Mellifuous ✔

Chapter 24: Captive

This chapter contains themes of abuse and mistreatment. It depicts events that are deeply upsetting and may be triggering for some readers. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, please feel free to skip this chapter. While it is an integral part of the storyline and helps to understand Eli's trauma, it is intense and heartbreaking. Your well-being comes first.

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The air was thick, damp, and musty, clinging to Eli's skin like a second layer. His body ached, the cold chains biting into his wrists, but his mind was a storm. He couldn't understand what was happening, couldn't make sense of it. Everything had happened so fast. One moment, he was with Grace, tucked safely in the packhouse, and the next... chaos. Screams and rough hands dragging him away. His world had been ripped apart in an instant.

He had been thrown into this place—dark, dank, and empty. No warmth. No comfort. Just the oppressive weight of fear pressing down on him from all sides. His heart was a frantic drumbeat in his chest, each thump louder than the last. His throat was dry, his mouth tasted like ash.

His eyes flicked around the cold stone room, searching for any sign of movement, but it was the shadows that made the most noise, slithering around him, teasing his mind. He could hear faint footsteps echoing from somewhere far off, but the clattering sound of chains kept him tethered to his spot. He pulled at the bonds again, uselessly, like a frightened animal desperate to escape.

A makeshift door creaked open.

The man who entered was tall, broad-shouldered, his face shadowed beneath the hood of a thick cloak. His presence loomed over Eli, a dark silhouette against the faint light seeping through a crack in the stone wall. The man chuckled, a low, guttural sound that scraped against Eli's skin.

"Wasn't the plan to kill the little fucker?" A voice from behind the man growled, deep and hoarse. It belonged to another rogue who stood just outside the door, peering in. His voice was bitter, impatient, but also filled with an unmistakable anger.

The tall man didn't respond immediately. Instead, he took a few steps closer, crouching down so that his face was mere inches from Eli's. His breath smelled like smoke and something rancid. Eli recoiled, his heart pounding as his eyes darted between the stranger's face and the ground.

"No," the man's voice was soft, almost too soft, and it made Eli shiver. "I think I'll keep him for myself. A lifelong little slave." The man's chuckle sent a ripple of terror through Eli's spine. "He'll be perfect. A little young, maybe, but he'll grow up eventually."

Eli's breath caught in his throat. The words didn't make sense, not in his panic-stricken mind. Slave? He tried to make sense of the horrible, twisted idea. The rogue's eyes were predatory, glinting with malice as he leaned in closer, running a cold finger along Eli's cheek, making him flinch back.

"You have no idea what you're in for, pup," the rogue whispered, his voice dripping with an almost sickening sweetness. "You're going to be the last of your kind, you know. And you're mine now."

Eli trembled, the weight of the rogue's words sinking deep into his chest. He was terrified—frozen in place, his eyes wide, blinking back the sting of hot tears threatening to spill over. He wanted to scream, wanted to fight back, but fear had its claws in him, holding him still.

His mind raced, a blur of images and sounds— His dada's gentle care, his papa's warm smile, Grace's voice, Damion's protective stance, the pack's faces, all blurring into one horrible memory. How had they gotten to him? How could something so monstrous be happening to him, to them?

The rogue seemed to enjoy the fear in Eli's eyes. He leaned closer, the stench of alcohol and rot flooding Eli's nostrils as he whispered, "You'll be a pretty little thing when you grow up. I'll break you in slow, make you perfect. Then... you'll be mine to do with as I please."