13: A game of torture

**Warning! Strong violence and gore.**

**Lucien**

The day had been long- longer than I expected it to be, with nothing but disappointment as the by-product. Tristan had done nothing but refuse me all day! It was clear her body was as drawn to mine as mine was to hers- there was nothing quite like that sweet scent of lust from her- but that was where our attraction ended. This was all I could think of as I exited my car and began to walk towards the yard of my new home- a full two-story house with a large yard. The yard was fenced by luscious green hedges which, in the centre, broke apart to make space for a large steel gate. I touched at the cool, smooth surface of the latch, unlocked it and entered the yard. A rough stone path led up to the steps to the white wooden porch which was shaded by a balcony on the second floor.

Once I made it to the door, I unlocked it with the key, gripped the handle and opened it, exposing the gorgeous interior. In the foyer were two curved flights of stairs which led to the second floor and my room. I took the staircase to the left as it was the closest to my room. The room I stayed in was smaller than the one in the home I owned when Jasmine was still staying with me, and the awful orange bedsheets would definitely need to be changed to something softer and less colourful. My suitcase was still packed- a clear indication that I had no idea whether I'd be staying here for long- and the cupboards were bare.

I sank into my sheets and felt the fabric beneath my fingers. Perhaps the only good thing about these sheets were their softness. Slowly I began to shut my eyes and surprisingly, when I did, I didn't think about Jasmine's bright blue eyes. Instead, the colour green swirled around me in soft surreal vapours. And as my mind shifted to Tristan, I couldn't help but recall her scent. It was so strange how she smelled so much like me, but at the same time she smelled so much like herself- soft and yet cold and distant with the sweetness of lilies covering the hollowness she seemed to carry around with herself. But beyond that was something even stranger. The scent of her wolf was something I'd never quite come across before. It didn't have the normal strong earthy scent Alpha wolves were renowned for. Instead, hers was stronger and almost carried the sharp scent of amber. I wondered what type of wolf she was. However, my thoughts of my mate were soon interrupted by the ringing of my cell phone which I'd placed on the wooden bedside table.

Annoyed, I leaned over and checked the caller ID on the screen, and was surprised to see that it was George, one of my 'employees'. He was in charge of organising appointments for my Vixen dominatrices and making sure that they were safe at all times.

"George?" I uttered cautiously.

George panted on the other end of the line before whispering with shaky breaths, "C-come quick sir... w-we have an e-emergency with B-Bethany."

"Wait for me George, I'm on my way." I said into the phone, immediately getting myself off my bed and rushing towards my car in urgency. He only called when he was *really* in trouble.

Bethany was a Vixen of mine who, if I remembered correctly from the email, I'd been sent earlier on by George, was on a job today at an apartment an hour or so away from the pack grounds. However, if I drove fast enough, I could shrink the travel time in half. And if I wanted to find both Bethany and George alive, I could further shrink the time by ten minutes more.

Deciding that it would be best for me to keep my trusted errand boy and precious Vixen, alive, I chose the last option. I sped through every single red light I could, overtook as many vehicles as possible and broke the speed-limit countless times. In a matter of urgent moments, I reached the place Bethany was working at. It was apartment 56 on the second floor of the tall apartment building I stood in front of.

When I arrived, the apartment door was unlocked and so cautiously, I touched at the handle and softly pulled it down before opening the door a little, making sure it was safe to enter. Once a quick glance at the inside revealed no eminent threats, I proceeded. It took a few steps for me to see George bleeding out on the carpeted floor of the sitting room area. Immediately I rushed towards him and began applying pressure on the wound on his side.

"What the hell happened George?" I asked.

"Don't worry, I'll heal. You need to get to the bathroom; he's got Bethany there. She's in big trouble sir." He uttered out and then winced as my hands left his side.

"The bathroom," I said as I began to stand, "where is it?"

George lifted his hand which was now covered in a wet coating of fresh blood, "Over there sir."

I followed the direction he pointed toward and found myself outside the bathroom door. I didn't bother knocking, instead, I kicked at the door, sending it swinging almost off of its hinges. Inside the bathroom was a blonde haired, brown-eyed man who hovered over the bathtub and had his hands in a bath full of water, drowning the red-haired young woman inside of it. When his eyes met mine, they turned extremely hostile, and he let go of Bethany and made a move to punch at me. But I was already fuelled up with rage and anger at seeing this man lay his hands on one of my precious Vixens and so, when his fist attempted to crash into my face, I grabbed, just inches away from my head and began crushing the bones within his hand. He cried out in pure agony, and I tossed him to the side like a pathetic little rag doll. I looked over towards the bathtub and was relieved to see Bethany's head out of the water as she gasped for air and attempted to lift herself out of the slippery tub. I rushed to her side immediately and held a hand out to her which she took shakily. She was freezing. After lifting her up out of the tub, I set her down gently on the floor and took off my warm jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders carefully before rubbing my hands against them.

I glanced quickly towards the man, in the corner. He still clutched at his broken hand in agony as the bones began to heal and I took it as an opportunity to quickly get Bethany out of the room. I picked her up again and began leading her out, towards George who seemed to have begun healing already.

"Keep her warm," I said sternly, "and no matter what you hear, do not enter that bathroom."

The both of them nodded and I began heading back towards the bathroom before entering and shutting the door closed. The werewolf before me didn't cower, much to my surprise, and the more I tried to pick up anything familiar about his scent, the more I realised by the clothes he wore and the way he carried himself, that he was a rogue. It seemed the rumours about them *were* true. But I couldn't just run on an assumption, and so I chose to scare a little bit of information out of him.

"Who are you?" I asked, removing my shirt. It already had my blood on it, I didn't want his filthy fluids staining the fabric.

The rogue stayed silent and began clenching and unclenching the hand that I broke, making sure it was ready to be used again.

"I asked, " I said sternly, running out of patience, "who are you?"

"I could ask the same question. I thought that girl was alone." He said.

And then it struck me- he thought she was a rogue. It seemed I finally had confirmation.

"So, it's true then. The rogues are recruiting others to join them. You know this isn't the first time you homeless mutts have mistaken one of the Vixens as a rogue. This is, however, the first time a rogue has tried to be violent with them."

"Look, my job is to recruit rogues and this one just so happened to be a Vixen, and violently stubborn." He uttered. "Now why don't you tell me who the hell you think you are to come and interrupt me?"

I didn't quite like his tone. In fact, I didn't like *him*. And so, I began to near him threateningly but still, the rogue showed no fear, instead, he charged toward me at full force and then slammed his body into my torso. But I was much stronger and heavier than he was and so I shrugged him off, effortlessly. The next thing I did was grab him by the throat and launch a punch into his face as I held him up and let his feet dangle in the air. Blood gushed from his mouth, a few teeth scattered against the floor and by the time I'd launched another punch into his face, his cheeks were bruised and swollen. I threw him back onto the floor and then started taking his hand in mine. As I did so, ever ready to snap the first finger, I smiled down at the whimpering rogue and said, "Let me introduce myself to you," and with that, I took his pinkie between my thumb and index finger and began pushing it back until the bones inside snapped and even when they did, I still pushed until his pinkie was almost touching the back of his palm. "My name is Lucien Michaels, and I am the founder of the Vixens." And as I said this, he cried out over and over again in agony as I began snapping more of his fingers.

"If you *ever* touch one of my Vixens again, I will make you wish you were dead, do you understand? Now tell me, who do you work for?" I uttered out. But the man never answered, instead he kept his kept his mouth shut, despite the salty tears running down his face.

"Not a talker, huh? We'll see about that. Why don't we play a little game... after all, I love playing games? This one can be a Game of Torture. I'm going to rip apart parts of your body and watch them regrow, and just before you're healed, I'll do it all over again. And then, if you still don't want to talk, you'll have a date with the water. To win this game, you must surrender and tell me what I want to know. As a reward, I'll let you live. Continue to give me this 'silent treatment' and you lose. As a punishment, I'll let you *die*. Both of them will send a message to whoever you're working for, so I don't really mind any outcome."

Still, he stayed silent. And so, I began my game of torture. First, I gripped at his jaw and forced it open. He thrashed in my grasp and attempted fighting back but again, I was too strong for him. My clawed fingers reached into his mouth and soon made their way around his tongue. In a swift movement, I tore it right in half, sending blood gushing out between his forked tongue. He screamed out in sweet agony, and I chuckled wickedly, savouring the sound of his misery.

"Now what should I tear up next? How about those pretty blue eyes of yours?"

"N-no!" It came out as a mumbled whimper and again, he tried to get away from me. But I pulled him closer and tilted his head back.

"You can stop all of this if you just tell me exactly who it is you're working for. I am a merciful man after all." I was also a very good liar.

But the man shook his head and I sighed out. "Tisk tisk. Pain it is then, dear friend."

I elongated my claws again and, with my left hand clutched onto the lids of his left eye before plunging my claw right through his eyeball. It would regenerate... right? I was sure that by now the rogue had screamed his throat raw.

"Who do you work for?" I asked again, getting ready to stick my claw into the next eye. The one I'd just assaulted was leaking blood and because his lids were closed, it looked as though he were crying blood. But the man remained silent on who he worked for and instead just pleaded for me to stop.

"You want me to stop? Then tell me who you're *fucking* working for. Goddess, you're making me cuss now!" I sighed out, frustrated.

"I c-can't. Please... stop. J-just let me go. I'll never touch one of your Vixens again, and I w-will make s-sure everyone knows that th-they are off l-limits."

I chuckled at his pathetic little plea and then said, "No, good sir, it doesn't work like that. You see, as the notorious founder and King of the Vixens, I have a few principles. You see the girls who work for me aren't just little pieces of trash that I picked up on the street. They are young women who've had to fight tooth and nail for some sort of power in life. And I provide that. I train them to be powerful in the best way I know how- sexually. And in order to protect them I have a clear *no touching* rule. They can touch you, but you can *never* touch them. I guarantee them safety because I never want them to feel afraid or powerless. And yet motherfuckers like you think it's okay to not only touch but hurt *my* Vixens. How can I guarantee their safety, how can I make them feel strong if I let you get away with it? It doesn't work like that. So, you will be a reminder to everyone of what happens if a single hair on one of the Vixens is misplaced. You don't fucking hurt *my* girls." By now I was beyond enraged and by the fear in the rogue's eyes, he knew it too. I gripped him by the strands of his hair, making sure it hurt and then began tugging him towards the bathtub. As I did, he tried to struggle against me, scaping his feet against the ground. But after a few strong tugs, I had him dangling mid-air over the tub. In one, swift movement I shoved his body inside and placed my hands on his shoulders as I submerged his head under the water. A large number of bubbles rose up to the surface of the water as he screamed and struggled and blood from my previous acts of torture began to float around in the water, staining it red. I held him under for a few more moments, waiting for the bubbles to stop and then some.

Once I was sure that he was dead, I began dragging him out of the water and carried him along with me as I exited the bathroom. On my way out, I quickly snatched at my shirt.

George and Bethany were still clutched together, with Bethany now fast asleep in his arms. If I'd have known that turning some of my Vixens into wolves would be this dangerous, I would never have done it in the first place.

"George, I'm going to need you to call Sasha for a clean-up. The body, however, should be left here. I want to send a message to whatever sick bastard he was working for and for anyone else who tries to lay a hand on my Vixens."

I then laid the body down on the floor in the kitchen and grabbed at a knife in one of the drawers. Slowly I tore at the fabric of his shirt and once his chest was exposed, I carved "Vixen King" on his flesh. I then left the knife on the floor next to him for Sasha.

It seemed the werewolf world was having a slight rogue problem, and I was dying to find the root of it.