," I whispered. Then louder: "NO!"

I thrashed against the restraints with everything I had. The leather cut into my wrists and ankles, drawing blood. The silver chains burned deeper, leaving blistering wounds. But I didn't stop, couldn't stop—

"Such spirit!" Morgath laughed, pressing the glowing scalpel closer to the visible bond. "But ultimately futile. This will only hurt for a moment, and then you'll be free. Free of him. Free to become what you were always meant to be—*mine*."

The blade descended, its violet edge mere inches from severing the shimmering thread—

The door burst open.

One of Morgath's servants stumbled in, his expression panicked. "Mistress Morgath! We have intruders! Someone's breached the perimeter!"