Mated to Alpha's Uncle

CLAIRE'S POV

Lily had been killed by Ethan the Alpha.

When I stepped into the castle carrying a tray, her body was right there on the floor before me. Blood pooled around her, flowing until it reached my feet.

Her beautiful blue eyes, now clouded over, stared lifelessly at me.

She’d been here for less than a week, and now she was dead. That meant Ethan would soon need someone else to kill.

Everything seemed to be accelerating lately—even the deaths.

At this rate, was it only a matter of time before my turn came?

My breath caught.

On the sofa, the murderer lounged lazily, holding a wine glass. The transparent glass sparkled under the light as he swirled the liquid inside and took a slow, deliberate sip.

His eyes narrowed, savoring the taste, and his lips curled into a cruel, detached smile.

My heartbeat thundered in my chest. I forced myself to take a deep breath, trying to stay calm.

Gripping the tray tightly, I steadied my hands, careful not to spill the tea. A mistake as small as that could cost me my life.

I placed the tray on the table in front of him, bowed my head respectfully, and prepared to leave.

But as I turned to retreat, Ethan’s voice stopped me.

“Claire, come here and taste this.”

His words drifted lightly toward me, but they landed like a crushing weight.

He wasn’t letting me go. Was today the day I was going to die?

Fear spread like ice down my spine, squeezing my throat as if an invisible hand was choking me. My legs trembled uncontrollably.

Despite living in darkness for so long now, I still didn’t want to die.

Three months ago, I was forced to come to the Blood Moon Pack as a lowly servant for Ethan. My pack had been destroyed, and I’d lost my memory. My wolf was gone, and I didn’t know what horrors had led me here. All I knew was that my life hung by a thread.

Ethan was the Alpha of Blood Moon Pack.

For those of us who had been reduced to low-ranking Omegas after our packs were defeated, he was nothing short of a devil.

God, I’d been here for so long, and I still didn’t even know why people were being killed. Maybe he was in a bad mood? Maybe he was bored?

Sometimes, he’d pick a few “lucky ones” to lock in the dungeon for bizarre experiments. They’d be injected with drugs, their bodies altered into grotesque monstrosities.

Other times, he’d simply kill them outright.

Now, I knew there was no escaping.

Even though every fiber of my being screamed for me to stop, I had no choice but to approach Ethan.

The rules here were simple: obey him or die.

Ironically, death seemed to be the only way to leave this castle.

But I wasn’t ready to die—not yet. As long as I was alive, there was always a chance, no matter how slim.

I kept my head down, staring at the hem of my black dress. The fabric rustled softly with each step.

When I was just a few paces away, Ethan’s patience snapped.

He yanked me forward by my hair, dragging me closer.

“Why the hell are you so slow?” he snarled, his deep brown eyes glowing with a dangerous crimson hue.

The force of his pull sent me sprawling, my leg slamming painfully into the table’s edge. The sharp sting shot through me, and I could already imagine the bruise that would bloom by tomorrow.

In the golden light, his face appeared almost sickly pale, except for his lips, which were stained red from the alcohol, giving him a cruel, almost otherworldly beauty.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded.

I obeyed, parting my lips.

He poured the contents of his glass into my mouth.

It was hot, sickly sweet, and metallic—a taste that made me want to gag instantly.

No, this wasn’t wine.

It was blood.

“Lily’s blood. Sweet, isn’t it?” Ethan chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming brighter with amusement as he watched my reaction.

A wave of nausea and terror crashed over me. My stomach churned violently, my throat burned as if set ablaze, and tears streamed uncontrollably down my face.

“Swallow it, or I’ll kill you,” he threatened coldly.

I had no choice.

The blood slid down my throat, scorching every nerve in its path. The humiliation and suffocating dread tore at me until I felt like I was breaking apart.

Ethan laughed, clearly entertained.

“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you look when you’re scared? Like a delicious little strawberry cake.”

He gripped my face with icy fingers, leaning closer. Then, he licked the tears off my cheek.

The warm, damp sensation, mixed with the metallic tang of blood, pushed my fear and disgust to their breaking point.

My strength drained away. I collapsed to the floor, trembling.

“My uncle’s coming tonight,” Ethan said with a smirk. “I expect a full-course dinner ready by six. If you mess it up, I’ll gladly turn you into a pretty little doll.”

Six o’clock. Less than two hours.

I stumbled out of the room and into the servants’ restroom, collapsing by the toilet.

My stomach twisted violently, and I vomited everything—the blood, the bile, and whatever remnants of my sanity I had left.

I splashed cold water into my mouth, trying to wash away the taste, but the metallic tang seemed to have seeped into my soul.

I was going to die.

But there wasn’t time to wallow in fear. I had to start preparing dinner immediately.

Lily was gone, and now, the entire kitchen workload fell on me.

I became a whirlwind of motion, throwing seafood into boiling water, grilling lamb chops that sizzled and spat oil onto my skin, and chopping vegetables for salads and sides. Every task felt like a race against time.

The lamb chops seared under the heat, and I, like them, was trapped in the searing flames of fate.

I had no plan for what came next.

Because Ethan’s uncle, Kane, was even worse than him.

At 28, Kane had single-handedly conquered six packs, including my own, Fire Stone Pack.

He and Ethan were close.

If Ethan was already pushing me to the brink, Kane’s arrival would surely tip me over the edge.

All I could do was pray.

God, just let me survive tonight.

By 5:54, I was carrying the final dish—seafood soup—to the dining room. My body relaxed slightly.

I was going to make it.

But then, I turned a corner and collided with someone.

The soup spilled, scalding liquid pouring down my arms and chest. The pain was excruciating, like fire licking at my skin. I screamed.

But worse than the pain was the realization—I had failed. Ethan would kill me.

“Are you all right?”

A deep, resonant voice, smooth like a cello, came from above me.

I looked up and froze.

Towering over me was a man with piercing gray eyes, cold as frost. His chiseled, handsome face was sharp and unyielding, exuding an aura far more dangerous than Ethan’s.

Kane.

In that moment, the terror of death eclipsed the pain.

My body trembled uncontrollably, my vision swam, and the world around me darkened.

The soup was ruined. The meal was ruined.

And I had run straight into Kane.

I was as good as dead.