168 Chapter 168
Betrayed by Blood-
The cell was colder than Avery expected.
She could hear the cries of the prisoners as she walked through the corridor leading to the cells. The ones crying were also the ones Hugh had imprisoned for some flimsy
reason or another.
Avery nodded to the greetings of the guards. She gripped the frame and the box in her hands tighter, forcing herself to breathe. She was nervous and anxious about the
outcome.
She could feel Cain’s presence lingering in her mind even though he wasn’t here. Five
feet.
The guards flanked her as they moved deeper into the corridor, their boots scraping against the floor. Then, she saw him.
Lucian.
His body jerked upright the moment she stepped into view. The chains binding him rattled as he rushed to the bars, gripping them so hard his knuckles turned white. His wild and desperate eyes locked onto her like she was the only thing keeping him sane.
She had heard something over the gaze from Emma but never for once thought it was
like this.
Avery paused for a second, her gaze on him. This is a full–circle moment. She still remembered how she’d pleaded for him to choose her instead of Jasmine, and he just
stood there and told her he was now in love with Jasmine.
“Avery,” his voice was raw and hoarse. “Avery, please—”
Her gaze flickered behind him, and she saw them. Lucian’s mother held his father in her arms, the man looked sicker with every passing breath. It was truly pathetic.
“Avery,” Lucian’s mother croaked out, scrambling forward despite her weakened state. “Oh, Moon, is it really you?”
Avery’s chest tightened, but she didn’t let her emotions show. Instead, she forced
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herself to turn away, ignoring Lucian’s desperate grasp at the bars and his mother’s trembling voice.
She wasn’t here for them.
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Sitting at the far back of the cell was Hugh, watching the debacle of Lucian and his family. He lounged against the wall, his arms stretched along the bench as if he were a king on a throne instead of a prisoner in chains.
Avery met his gaze, and his grin widened.
“Well, well,” Hugh drawled, his voice thick with amusement. “Look who finally found her way back home.”
Avery didn’t respond. She took a step closer, tightening her grip on the box in her
hands.
Hugh’s eyes flickered to it, and for the briefest second, his expression wavered, just enough for Avery to catch it. But then he chuckled, shaking his head.
“What is this? A peace offering?” he taunted. “Or are you here to ask your dear old uncle for advice?”
She inhaled deeply, keeping her voice steady. “Tell me what this is.”
Hugh arched a brow, making no move to stand. “And why should I?”
“I’m not here for your games, uncle. Tell me why you had this buried beneath my father’s office. Why you have my grandmother’s photograph in there and what these are?” She snapped.
Hugh slowly stood, stepping toward the iron bars. “Or what?” His voice dropped, lowly to whisper. “You’ll run crying to your Alpha like the pathetic little pup you are?” He paused, glancing at the box in her hands. “I’m not telling you a thing. I’m not inclined to, and I will frankly love to see you suffer.” He spat out.
Avery’s heart pounded as she stared at Hugh. His smug expression, his condescending smirk. It all infuriated her.
Her fingers clenched around the frame. She took a step forward. “You murdered my parents,” she said, her voice shaking.
Hugh’s smirk didn’t waver. “And?”
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Her breath hitched, her grip tightening on the frame. “The least you can do is tell me what this is about,” she hissed, lifting the box in her hands. “Why do you have this? Why was it hidden?”
Hugh’s eyes flickered downward, but he said nothing.
Avery’s frustration spiked. She took another step, but the guard beside her immediately moved to block her way, his arm outstretched. “Luna, you shouldn’t—”
She snapped her gaze toward him, the coldness in her eyes making him stiffen.
“Get out of my way,” she ordered.
The guard hesitated for a brief moment and then stepped aside.
Avery stormed forward. She slammed the frame against the iron bars, the impact clanging through the dungeon.
Hugh barely flinched, but his eyes, those sharp eyes finally lingered on the photograph
inside.
Avery’s hands trembled. “I want you to look at this,” she demanded. “Look at this picture and tell me why you had it hidden! What is this about? What are all these things written here?”
Avery’s breathing was uneven, her pulse erratic. “Tell me, Hugh!”
But he said nothing.
Then, slowly, so painfully slow… Hugh’s lips curled into something almost sinister.
His gaze lifted from the frame, locking onto hers. And he laughed.
Low and mocking.
Avery’s anger burned through her veins.
“You don’t even know,” Hugh taunted, shaking his head. “You’ve spent your whole life running from the truth, like a blind little fool. You want to know the truth, huh? Then make that lunatic you call a mate leave my pack. Blood–moon is mine and mine only! Set my son free from the place he’s been kept, and only then will I tell you what you’re so desperate to know.”
Avery inhaled sharply. She wasn’t going to get anything out of Hugh. There was no
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point in staying. She clenched her jaw. She had come here for answers, but she could see it now; he wasn’t going to tell her anything.
“Luna, we should go,” one of the guards said, almost like he could sense the way the air around her had started to shift.
Avery nodded curtly. She then glanced at Hugh, her face twisting in disgust. “You’re a pathetic man, Hugh.” She spat out.
Just as she tried to leave, a hand latched onto her wrist.
Hard.
Avery barely had time to react before he yanked her forward. Her breath hitched as Hugh’s fingers dug into her flesh, his knuckles white from the force of it. His head was tilted, but his eyes… his eyes were red. Red like blood.
“You think you’re something, don’t you?” His voice was venomous, seething. His grip tightened. “You’re nothing. You always were. And now you walk around like you belong
here. Like you’re one of them.”
Panic slammed into Avery’s chest.
“Let go.”
Hugh’s grin was a twisted thing. “I should’ve cut you up when I had the chance.”
Her blood ran cold.
“I should’ve killed you alongside your parents. Should’ve gutted you, ripped you open, and fed your insides to the vultures-”
“I said. Let. Me. Go.!” Avery screamed, her voice had doubled, echoing through the dungeon walls. Suddenly she felt a strange energy engulfing her body as she screamed.
For a single, terrifying second, the lights went dark, and suddenly a raw, piercing scream echoed through the walls.
The guards staggered back. One of them stumbled, his face twisted in horror, the man in the cell had been lit on fire. Hugh collapsed, writhing, shrieking.
His skin blistered, blackening under the sheer heat of the fire consuming him.
His arm… the same hand that had grabbed Avery was now reduced to melted, burnt
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flesh.
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Half his face was gone.
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