His Unwanted Gamma novel Chapter 162

Chapter 162

Elara’s POV

“Please… stop,” I whispered, barely able to form the words through the cloth stuffed in my mouth. But Miela wasn’t listening. She wanted my silence, my suffering, to be her victory.

Two soldiers held me tight, their grip like iron. The whip cut through the air, its cruel sting landing against my skin. Over and over, it cracked, leaving raw, bleeding lines across my back. Each strike sent waves of pain crashing over me, yet I stayed silent.

I refused to scream.

I wouldn’t give Miela the satisfaction of hearing me suffer.

Blood trickled from my wounds, staining the white carpet beneath me. The pain was unbearable, but I held it in. I would not be broken. Not tonight.

The sound of the whip slicing the air stopped momentarily as Wendy’s voice broke through, her whisper shaky. “My Queen, perhaps we

should stop… Master Thorne said… no permanent wounds.”

Miela scoffed, the sound dripping with contempt. “It’s just a couple of lashes, Wendy. What, are you starting to feel sorry for her now?” She

turned toward me with a sneer. “Does she deserve your pity? I don’t think so.”

Wendy recoiled, her voice trembling as she stammered, “No, of course not. She deserves every bit of this.”

Miela grinned. “Good. Let me tell you, what I’m doing now doesn’t even compare to what she did to me.”

She flicked her wrist, tossing the whip aside, and for a moment, I thought the worst was over.

“Besides,” Miela continued, “my hands are getting sore. The King’s coming for dinner tomorrow, and I don’t want to look exhausted. We’ll call

it a night here.”

Wendy let out a quiet breath, relief flooding her features.

“Do you want us to move her?” one of the guards asked, voice flat. “The blood smell… it’s unpleasant.”

Miela’s lips curled into a malicious smile. “No. Leave her here. The smell reminds me of my victory. It’ll help me sleep.”

The guards bowed and exited, leaving me alone with my pain.

I lay on the cold floor, barely able to keep my eyes open. The room spun, my head heavy with exhaustion and blood loss. I couldn’t even tell if I’d passed out or if I had simply drifted into an unconscious haze.

Miela thought she could break me with this. But if there was one thing she underestimated, it was my resolve.

I would survive this. Whatever she did to me, it wouldn’t break me.

I woke to the faint sound of someone moving near me. My neck burned, and when I opened my eyes, I saw Wendy crouched in front of me, fiddling with something on my collar.

The sudden motion made me flinch, and Wendy jerked back, her face pale as though afraid I would lash out.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Miela’s voice sounded from across the room. I turned to find her sitting comfortably on the couch, a cup of tea in her hands, her smile as sweet as ever. “Did you sleep well?”

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15:34 Fri, 8 Aug ( af ©

Chapter 162

I met her gaze, my silence colder than any words I could have spoken.

She giggled, her tone mocking. “I slept just fine, knowing you were curled up by my bedside like some pathetic, injured dog. Oh, and did you like my little present?”

I lifted my hand to my neck and felt the cold, smooth metal against my skin. I narrowed my eyes. “…A collar?”

Her smile widened, more predatory than ever. “Not just any collar, sweetheart. This one has a little surprise inside. A microbomb, to be

exact.”

My heart skipped a beat. My breath hitched in my chest. “What?”

“Let me show you,” Miela said, her eyes glinting with cruel amusement. “Wendy, why don’t you help her up so she can see her new accessory in the mirror?”

Wendy hesitated but moved forward, untangling the ropes that had bound my hands and feet.

Each movement sent sharp, unbearable pain through my body, but I refused to show it. I wasn’t weak, not for her.

I steadied myself on the bedpost, my body shaking with exhaustion, but I didn’t let myself fall. I would not give her that.

I stumbled toward the mirror, feeling every inch of pain from the lashes that still throbbed on my skin.

When I caught sight of myself in the mirror, my bloodied neck was encircled by a silver choker. A small locket dangled from it, locked tight.

I reached for it, but as my fingers brushed the cool surface, Miela’s voice cut through the silence. “Don’t even think about it. You’ll trigger the bomb if you try to open it.”

1 shot her a glare. “Why would you do this?”

Miela leaned back on the couch, a satisfied smile curling at the corners of her mouth. “Why? Because it’s more fun this way. You can move around, pretend you have some freedom, but you’re still mine. And I can trust you’ll behave.”

The smile on her face twisted with malice as she added, “Oh, and don’t bother trying to rip it off. It won’t work.”

I glared at her, keeping my voice steady despite the fear crawling up my spine. “How do I know you’re not bluffing?”

Miela raised an eyebrow. “Want to test it?”

From her pocket, she pulled out a small remote, flashing it in front of me. “I know your wolf’s strong, but even your wolf can’t heal you you’re a bloody mess.”

I stood frozen, every muscle in my body tense.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, I spoke, my voice a whisper, barely audible. “Fine. What do you want?”

Miela clapped her hands together. “Excellent! Come here. I’ve got something fun planned for us.”

I hesitated but moved forward, unable to stop myself.

when

Wendy returned from the closet, carrying a nail polish kit. “I thought we could do each other’s nails,” Miela said, sweetly enough to make me sick. “You know, sister stuff. We never got to do this back at Direstone Pack, did we?”

I almost laughed, but the bitter taste of rage choked the sound back. A manicure. That was it? Something about this didn’t sit right, but I was too wounded to protest.

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