Defy The Alpha(s) novel Chapter 508

Chapter 508: One Big Family

"Ahhh!"

The agonized scream split the silence of the secret village in the dead of night. It came from deep inside the large compound at the heart of the settlement, but no one dared to go near.

The rest of the village lay in silence, every door bolted with the curtains drawn tight. Lamps had been snuffed out hours ago, leaving the streets in suffocating darkness and turning the village into something that might be mistaken for a ghost town.

The air was thick with the kind of fear that seeps into your bones, the kind that tells you to stay quiet, stay still, and pretend you heard nothing at all.

"No please, stop, it hurts!"

The man’s voice was hoarse from hours of screaming. But the girl in front of him who couldn’t have been more than fifteen, didn’t so much as blink at his pleas. Instead, she clipped away the last of the finger nail, slow enough for the agony to linger.

His cry of agony regenerated through the room once more, blood streaming down his arms to his inverted face, and dripping onto the stone floor. The man’s body swayed gently from the rope suspending him upside down, each swing sending a fresh wave of pain through the deep slashes and gouges that marred his skin.

The door creaked open at that moment.

"What is taking so long, Hannah?" Commander Ziva—though Hannah would only ever call her that in her head—stepped into the room. She was flanked by the twins, Lauren and Layla, her true-blood sisters. Not half-sisters like the others.

Hannah’s birth had been an experiment. All of them were, in a way, but hers was on purpose—a curiosity project for their lovely father, Angus, obsessed with creating the perfect bloodline. He’d wondered what might happen if he gifted a human with his "esteemed" werewolf DNA. So he’d chosen her mother, a human woman, and bred her into existence.

And here she was. A half-blood, as werewolves tend to call hybrids like her. Offspring of a human and a werewolf, often possessing mixed traits. Except in her case, her werewolf side had been watered down, her mother’s genetics smothering the wolf until it was barely there at all. Thanks to that, it made her the "runt" of the pack.

Unfortunately, in this family, it was survive — or be survived by.

So, as the least useful of all the sisters, Hannah had taken what little skill she had and honed it into a lethal one. She trained herself as an assassin and became the go-to girl when they needed to infiltrate places without magical detection. She had proven her worth, and that made her far from disposable.

"Perhaps her skills are getting rusty. She’s human, after all," Layla, the twin Hannah liked least, said with a mocking laugh.

Hannah’s jaw tightened. "I’m done for now. Was just having a bit of fun with him before you showed up," she replied through gritted teeth, sending Layla a glare sharp enough to cut.

They might share blood, but there was no love in it. The only thing binding them together was the mission ahead and, more importantly, the fear of their father.

"What did you get? Was he working with anyone?" Ziva asked, stepping closer to the prisoner, whose low, pained groans echoed through the room.

"No. He wasn’t," Hannah said without hesitation. "He was only trying to escape the village. Nothing more."

"How can you be so sure? For all we know, he’s lying to you," Layla challenged, her eyes narrowing.

"Really?" Hannah arched a brow and gestured at the man dangling before them. "Be my guest. Do your witchy twin thing." Her voice dripped sarcasm.

Lauren, the more responsible twin, spoke up. "Layla, calm down. Hannah’s good at what she does."

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