Chapter 3

His chest heaved violently, and deep, ragged breaths escaped his throat.

The comments flashed instantly:

[What the hell? That's the psycho rogue who kills everyone! Is Alpha Victoria crazy?!]

[Victoria Sterling isn't seriously going to choose this rogue, is she? He looks like he could snap at any second!]

[How can a rogue ever be loyal? Alpha Victoria is playing with fire!]

Ignoring the comments, I slowly squatted down on the other side of the fence.

"Take me with you," he rasped, his voice raw. "My name is Kael. Take me, and my life is yours."

I raised an eyebrow, looking at those untamed yet fiercely burning eyes.

"You want to be my subordinate?"

He nodded frantically, his pupils dilated with heat, his breath hitching.

I stood up and glanced at the stunned owner, calmly uttering two words:

"Deal. Him."

The owner looked troubled. "Alpha Victoria, this rogue... he's a maniac."

"How much?" I cut him off.

"Are... are you sure?"

"I asked you, how much?"

The owner swallowed and named a price.

I didn't even bother negotiating. I simply had the butler write a check.

Once Kael was brought back to the Silver Moon Pack, the first thing I did was order the pack's chief healer to detox him.

To control the fighters, the arena regularly injected them with a custom wolf venom. The doses were small, but highly addictive. Once they went cold turkey, they would lose their minds and attack anyone.

The detox process was brutal.

The venom had been in Kael's system for years, and the withdrawal symptoms were violent.

Locked in the isolation room, his body convulsed. He dug his nails deep into his palms, drawing blood. He was like a trapped beast, letting out suppressed roars, his body arching and collapsing in sheer agony.

Yet, he never called out my name in weakness.

The healer reported to me through the glass, "Alpha Victoria, the withdrawal will last at least three days. He's in extreme pain and might self-harm. Should we administer sedatives?"

I recalled the look in his eyes back in the cage.

"No," I said. "Let him endure it."

And he did.

Three days later, the healer announced the venom was entirely gone. I opened the door and found him curled up in the corner, soaked in sweat, looking exhausted and gaunt.

But the moment he saw me, he literally crawled over.

He knelt at my feet, resting his forehead against my shoe, his voice so raspy it was barely a whisper:

"Alpha Victoria... I didn't make a fool of myself in front of you..."

Those were his very first words.

I had told him at the arena that if I took him, he had to give me his life.

He took it literally.

Less than a week after recovering, I threw him straight into the Silver Moon Pack's elite warrior training camp.

Liam had grown up in the pack, taking three years of step-by-step training to pass the ultimate elite trials.

Kael took only two weeks.

He was like a tireless, pain-immune killing machine, frantically absorbing every skill to kill and survive.

Combat, hunting, counter-surveillance, extreme endurance... he dragged himself through mud and blood.

Every time he fell, the mere mention of my name acted like a shot of adrenaline. He would drag himself back up, shaking, and pin his opponent to the ground.

The comments were filled with doubt and worry:

[He's not a normal werewolf. He's an emotionless killing machine!]

[He used to be a rogue. Who knows when he'll snap? Alpha Victoria is taking too big of a risk!]

[A rogue is always a rogue. The wildness is in their blood. Once Liam heals, he'll show this stray his place!]

[Just wait, this crazy wolf is going to turn on her. Alpha Victoria is gambling with her life.]