Claimed by the Alpha and the Vampire Prince: Masquerading as a Man Chapter 182: Den Of Wolves

Clark POV:

Scratch anyti I ever said Reed was safe. Gods, no—this wolf was the literal embodint of danger. And I’m not saying that lightly.If Blaze was terrifying in his cold, quiet, predator way, then Reed was chaos set on fire, wrapped in a smirk, and driving a red sports car. His kind of danger was unpredictable, wild, the type that made you want to puke because you couldn’t tell if he was going to kill you, kiss you, or laugh in your face while watching you drown.

Let’s start with his driving skills. If you could call them skills. Compared to him, Clare—the girl with the reputation of driving like she had a death wish—was a saint. But Reed? He didn’t drive, he punished the road. He treated lanes like suggestions and brakes like accessories he could live without. Reed wasn’t just fast. He was insane. He swerved through streets like he owned them, cutting turns so sharp I swear my soul left my body a dozen tis. My hands clutched the seatbelt until my knuckles were white, my stomach threatening to eject every miserable thing I’d eaten since birth. Every red light? Ignored. Every stop sign? A joke. I didn’t know if he was trying to kill or simply prove he could make physics bow to him.

By the ti the car screeched to a stop, I was sure half my organs had rearranged themselves and I was this close—this close—to puking all over his stupid leather seats. My chest was burning from the constant fear-breathing I had done the entire ride. My legs shook as I stumbled out, clutching the door like it was the last stable thing in my world.

And just when I thought the nightmare was over, that maybe he’d drag back to campus and glare into writing his essays or sothing, nope. Reed wasn’t done. Not by a long shot. Instead, he got out, slamd the door shut, and strolled off like so smug predator who’d brought ho dinner. And I, the pathetic little human glued to his shadow, followed him. Because what else was I supposed to do? Stay behind and risk his wrath? Yeah right.

He walked toward what looked like a club. From the outside it didn’t seem all that terrifying—dim lights, pulsing bass leaking through the walls, that kind of thing. But my gut twisted the second I saw it. Sothing was wrong. The air itself felt... heavier. Wronger. The windows were tinted black, the entrance frad with wrought iron shaped like wolf fangs. The air around it pulsed with sothing heavy, sothing that scread this is not for humans.

And here’s the kicker: Reed didn’t even check if I was following him. Not once. But I knew—with every fiber of my being—that he expected to follow. That if I dared to bolt, he’d hunt down. The kind of "hunt" that didn’t end with patting him on the back and saying, good wolf. He just started walking, confident as always, like a predator who never needed to check if his prey was still behind him—because of course it was. His prey never escaped.

I had half a mind to tell him I was still underage, you know, in case this was so regular club with bouncers who cared about IDs. But then it hit —this wasn’t the kind of place that gave a damn about legal drinking ages. No. This place didn’t care about rules that applied to normal humans. If anything, it was a whole different kind of law.

And that law didn’t look good for .

We stopped at the entrance, where two massive guys—like actual mountains dressed in black—stood guard. The two enormous n, wolves obviously, stationed like statues. Their shoulders were as wide as doors, and their eyes flickered gold when they looked at Reed. My first thought was, oh good, maybe they’ll kick out. Wrong again. Because the second they saw Reed? They bowed. They actually bowed their heads in respect.

What the actual hell? Was Reed so kind of royalty? Or was this just... normal behavior for wolves when they saw a custor? Either way, my stomach dropped to my toes.

Then one of them, with the thickest neck I’d ever seen, turned his gaze on . And he said it. The words that made my blood turn to ice.

"Alpha, what color of leash should we attach to your... pet?"

Pet.

Excuse ?

Did this hulking giant just call ——a pet?! Like so mutt Reed dragged in off the street?! I blinked at him, sure I’d misheard, but no. He ant it. He ant every damn syllable.

I’ve been called worse in my life, sure. Freak. Weakling. Dead weight. But a pet? The kind of word you use for an animal you own, a thing you control, a creature whose will doesn’t matter? My throat went dry.

And that wasn’t even the worst part.

Because out of the door behind them walked a woman—a wolf, obviously, given the air of dominance dripping off her. Beautiful, flawless, the kind of beauty only a wolf could have—but that wasn’t what froze . No. What froze was the leash she held in her hand. A red leash. And on the other end of that leash was... oh god.

A man. A human man. Late twenties, maybe thirty. And he was naked. Absolutely, completely naked. Birthday suit and all, like he’d been stripped of every ounce of dignity and paraded around like livestock. My face went hot, my pulse skyrocketed, and I couldn’t look away. His eyes were vacant, his lips slack, and—oh gods help —he was hard. His cock was erect, stiff and twitching with need, but capped with a cruel little cock ring.

A ring designed to deny him release. His body trembled as though caught between agony and humiliation.

My eyes went wide, panic flooding so fast I thought I might faint. My face burned, not just from the horror of seeing a naked man paraded like that, but from the grotesque humiliation of it all. He wasn’t treated like a human. He wasn’t treated like anything.

He was property.

I think I forgot how to breathe. My stomach lurched, bile clawing up my throat. This wasn’t a club. This was a hellhouse.

My eyes went round with panic, darting between the man, the leash, and the guards. My chest was tight, heart hamring like a rabbit’s, and I thought—no, I knew—this was about to be my fate. That in seconds, soone would slap a collar around my neck, strip bare, and make stumble into that den of nightmares.

And then Reed. Gods, Reed. He turned to . His eyes glowed with cruel amusent, lips curled into a wicked smile that made wish the earth would open and swallow whole.

"Put the purple leash," he said smoothly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Purple. Like he’d just chosen a tie to match his shirt. Like my humiliation was nothing more than picking a color off a shelf.

I froze, trembling, the word ringing in my ears. Purple. A leash. Around my neck. In this place, where humans weren’t people but... but pets. Toys. Property.

Every bone in my body scread run. My instincts begged to bolt, to throw myself into traffic if I had to. Anything was better than walking in there like so obedient puppy with a collar choking my throat. But then Reed’s gaze fixed on —hard, sharp, dangerous. The kind of look that said, try , kid. I dare you.

And suddenly running wasn’t an option. Running was suicide.

I could still hear the chains clinking inside the club, the muffled cries that weren’t quite cries, the mix of laughter and growls. The kind of place where humans went in and didn’t co back out the sa. If they even ca out at all.

This was worse than university. Way worse. At least in class, I only had to worry about vampires glaring at or Reed scaring the life out of . Here? Here, I wasn’t even human. I was prey. I was property. And there was no escape.

So when one of the guards reached for a collar—the purple one, smooth leather glinting under the neon light—I took a step back, panic flooding every nerve. My throat was dry, words stuck like stones in my chest.

Reed’s grin widened, sharp teeth catching the light. He didn’t say it, but I could hear the unspoken command:

Behave, little human. Or I’ll make you.

And gods help ... I stood there. Frozen. Terrified. Knowing I was about to walk into hell itself on a purple leash, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

Purple.

A leash.

On .

The guards nodded like it was normal, like this wasn’t the most degrading, terrifying thing a human could experience. My hands started to shake, my throat tightened, and I stumbled back half a step.