Mute Mate: The Alpha's Obsession-Chapter 71: Silent Torment

Ariana’s head began to spin. What just happened?

Her body halted as she felt Zavren’s dark, intense eyes shift downward, staring at her through the gap between his fingers. His jaw clenched as he threw the arrow to the side. Before Ariana knew it, he removed his palm from her face and scooped her into his arms. Worry flashed across Ariana’s face—what was that? How had it happened? She tried to think, but at this point, she couldn’t wrap her head around it.

Had they targeted her first because she had originally been on Zavren’s lap?

Her lips pressed together. How did Zavren sense it?

It was like he knew this would happen before the person struck.

Her thoughts were cut short as she heard his deep voice.

"Shut your eyes," his commanding voice rang out, leaving no room for hesitation.

Ariana immediately closed her eyes. The danger in his voice didn’t even allow her to wonder why he had asked that. His eyes blazed seriously, his jaw ticking, and before Ariana knew it, wind slapped her face. Her lips pressed tightly, as if that would help keep her eyes shut.

They were moving fast—like he was using some kind of unknown speed.

She felt him leap.

Her mouth opened in shock as she felt it—he was moving at speed again. But how? How could he move at such speed when he hadn’t even shifted into his werewolf form? Just how?

That was impossible.

Was that why he said she should shut her eyes?

Her mouth remained open, no longer from fear alone but from the mixed feelings welling up in her chest. Now, it was the sharp wind hitting her tongue that made it cold and felt amazing.

Curiosity began to get the better of her. She needed to distract herself so she wouldn’t peek. Knowing Zavren, the way he had commanded her to shut her eyes meant he was not joking. And that look... that bone-chilling gaze—he rarely held it. Was he not telling her something? But her curiosity...

She really needed to distract herself—anything to distract herself. Anything. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

"Twinkle... Twinkle little moon, how precious you are ooo..." she sang in her head, mixing the tone. It was the perfect distraction. She kept singing in her mind despite the thudding of her chest at what had happened moments ago.

And before she knew it, Zavren stopped.

There was a brief silence, and then she heard him speak calmly.

"You can open them."

She opened her eyes slowly, realizing they were now in their room. Her gaze turned to him, but his face was calm, as always. Ariana wondered if this man was normal. In fact, if anyone saw him, they would never think something like that had just happened.

She felt him move her gently toward the bed. He pulled one hand away and, with one swift motion, carried her with one hand and removed her cover shoes—night shoes—before gently laying her down. Panic flickered in her eyes as he covered her gently, tucking her in well.

’W... where was he going?’ she wondered, her face shifting toward his.

"I will be leaving. No matter what happens, do not leave this room. Is that—" his words trailed off as he noticed her pleading gaze. It seemed she didn’t want him to leave. But he needed to settle something. His jaw ticked slightly.

"I will stay with you till you sleep. Then I’ll leave," he spoke calmly, and she nodded, though worry still crept in.

Who had shot that arrow?

Different thoughts flashed through her head as she tried to piece things together. But nothing seemed to connect.

Was she being selfish right now? It seemed he really needed to settle this matter urgently... and yet, here he was, still by her side.

He gently moved as he lay down beside her, pulling her gently into his arms. One hand patted her hair backward soothingly, and Ariana didn’t know if she should be happy or not. She didn’t want to fall asleep. She knew that once she did, he would leave. And right now, this—this thing he was doing—was not what she had expected at all.

This man really was something.

And she would be lying if she said it didn’t sweeten her.

Her eyes began to flutter open and close, trying to fight sleep, but it kept knocking. Zavren, who noticed this, let his lips nestle slightly. This wife of his... even stubborn when it comes to sleep.

Minutes passed. Just as Zavren gently removed his hand to tuck her in well, her eyes opened.

He quickly moved his hand back to her hair, caressing it. Her eyes closed again.

A very low chuckle escaped his lips.

The way she had opened her eyes... What made it funny was that she was actually asleep—like she had realized something was missing in her sleep.

More minutes passed, and now that she was in a deep sleep, he gently pulled away.

He tucked her in well, gently pushing some strands of her hair behind her ear.

He stood, his expression darkening as he walked out of the room. Silently, he shut the door, his face now neutral as he walked gracefully deeper into the hallway. He stopped as the path led to an underground chamber. He walked down the staircase. After several steps, he finally reached the place. The orderly candles lit in each section gave the area an eerie feeling. Skulls were on each side—fresh, considering the place was usually cleaned.

He walked further, and there stood Raven, positioned in front of the dungeon gate, his expression neutral.

Noticing a presence, Raven turned and bowed respectfully.

"Your Highness, he is here," he said.

Zavren said nothing, his expression so calm and unbothered that even Raven wondered what was going through his mind. Zavren moved and stood at the dungeon gate, his eyes fixed on the man inside.

His eyes glinted deadly, and his lips curled upwards. His gaze flickered to Raven before settling boredly on the man—bare-chested, though still wearing pants, his hands tied with metal that tightened the more he moved, causing sharp needles to pierce his skin. His back dripped with blood, unable to rest against the wall because of the needles placed there. Bruised and with his hands tied above, his legs hung loosely in the air, and he seemed to be enduring slow-burning pain.

"Open it," Zavren ordered.

Raven bowed quickly, knowing full well Zavren had been interrupted during his time with his wife.

Zavren stepped inside, stopping in front of the man. He scanned his face.

The man raised his head, wanting to take a glimpse.

The man’s body stiffened. He had made a mistake—he stared directly into Zavren’s eyes. It was like his body had turned numb. Then, it began to burn from within, as if fire had been lit inside his organs.

"Arrghh!" the man’s lips parted in pain, and what was worse—he struggled to pull his gaze away, but he couldn’t control it.

T..This man... what powers did he have? An Alpha did not possess such power. Yes, they were strong, but the energy emitted from this Alpha was different. The man’s face squeezed in agony as his heart clenched—literally—and still, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Zavren’s blazing red gaze. It was like his gaze held him in place.

Tears began to fall from his eyes as they burned uncontrollably due to the intensity of Zavren’s gaze. His eyes widened as blood rolled down his cheeks—he was crying blood.

H... how?

An inhuman scream ripped from his throat. He could not believe the King had not even touched him, yet he was already feeling this hellish, abnormal pain.

"This is the dumbest plan I’ve seen from Vrazen so far, is it..." Zavren’s dark voice rang in a low, haunting tone as the redness of his eyes deepened. He added, "This is just the one I can recall."

He shifted his gaze, and just as he did, the man’s head dropped, his body collapsing in momentary relief. His organs finally releasing, he began to breathe hard. Smoke slipped from his mouth, and his body trembled in fear. The unbeatable pain still lingered. His face was written with shock.

His internal organs had been burning—smoke now leaving his mouth and nostrils. His body became hotter, and the metal tied to his hands intensified the burning on his wrists. The sweat and blood made the sensation even worse.

"You wanted my blood... and decided to target me with what? An arrow?" Zavren said, his lips widening predatorily.

"Tsk..What an insult."

He chuckled haughtily as he moved. He grabbed a fire stick from the cell—the one used to create light—and stepped closer.

"This is interesting... but do you know what’s more interesting?" he asked as he scanned the man, whose head was lowered—too afraid to look up.

"Answer me," Zavren deadpanned.

The man shook his head.

"N-No... Y-Your Highness," he stammered.

Zavren’s eyes glinted wickedly.

"When my time with my gorgeous wife is interrupted," he said coldly, walking closer to the man.

"I feel surprisingly kind today," he added, moving the fire stick toward the man’s hair.

His smile widened—skull-chillingly—as he tilted his head to the side.

"How about we give you a little glow-up?"

Then he pressed the burning fire stick against the man’s head.

"AHHHHH!"

The scream tore from the man’s throat once more, choked with agony as his hair began to burn, piercing through his skull. The heat intensified, and Zavren walked toward the corner, grabbed something in a cup, and walked nonchalantly toward the man as he calmly sprinkled coal over the flames like he was adding ingredients to a meal.

The man’s body convulsed in unbearable pain. As he groaned, he was so weak that he could not even shout again—the pain had made him numb.

Zavren turned, beginning to walk away, but stopped.

Another scream tore from the man’s lips as his back pressed to the burning needles. The man tried to remain calm, but this—this was worse than any torture he’d known. He had seen monsters, but this man... this King... was something entirely different—the calmness.

"Keep some brain cells," Zavren said, his voice low as his lips widened in a sinister grin, "we’ll be needing them later."

He glanced back at the man, nonchalantly.

"That’s what we call a hot glow-up, don’t you think?"

Raven nodded immediately.

Zavren waved his hand dismissively as his lips curled upwards.

"Go on, Vrazen. Bring more of them. I see you’ve got plenty of men to spare."

He turned and ascended the stairs.

"A cheerful giver," he murmured darkly.

But then... his steps slowed.

His eyes dropped to his hand—the same one he had used to grab that arrow.

It was turning darker.

He had been poisoned.

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