The Beta's Unwanted Mate | ✔️ Complete

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My eyes zeroed at my free hands and I eyed the open doors cautiously. It was too perfect a situation, to not take advantage of.

They had forgotten to tie my hands back. And now I'll run. You can't expect me not to.

Hurriedly, with slightly shaky hands, I started untying the rope that tied my legs to chair when I heard a feminine voice from the back of the room.

"If I were you, I won't dare to escape." She said. "You may not know but the people outside this little cellar are bloodthirsty. And they'd do anything for it. They'd do anything for a reward from their master. And if it is your death, then so be it."

I turned my head back so quickly, that was surprised I still had a neck. I found the same lady that has walked in with the head of the rogues earlier, standing on a dark corner right behind me, with her hands crossed over the chest and a grim expression on her face.

I don't know how she managed to sneak back there, but whatever it was, creeped me out.

Maybe she was silently monitoring me the entire time.

"W-Who are you?" I gulped, my voice stuttering as my mind immediately went to the worst possiblities ever.

She stepped out of the darkness, even then I could barely see her face under the dim light of the setting sun.

"I'm Doctor Patricia." She said, extending her arm for me to shake.

Her jet black eyes seem to stare into my soul as she waited for me to shake her hand.

With utmost uncertainty and hesitance, I took her hand in mine and that's when I realized how cold my palm was against her warm one.

"I was wondering how long it will take for you to realize that you could run." She said, coming in front of me.

Her black hair were tied into a neat pony tail, emphasizing her perfect bone structure that was complimented by her rich, chocolate brown skin, pouty lips, high cheekbones and big, doll eyes.

"You're not the only one who has tried to do this. And let me tell you, no one ever survived. You may not be able to see it, but just a foot away from your cellar, there are guards on both sides. And from there, there are two guards per cellar. If you do manage to dodge them and reach the back doors, you'll be greeted by two cyanide cylinder that are filled in anticipation of someone trying to escape. Once the emergency alarm is pressed by the guards, the gas will be released and you'll die right then. Even though no one has gone farther than then, let's assume you do manage to miraculously cross the gas cylinders. When you'll get out of the door, in order to get out of this enclosed, claimed land, you'll have to cross an electric fencing of 500 Volt, which I don't think will be a pleasant experience."

She talked like she was talking about the weather as she walked across the room, to pick the small box she had kept at the door. Picking it up, she opened it to reveal a good variety of tubes containing unknown liquids, syringes, tablets, bandages and whole lot of things I had seen my father use— but had no clue about them.

My throat ran dry at the description of how highly "safe" this place was and I realized that I had no choice now. No scope of escaping.

But then again, could I trust her? Maybe she was just scaring me?

As if she could read my mind, she looked up and smirked.

"If you are finding it hard to trust me, you can try it the next time they leave you untied. For now I'll have to inject you with the intriguing chemical, but the next time you do try it on, think about my words when you're hanging onto the fringes of your life at the gas cylinders or maybe if you are lucky, at the electric fences."