Enslaved To The Alphas-Chapter 136: Horror

"Break her concentration, if only for a few seconds. But try for as long as possible. I’ll try and slip through and return before she realises the trap."

A distraction to disrupt her concentration? Lance’s eyes flicked toward the waitress standing near the counter. She was young, barely in her twenties, and looked a whole lot nervous. Perfect for his cause. He raised his hand slightly, catching her attention.

She hurried over, notebook in hand, but Lance waved it away. "No need for that," he said casually, sliding a few gold coins and a folded note across the table. "Bring another round of drinks. Cold juice will do. And..." He explained what the woman needed to do.

The waitress blinked in confusion for a moment but then caught sight of the generous tip tucked under the note. Her eyes widened slightly. "Of course, sir," she whispered, nodding before she straightened and hurried away.

Lance leaned back in his chair, arms folded, watching the witch from beneath his lashes. She still hadn’t looked up, still lost in thought. What was she waiting for here?

"Don’t worry. We’ll know soon enough. I’m ready," came his brother’s voice.

Lance didn’t answer.. He only drummed his fingers against the table, his gaze locked on the witch as if he were just bored with waiting.

A few minutes later, the waitress appeared again, balancing a tray of glistening glasses filled with juice. She moved carefully through the narrow space between tables, murmuring polite apologies as she passed. The witch barely noticed her, still focused on whatever invisible spell she was maintaining.

Then, just as she neared the table, the waitress stumbled.

The tray tilted sharply, and before anyone could react, a rush of cold liquid spilled forward, splashing across the witch’s clothes and the tablecloth. The sound of clattering glass drew startled gasps from nearby customers.

"Oh! I’m so, so sorry!" the waitress cried, eyes wide with panic as she grabbed a napkin and began frantically dabbing at the witch’s clothes with her dirty cleaning cloth.

The witch shot to her feet with a sharp hiss, her concentration broken and even as she snapped, "Watch where you’re going, you foolish girl!" she snapped, Kael was already moving forward and slipping in.

He felt his brother move instantly. The pressure inside his skull spiked as Kael slipped through the opening. Lance’s breath caught; his hands gripped the table’s edge. Through their link, he sensed Kael weaving past the layers of warded thought, darting between barriers that were momentarily fractured by the witch’s shock.

Across the table, the witch still looked furious as she tried to get rid of the waitress but the waitress continued her frantic apologies, making a scene loud enough that there was no way the witch could return to concentrating yet.

Then, as quickly as it began, Kael pulled back. The pressure lifted, leaving Lance slightly dizzy. He blinked hard, feeling the ache of strain at the back of his head and just as he was about to question why Kael had broken the connection already, Kael’s voice came through the link, filled with urgency.

"Lance... she lied."

Lance froze.

"She lied about everything. What information Emira has is not true. This witch... she had doubts that Emira would try to escape—so she made sure she wouldn’t attempt it. She purposely mentioned keeping her pure until they reached the Ruins so that Emira would have a false sense of security.

But she’s been giving her something, a slow-acting drug. It’s not poison which will erode her mind, bit by bit. By the time they reach the Ruins, Emira won’t remember who she is."

Lance’s stomach turned cold. What do you mean—?

She’s preparing her, Kael continued, fury bleeding into his tone. When her ’master’ arrives tomorrow, he means to claim her. Instead of waiting to take Emira to the ruins. It seems there is some blood in Emira which is necessary for the ’master’. So, she is preparing Emira. When he does, Emira will be pliant and willing to believe that the man is her mate.

For a heartbeat, Lance couldn’t move. He sat completely still, staring at the witch, the blood in his veins roaring in his ears. He had known witches could be cruel, manipulative-but this? This was something else.

He clenched his jaw, forcing his voice to steady. You’re sure of this?

I saw it myself. The thought and planning is buried deep, wrapped in fear and obedience. In fact, she is not supposed to be thinking this at all. The only reason this thought his high in her mind is because she is jealous that the master wants to claim Emira while never touching her, even though she has served the ’master’ for a really long time.

The words hit Lance like a blow. His fingers curled into fists against his knees. Dam* it! He should have taken the chance when he had it! Now, getting her out of there was even more urgent and difficult

Across from him, the witch was muttering something to the waitress and finally getting rid of her. She didn’t notice the Lance at all.

You have to get her out of there, Kael said suddenly, Now, before it’s too late. The drug won’t take full effect for another day or two, but once it does, not even I could restore her memories.

Lance took a slow breath, forcing the tension out of his shoulders. Outwardly, he looked composed again, even amused as if the entire incident with the spilt drink had been a mere inconvenience. But his thoughts were razor sharp.

I’ll get her out, he said firmly. Tonight, if I can.

Kael didn’t respond right away, but Lance could feel the worry pulsing faintly through their link. Finally, Kael whispered, "Be careful. That witch isn’t ordinary. There was more information there but I could not get through... I’ll try and help you tonight..."

Lance nodded and finally broke the connection as he stood up and left. He needed to make some preparations.