Reclaimed By My Alpha (Natalia and Andrei) novel Chapter 555

Andrei’s POV

The castle had no name.

It didn’t need one. Everyone who knew of it knew what it was, and everyone who didn’t know of it wasn’t meant to. It sat at the edge of the Ashfields, where the ground was black and cracked and the sky was always dark, and it had been mine for five years.

The previous lord had left it in a sorry state. Half of the upper floors were uninhabitable, the staff were useless, and the whole place smelled like decay. It had taken me the better part of a year just to get it functional. Another year after that to make it formidable.

Now it was both of those things, and more.

I walked the long corridor toward the lower levels with my hands clasped behind my back. The staff I passed by bowed all the way to the floor, pressing their foreheads against the tiles. A few of the newer ones who hadn’t been broken yet kissed my boots.

I ignored them.

The guard at the lower door pulled it open when he heard my footsteps. He didn’t speak. None of them did unless I asked them to -that was a rule I’d established in the first year and had not needed to repeat. I walked past him and descended the stairs.

The lower levels were cold and damp, which I had decided early on was a feature rather than a flaw. It had a certain effect on people, the cold. It made them feel small and alone, like baby birds without their mother.

The wolf was in the third cell. He’d been here for four days. He was a large male, broad across the shoulders, with the build of a warrior. He sat slumped against the back wall with his wrists chained above his head, and he looked up when I entered.

I pulled the chair from the corner and sat down across from him.

“Good morning,” I said.

He said nothing.

“You look tired.” I rested my elbows on my knees and looked at him. “That’s understandable.”

He remained quiet. His jaw was set hard. He was trying to hold onto his dignity, but I knew it wouldn’t last. I needed information, and I would get it by any means. Keeping him alive wasn’t important; this was the fucking underworld. No one in my castle ever truly died. They’d just wake up again, rotting more than the last time, just a little more broken, a little more hollow.

“So. We were talking yesterday about patrol rotations,” I said. “Specifically, the northern border of your pack. You remembered the schedule for the first and third weeks. You went quiet on the second and fourth.”

“I don’t know the second and fourth,” he said. His voice was rough from screaming.

“I think you do,” I said.

He looked away.

I stood, picked up the chair, and set it aside. Then, with slow, painstaking movements, I rolled up my sleeves.

It took another hour. He was stubborn, which I could respect–most of these worms broke faster than he did. But eventually they all reached the same point, where holding on stopped feeling like strength and started feeling like pointless suttering, and they’d give up.

When he finally talked, he was thorough. The second and fourth week patrol rotations, the guard rotation at the eastern gate, the name of the Beta who handled communications with the neighboring pack. It was more than I’d asked for, they always gave more than you asked for in the end.

“daske

12

Chapter 555

+30 Bonus

I listened and remembered everything. I didn’t write it down in front of them. It unsettled them more, not knowing how much i was retaining.

When he was finished, he slumped forward, breathing hard.

I stood there for a moment.

“Thank you,” I said. “You’ve been very helpful. I’ll have the slaves add some extra mystery meat to your slop tonight.”

“Go to hell.”

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