Chapter 25 - Ange, My Angel ~ Extra Story: Escape

Translator's Note:

Hello, I hope you've all been doing well.

Here you go, and I wish you a good read.

And, as I said before, if you wish to read ahead, you can head over to my Patreon to get early access to all the translated chapters.

—No.

 

The thought of being stretched open, the place that had been shaped perfectly to fit Amber, now being molded to fit another man—it made Ange sick to his stomach.

 

—Absolutely not. I'd rather die.

 

No matter how much he resisted, he knew he couldn't overpower this man. He'd be pinned down, his struggling body easily subdued, and brutally violated.

 

But even if the drug forced him to feel pleasure, the thought repulsed him.

 

He would rather die than feel that way because of this man. He would fight, even if it meant being killed.

 

"Stop! No, I don't want this!"

 

Ange's raspy voice carried his desperate plea as he flailed his arms and legs with all the strength he had left.

 

"Damn it!" the man cursed.

 

The next moment, a sharp slap landed across Ange's face.

 

He didn't know if the needle had already pierced his skin.

 

But the syringe flew from the man's hand, landing with a soft crack on the floor, the small sound almost lost in the chaos.

 

Even as he felt the weight of the man pinning him down, Ange fought back with all he had.

 

"You bastard!"

 

The man growled angrily, grabbing Ange's slender wrist.

 

Ange wrenched free from his grasp, forming a fist with his now-freed hand, and struck the man's gut. As the man recoiled, Ange scratched wildly at his face.

 

But before he could take another breath, the man's hand came down again, this time harder, slapping Ange with even more force.

 

Blow after blow rained down, each one harsher than the last, until the final strike sent Ange flying, collapsing onto the bed.

 

His body, limp and drained, slumped sideways. He pressed a trembling hand to his swollen cheek, burying his face into the tangled sheets beneath him.

 

At last, Ange lay still, his body unable to move any longer.

 

"Hey, there's more in the car, right? Bring all of it," the man ordered, his clothes rustling as he barked at the other two men in the room.

 

"Are you sure? To use so much without—"

 

"Of course. He's already bonded, so he won't fetch a high price. We'll just keep him drugged up and have him entertain clients. There's no other use for him."

 

"But still—"

 

"Just do as I say! There's another syringe, isn't there?"

 

"..."

 

"You know the drill. After I've had my turn, I'll let you boys have yours. Now, hurry up!"

 

"Yes, sir," the two men stammered, hurrying out of the room.

 

The man left behind chuckled darkly, the sound echoing in his throat.

 

—By the time it's your turn, he'll probably be broken anyway, he sneered inwardly.

 

The bed creaked as the man's presence grew closer, hovering above Ange.

 

There was no escape.

 

He couldn't even move a finger.

 

The man grabbed Ange's limp body, flipping him onto his back, then mounted him, straddling his waist.

 

Ange's bare skin brushed against the coarse fur of a beast, and with trembling eyes, he looked up at the man, shock dawning on his face.

 

"Don't move too much. It's only going to excite me more," the man grinned.

 

"…Werewolf…"

 

Ange had suspected it from their earlier conversations, but seeing it with his own eyes was a different matter altogether.

 

This man's body was massive, larger and more muscular than either Amber or Ian.

 

He had a long snout, triangular ears, and pale gray-blue eyes.

 

His entire body was covered in thick white fur, but the resemblance to Ian stopped there.

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