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Defy The Alpha(s) - Chapter 696

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  3. Defy The Alpha(s)
  4. Chapter 696 - Capítulo 696: The Life After Death
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Capítulo 696: The Life After Death

Ezra’s wolf was a blackish-gray beast, his coat dark as storm clouds at first glance, but streaked with silver whenever the light struck it. He cut through the trees like a shadow given form and he led the charge.

A snarl ripped from Cane’s throat, hatred igniting in his eyes the moment he saw the rival sub-Alpha. He had always despised Ezra — the hypocrisy, the self-righteous calm, that irritating air of honor Ezra wore like armor. Even before Ezra became Asher’s right hand, Cane had wanted him dead.

He should have known something was wrong the moment Micah showed up. What business did the former king’s demon-spawn son have on West Pack soil, much less inside his stronghold? But Cane had been too focused on orchestrating his own attack to realize his enemies had outmaneuvered him first.

Fine. That didn’t matter now.

This was an opportunity and he would not let it slip by. He would tear Ezra apart and erase the bastard once and for all.

So Cane shoved free from Micah’s hold. He crouched low, his chest vibrating with the rage of his wolf, ready to launch into the fight when the world suddenly swirled around him.

The next thing Cane knew, he was standing on the edge of a cliff, and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest. With a startled shout, he stumbled back several steps before daring to look down.

Beneath him churned a river of molten lava.

But that wasn’t the most horrifying part.

Things were swimming in it.

That is, If they could even be called things. These were living beings, but their flesh was gone, and charred away. They were nothing but blackened skeletons, but somehow still alive, screaming, and writhing through the endless burning river.

Cane’s eyes widened like saucers, the blood draining from his face. He didn’t know where he was, not exactly, but a nagging dread whispered the truth. He just didn’t want to admit it.

This had to be a dream. But It wasn’t.

This realm was swallowed in darkness, yet the infernal embers kept everything lit in a haunting, blood-red glow. The air was dry and blistering hot, burning his throat with every breath. He already felt parched, desperate for water.

But the screams—goddess, the screams.

Millions—no, billions—of tormented souls wailing in agony. The sound was deafening, pounding into his skull, splintering it from the inside. He could hear pieces of their voices, whispers of regret, stories of mistakes, and pleas for second chances they would never receive.

But it was too late for all of them.

Cane’s terror grew as a massive demon emerged through the glowing heat and stepped into the molten river. The flames didn’t touch him of course. This was his home and he was immune to its cruelty.

He towered at nearly ten feet tall, wielding a large, sharp, wicked looking spear.

Alpha Cane knew, with a cold certainty, that if they pitted him against that monster, he wouldn’t last a second. There was no flesh to rip into, no vulnerable point to sink his claws. The demon was all bone and probably indestructible, unlike him.

He wouldn’t win.

Then he watched as the demon thrust his massive spear into the molten river of souls and hauled one out on the blade’s tip. Bile surged up Cane’s throat immediately. The sight was like watching someone spear a piece of steak except this wasn’t beef.

It was a human being.

The soul dangled weakly from the spear, and Cane noticed something horrifying: this one wasn’t all bone yet. Now that it was out of the river, the missing flesh had begun to grow back slowly yet painfully.

Cane remembered with a sickening jolt that the souls in hell were immortal— condemned to suffer, heal, and suffer again. Forever. There was no pause nor respite. This was their punishment.

“No, no—please! Please have mercy!” the soul sobbed.

But it wasn’t the pleas that froze Cane where he stood.

It was the voice.

He could recognize that voice even while asleep.

Alpha Henry.

Cane’s jaw dropped, horror choking him as he stared. Henry was barely recognizable, his flesh charred and peeling, still regrowing even as it burned away again. But it was him.

“A–Alpha…” Cane rasped in disbelief.

It never did hit him where Henry would end up after the atrocities he committed. Perhaps it just never occurred to him that he would be punished. Or perhaps they chose to live their lives without a care for where they ended up after death. But now, reality was staring both of them in the face.

The demon grabbed Henry by the torso and lifted him casually, while Henry’s body dangled helplessly.

“Please—no, don’t! I can’t take anymore!” Henry cried with a cracked voice.

But the demon only smirked cruelly, and rumbled, “You enjoyed tormenting people when you were alive. Why? Can’t face a bigger opponent now, Alpha?”

Then, as if Henry were a rag doll and the demon a child bored of his toy, he seized Henry’s arm and ripped it clean off. The limb was tossed back into the lava. Henry’s scream was so piercing Cane felt it in his bones.

“No! No, please—stop! Stop already! It hurts!”

The demon tilted his head, savoring the agony. “There is no stopping. Not for a soul in here.”

Cane should have looked away, but he couldn’t. His eyes stayed locked as the demon tore Henry apart piece by piece, until only the head remained. Then the demon kicked it back into the molten river.

Cane knew Henry wasn’t dead. He couldn’t die.

His torment would restart. Again. And again. For eternity.

Whether it was cold sweat or the blistering heat, Cane was drenched from head to toe. Trembling, he turned, and found Micah leaning against a jagged rock, clutching his wounded side.

Micah smirked darkly. “How’s that for the life you’re about to enjoy once yours ends?”

Cane’s scream tore from his throat instantly.

“GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!”

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