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Mated To The King’s Gamma novel Chapter 52

 


His little arm had a bruise, and he cried when I grabbed him, like he thought I was about to hurt him.

"Shh, shh. What's your name?” I ask him, yet he eyes Mrs.

Daley, clearly petrified of the woman.

He is all skin and bone, his big brown eyes had no light, his cheeks hollow and his eyes sunken in, his curly black hair sat on his shoulders and was matted and knotted.

"He doesn't talk,” Little Kimmy says, coming back out in her dirty pajamas.

She seems to be about nine and one of the oldest ones here, which I thought was strange, however seeing a rogue child was more bizarre, and I had a feeling it was just for show in case the King stopped by.

One thing is apparent - none of these children were cared for properly, and that really grinds my gears.

“Like he can't, or he doesn't know how?" I ask her.

She shrugs, and her eyes dart to Mrs. Daley.

It was clear she was scared of the woman.

"Mrs. Daley is leaving today. She is retiring. You can speak freely, she won't hurt you,” I tell Kimmy. She bites her lip before scratching the back of her matted blonde hair.

“I heard Mrs. Daley fighting with Katrina.

Katrina wanted to take him and his brother but Mrs.

Daley wouldn't let her.” "He has a brother?"

“Had. We haven't seen him for two days.

He bit Mrs. Daley when she smacked Oliver, Kimmy says, pointing to the boy in my arms.

"His name is Oliver?” Kimmy nods.

"The brother's name?"

“Logan, Sir,” she says, and I nod.

“What about Katrina? Does she hurt you?"

Kimmy shakes her head, and she looks at Mrs.

Daley nervously, who stares ahead, looking out the window above the sink vacantly.

She knew she had fucked up.

"Mrs. Daley had the butcher hurt Katrina for sticking up for them.

He broke her arm, but she is ok now.” "Kimmy, can you find some clothes and socks for Oliver?"

I tell her, and she nods, holding her arms out for him.

He goes to her, and she takes him upstairs while I turn Mrs.

Daley's wheelchair with my foot.

“Where is his brother?” "The kid is a menace! He bit me like a savage!” she sneers.

“Where is the boy?” I snarl, and Liam glares at her before twisting his knife between his fingers in a warming.

“I would answer him. We dont like child abusers. But you already know that,” Liam wams her, and she gulps.

“In the laundry room outside,” I growl, storming outside in search of it before finding it behind the shed.

I could hear whimpering when I approached the wooden door.

Pushing it open, I find another small boy inside a cage underneath the bench next to the washer.

Anger courses through me as I bend down and snap the lock.

He looks to be about Kimmy’s age, though he is freezing cold, and clearly bruised and battered.

"Did Mrs. Daley do this to you?” The boy shakes his head, moving to the back of the cage.

"I won't hurt you. I am here to help," I tell him.

“My brother! Help my brother!” he whimpers, cringing away when I break the front door off and open the dog cage.

“Who put you in here? Did Katrina? I won't hurt you, and I won't let them hurt you.” I tell him while taking my jacket off.

I drape it over his skinny frame, and he shakes his head.

"No, she tried to help me.” “Who brought you out here, then? Daley couldn't have.

She wouldn't have got down the back steps.” “The Butcher did, Sir,” he says as he stares at my outstretched hand.

“Come on, you and your brother are coming home with me. I won't hurt you, but I need you to come inside where it is warm. Liam is inside. You will like Liam, he is making pancakes,” I tell him.

He hesitates before dropping his hand in mine, and I pull him from the small cage.

"How old are you?” "Eight, Sir” I nod before seeing his bare feet and scooping him up.

I carry him inside before stepping into the kitchen.

“Where is Daley?” I ask, noticing her wheelchair gone.

"She went to get more flour,” Liam says, winking at me.

I smirk, taking Logan to the living room before wrapping the surrounding blanket from the couch around him.

I then went and got firewood and filled all the fireplaces, lighting them.

The smell of pancakes wafted through the place.

Eventually, Katrina walks in just as I got the living room fireplace going.

She was a young woman in her twenties, with brown shoulder-length hair.

The kids seem to like her, jumping around and trying to get her attention.

She stopped when I stood up and stared at me.

“Who are you?” she asks, looking at me nervously.

She sniffs the air before baring her neck to me.

"Gannon. Liam is out there. I assume you are Katrina?’ She nods her head.

“Mrs. Daley?"

she asks.

“In the basement, I tell her, and she nods before her brows pinch, and she opens her mouth to say something before spotting Logan by the fire, and her eyes widen.

Oliver was sitting on his lap.

She rushes over, and I grip her arm.

“I won't hurt them! I am not Daley!” she spits at me, and I let her go.

She rushes over and fusses over them.

I sigh before walking to the door.

"Help Liam feed the children.

You just got promoted to headmistress,’ I tell her, and she nods.

Walking to the kitchen, I can hear groaning and pained wails coming from the basement.

“Want a hand?"

Liam asks, and I look at him covered in flour.

“Nope;’ I tell him, snatching the knives from the counter and opening the basement door.

I hear Liam flick the radio on that sits on the windowsill and blasting the music.

Stomping down the steps.

Mrs. Daley tried crawling away where she had been pushed down the stairs, her legs tangled in the wheelchair as she clawed at the ground.

“Change of plans.

I wanna hear you scream; I tell her.

Reaching down, I grip her hair and yank her head back.

“And you will scream!"

I snarl. Liam had to keep turning the music up.

Mrs. Daley's screams echoed around the basement.

Eventually, her screams cut out completely, her body bloody and lifeless, having skinned the bitch alive.

Oh, how I loved hearing them scream.

Although I could have gone without the erection it gave me.

Blood coated the stone floor red, the smell was pungent, and the place reeked of raw meat.

Washing my hands in the filthy sink, I dry them on a hessian bag I found sitting beside it before looking at the old hag's pelt hanging up ona hook from the ceiling, admiring my handiwork.

I head for the stairs with a shrug.

The rickety old steps creak under my weight as I climb them.

Opening the door, I shake my head when I see Liam shaking his ass and dancing to the music he had blaring loudly.

Liam was still wearing his floral apron while doing the dishes.

Katrina comes into the kitchen with another pile of plates clutched in her hands, a tea towel draped over her shoulder.

She gives me a wary look and hesitates for a second, then hurries past me toward the small kitchen.

I watch as she sets the plates on the bench beside Liam.

He grabs her hand and twirls her around before pulling her to dance with him, tugging her body flush against his.

Only then does he spot me standing by the basement door.

He smirks, before letting her go and drying his hands on the apron.

“About time! I thought you were trying on Mrs.

Daley and wearing her skin as a suit with how long you were taking,’ Liam laughs.

Katrina stares wide-eyed at me, turning my head to look at her, and she hastily looks away.

Liam undoes his apron and sets it on the counter before pecking Katrina on the cheek.

“Be seeing you later, doll face” he says, sending her a wink.

I shake my head as he walks towards me when he stops at the door leading out to the hall.

"On second thought.” He turns back and snatches the apron off the counter.

“You don't want this, do you?” Katrina shakes her head.

I was pretty sure she would give him her kidney if it meant he would get away from her.

Probably even cut it out herself.

"Good, it looks better on me anyway, he says, chucking it over his shoulder and sauntering out.

“Ah, Mrs. Daley?’ Katrina asks me when I turn to follow him.

“No need to worry, I already hung her up to dry.

Just let her air out for a bit,’ I tell her, following Liam back through the place.

I stop when I pass Oliver and Logan, who are both still sitting in the same spot, huddled underneath a blanket, watching the other children playing with some puzzles.

“I will be back in a few hours to pick you up, I have someone I want you both to meet,’ I tell them.

Oliver rests his head on Logan's shoulder, sucking his thumb.

“Who?" Logan asks me, hugging his brother closer.

“A woman named Clarice.

You will like her, and she will love both of you.

She will take good care of you,’ I tell him as he chews his lip while looking at his little brother.

He nods, so I turn on my heel before walking outside.

When I do, I am confronted with Alpha Dean and Alpha Brock, who must have been having a heated argument with Liam.

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