Captive of The Beast Alpha: Drugging the CEO Was a Mistake.-Chapter 36: Naya: The beast unleashed.

For the entire day, I was confined to my room.

Elon had handed me over to the housekeeper, who took me to a beautiful room and asked me to feel at home. I sat by the window, staring out at the lovely courtyard scenery as people went about their lives.

Everything about this place was mesmerising.

Elon later came two hours after that, with a mischievous smile on his face, to apologise for his father’s stiffness and asked me to be patient right now because everyone was busy dealing with Hansel’s condition.

When I asked him if Hansel was fine, he gave me another vague reply, asking me not to worry and to trust the pack healers.

"Just stay in the room for now, okay?" he’d said with an apologetic smile. "I’ll come check on you later."

That had been four hours ago.

I’d spent the first few hours staring out the window at the incredible landscape—the forests and mountains that stretched as far as I could see, the gardens below that seemed to blend seamlessly with the wild woods beyond. I’d tried to distract myself by examining the room.

But eventually, the waiting became unbearable. I needed to know if Hansel was okay. If he was even still alive. The not-knowing was driving me crazy, making my chest tight with anxiety.

I decided to take a walk around the property. Surely, even that wouldn’t be forbidden right?

But when I walked to the door and tried to open it, it wouldn’t turn.

After several trials, I discovered I’d been locked in.

I panicked immediately, twisting the handle harder, yanking it, pounding on the door with my fists.

"Hello? Is anyone there? The door is locked! I can’t get out!"

There was no response, just silence from the hallway outside.

I kept trying for what felt like forever. I was knocking, calling out, even kicking the door in frustration, but nobody came. Eventually, exhausted and scared, I sank onto the bed and just... waited.

Was I a prisoner here? Had this all been Hansel’s plan to punish me for trying to poison him? To lock me up in some remote location where nobody would ever find me?

No. That was crazy. He’d been genuinely unconscious and dying. That part was real, at least.

But then why was I locked in?

It was almost sunset when I finally heard the lock click and the door swung open to reveal Elon standing there with an awkward grin on his face.

"Hey! Sorry about that. The domestic staff mentioned you’d been knocking?" He said it like a question, like he wasn’t sure if I had actually been trapped or if I’d just been confused about how the door worked.

"The door was locked," I said flatly, "from the outside, and I couldn’t get out."

"Oh." He had the grace to look embarrassed. "Yeah, uh, that’s protocol. When we have human guests during... difficult times... we restrict certain areas. For safety reasons."

"Safety," I repeated, wondering why by being ’human’ was a problem. I wanted to voice out my displeasure, but decided not to. "Right. Well, I’d like to go home now."

Elon’s smiled faltered. "It’s late and dinner is ready. Everyone’s waiting for you. You can’t leave on an empty stomach besides, the last flight back to the city doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning."

I wanted to argue and demand he take me back to the airstrip right now. But the truth was I was exhausted and hungry and had nowhere else to go even if I did leave.

So I followed him downstairs, trying not to show the panic that was building in my chest with every step.

The dining room was practically a big hall with a long table that could easily seat fifty people. And it was filled almost entirely with boys and men of various ages, all of them sharing that same distinctive Ward family look. Dark hair (though some were lighter like Elon’s), sharp features and grey eyes.

Adam Ward sat at the head of the table, his expression as cold and unwelcoming as it had been when I’d arrived.

Every single person turned to stare at me when I entered. The silence was oppressive, like I’d walked into a funeral instead of a family dinner.

Elon pulled out a chair for me about halfway down the table, and I sat down, my skin prickling with discomfort under all those staring eyes. Should I apologize for keeping them waiting? Thank them for having me? Say something to break this awful silence?

Elon took the seat next to me, and the moment he sat down, everyone simply started eating. There was no prayer, no announcement, or conversation. Just the sound of silverware against plates.

For the next twenty minutes, I felt like I was on death row waiting for execution.

For such a large family—I counted at least thirty people at this table—they were eerily quiet. Even the small children seated at a separate table nearby ate in complete silence, their eyes occasionally darting to the adults like they were waiting for permission to speak.

This wasn’t normal. Families talked during dinner.

Even my dysfunctional family had a little laugh here and there whenever we ate.

This felt more like a military mess hall than a home.

I picked at the food in front of me. It was roasted meat and vegetables that tasted amazing but turned to cardboard in my mouth because I was too nervous to actually taste anything—and tried to make myself as small and invisible as possible.

Suddenly, a man burst into the dining room. His eyes were wide with terror, his face was pale and sweat clung to his forehead. He paused for just a second when he saw all of us, then rushed to Adam Ward’s side and leaned down to whisper something.

I watched Adam’s face carefully. For just a second—barely a heartbeat—fear flickered across his expression before he stood abruptly from his chair and followed the man out of the room at a near run.

What was that about? What could make a man like Adam Ward look scared?

"You must be Naya, right?"