Mated To The Mafia Werewolves

At noon, Sandro’s wrists were cuffed, and a key locked them in place. Four of Ezra’s most brutal guards escorted him to the execution site.

One of the guards taunted him with a kick to the back, “You’re supposed to be the strongest Alpha, right? Prove it. Get out of those cuffs and save yourself and your men.” He sneered as he spoke.

Another guard joined in, throwing his head back in laughter, “The strongest? Don’t make me laugh. Soon enough, Ezra will be the only Alpha, and you’ll be nothing.”

The rest of the guards snickered at his words.

Sandro remained quiet, trudging forward without acknowledging their insults. He ignored the kicks and slaps to his bare back and focused on staying upright, refusing to fall to his weakened knees. He knew that falling would show weakness, and he refused to give up until his last breath.

After a short walk, they entered another section of the hideout. The atmosphere immediately shifted, and the air grew tense. They stopped a few steps inside, and two men gripped Sandro’s arms tightly, despite the fact that he was already handcuffed.

The room was large, but the only light came from a window, leaving some areas dark and gloomy. The space was empty except for a large black curtain that partitioned a reserved area of the room. The walls and floors were stained with dried blood and human remains, emitting a repulsive odour. It was an execution ground, and it lived up to its name.

As soon as Sandro was brought in, the rhythmic sound of footsteps began to approach them. The footsteps originated from the darkened part of the room, and they echoed slowly and deliberately in the silent room.

“The countdown to your final moments has begun, Sandro.” Ezra’s voice echoed through the room as he stepped into the partially illuminated area, his figure shrouded in shadows.

Sandro sneered at the sound of Ezra’s voice, clenching his fists tightly. He longed to break free from the handcuffs and wipe that smug grin off Ezra’s face as he walked closer.

“I won’t go down without a fight,” Sandro spat through gritted teeth. But his confident defiance in the face of death only amused Ezra, who erupted in laughter.

“There’s nothing you can do now, Sandro. I have the upper hand, and I will use it to subdue you. I will relish killing you and taking my place at the top. Right now, you’re nothing but a weakling, a powerless weakling that I will crush beneath my feet,” Ezra declared, his chin jutting upward in arrogance as his smirk returned.

Sandro’s face turned red, and veins bulged on the side of his forehead. “Never. I won’t let you have your way, Ezra. Never,” he seethed.

Ezra stood in front of Sandro and scoffed. He took a step forward, halting inches away from him. Despite the fury in Sandro’s eyes, Ezra remained unmoved. Each step he took had been calculated to ensure that Sandro was as powerless as a fly trapped in a spider’s web.

“How are you going to escape? Those handcuffs aren’t ordinary; the same enchantment that was done on the chains was also done on them. You’re helpless, Sandro,” Ezra said, his voice cold and firm.

Ezra closed the gap between them and whispered into Sandro’s ear, “I won.”

Sandro growled in Ezra’s face and thrashed his arms, attempting to break free from the guards’ grip and the shackles, but to no avail. Ezra laughed, savouring the sweet taste of victory.

“Shouting and struggling won’t help you, Sandro. Your fate, and that of your pack, should be your main concern now,” Ezra said.

The truth of Ezra’s words sank in, and Sandro’s anger dissipated. He hadn’t even thought about the other members of his pack. His body stilled, and his growls ceased.

A pang of pain gripped Sandro’s heart as he remembered Thalia’s death. He hadn’t seen her body where she fell when he regained consciousness.

“Where are my pack members? What have you done with them?” Sandro’s nostrils flared, and he heaved heavy breaths.

Ezra chuckled. “Oh, now you care?”

He signalled for two guards to step forward. “You, go get the executioner. You, show Sandro his people.”

The guards nodded and went to their assigned tasks. One guard headed towards the dark corner of the room, while the other approached a black drape. He drew the curtain rope, and the drape opened to reveal Sandro’s pack members.

Sandro’s eyes widened in terror as he saw the magnitude of injuries inflicted upon them. Their bodies were covered in blood, and gory wounds marked every inch of their skin. Some were tied up, and the stronger ones were chained with enchanted chains.

“You cruel bastard. They didn’t do anything to you! Why did you do this to them?” Sandro fired at Ezra as the guard tugged on the curtain rope again, covering up the pack members.

Sandro had many questions to ask, like where was Thalia’s body and where were the rest of his pack members.

“No, keep it open. They should be privileged to watch their leader die,” Ezra ignored Sandro and instructed the guard. He nodded and did as he was told.

“Alpha Allesandro, please don’t give up easily. Our lives depend on you!” A woman’s voice screamed at the top of her lungs, bursting into tears afterwards.NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

“Shut up, woman. If anyone else dares to speak, you’ll be killed immediately,” the guard warned, raising his hand in a threatening gesture.

The woman instantly swallowed her cries.

Sandro knew that their lives depended on him. He braced himself to fight for his life and theirs. He had to give Ezra a taste of his own medicine and avenge Thalia’s death.

Just then, the guard sent to fetch the executioner returned, carrying a large knife that resembled a miniature sword. It was a sabre, curved and adorned with various mini blades on its steel surface, setting it apart from regular knives.

Ezra was handed the weapon, and the man took his position behind Sandro once again. Ezra held the knife in his hand, studying it with satisfaction. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, but it vanished as he turned his attention to Sandro.

His face twisted into a menacing scowl. “With this knife, I’ll slice into your flesh and make you suffer. Slowly and painfully, piece by piece, I’ll carve up your body and extract each of your organs, feeding them to the dogs.” Ezra’s voice dripped with malice, punctuated by a maniacal laugh. “Sandro, your death will be excruciating.”