The Female Alpha’s Sanctuary

Chapter 142

Chapter 142

Not a moment after, Isaac walks back to where Val is sitting. I look to his gloved hands to find them both occupier. He held not one, but two things.

Nails and the silver scraper.

Isaac catches my eyes and shrugs,

“I couldn’t chose.”

I shake my head in amusement and tuck my knuckles under my chin. Leaning forward at the edge of my seat, I take in the show in front of me.

When I first started training to be an Alpha, Meredith had made me watch countless interrogation sessions with the rogues they’ve caught. It was visual training, she’d tell me. To see firsthand one of the many things I’d have to do as Alpha. It wasnt a matter of whether I can stomach doing such at thing or not, it was a matter if I could lie about stomaching it. At least, until I was out that door and away from the person detained.

Morals, righteousness, humanity-

none of that mattered the moment I stepped inside an interrogation room. The only thing that was deemed important was getting the answers I needed. No matter the method, extraction of answers was the objective. It didn’t matter if I was a saint; Alphas can’t be soft.

It was their life versus the safety of my pack.

as simple

by Williams. As expected, the first time I saw one I could hardly watch for three minutes before I ran out

merciless, patient and tactful.

had to be all four.

or pity when in the process of interrogation.

hard doing that,

closed, digging his nails into his palms with every means to keep his fist clenched through his resistance but Isaac’s patience wears thin. The minute Val’s hand

wasn’t just the touch of silver that caused him pain. It was the fact that his body was trying to heal the wound yet still being in contact with silver that makes it unbearable. A wolves, our healing was faster. Small cuts would heal

silver piercing into you without it’s removal only adds to the

He refuses to look at his hand, his head

Co On

Chapter 142

allowing Val to adjust to

<

and his neck stiffens from strain. Veins pop form his forehead, neck, and even his arms are adorned with veins from the tightness his body has coiled into. Looking at me,

“Do it.”

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