Samantha's POV:

After passing through the gates of hell, I ended up in a dense forest and was immediately mistaken for a slave.

~

Flashback to two hours earlier:

“What are you doing out here? Aren't you one of the slaves?” a husky voice asked. Before I could turn in the direction of the voice, a hefty-looking man dragged me into a shabby carriage.

I could have killed him right there, but I decided to play along when I caught sight of Kelvin's pack badge on his uniform.

The murmurs of other slaves filled my ears in the cramped carriage.

“This is so unfair,” one whispered. 

“Where are they taking us?” another woman asked, probably not expecting an answer.

“Fool. She should have escaped when she had the chance,” an elderly woman muttered, her eyes fixated on me.

I had the sudden urge to strangle her, but I restrained myself and kept quiet, gnawing at my fingernails instead.

“You aren't one of us, are you?” A slender lady seated beside me asked, as she scanned my clothes.

She had a deep cut on her face, and flies buzzed around it.

I wasn't paying attention to their outfits before, but now that she'd correctly pinpointed that I wasn't a slave, I lazily looked at their dresses and was dismayed to see that they were poorly dressed, and the women looked unfed. 

One girl was heavily pregnant and crying uncontrollably. 

“Crying won't solve anything,” I told her flatly. “Better come up with a plan for that unborn child rather than drowning yourself in tears,” I hissed, my voice neither cold nor bitter.

I felt a bit sorry for the baby, which would be born into suffering and discrimination. 

Who knows? It might never be accepted, the same way I was never accepted. 

The girl didn't reply but turned away and kept crying.

There were twenty-three of us in the carriage and two dead bodies.

“She was harassed by one of the drivers,” the slender lady explained to me.

“Pathetic,” I scorned, shaking my head. “She should have cut off his balls.”

Another lady laughed hysterically. “Cut off his balls? You sound so brave,” she added, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I snarled at her, scaring the daylight out of the poor lady.

But the slender one wasn't done. “Over twenty children have died from infection. And we ladies have been molested several times. If we refuse to release our bodies, they will take it forcefully and still beat us.” She paused for a while before forcing a little smile.

“I’m Clara,” she said, stretching out her hand for a shake.

I merely acknowledged her handshake before I hissed. 

I expected her to feel embarrassed, but she only smiled wider. “It’s fine. I guess you don't have a lot of friends,” she said, making a failed attempt to stretch her body.

It was then that I realized she was also pregnant. I was confused at her calm and friendly demeanor, despite her obvious pain. 

She had her problems, yet felt sorry for her fellow beings.

“What a weak heart. I doubt she will last a day in hell,” I thought, disgusted by her character. 

About two hours later, the carriage stopped, and a loud flute was blown.

“We've arrived! The Northern pack!” one of the guards exclaimed excitedly.

“North?” I muttered in surprise, “But Kelvin's pack is in the East. Why would he transfer to the North?”

The guards yanked the women out, shoving and dragging them mercilessly. 

Some were begging for mercy, while some were weeping profusely.

 I sat still, staring at everything with an unreadable expression, until the same hefty-looking man grabbed me, throwing me onto the ground before laughing with his comrades.

I swiftly scanned my surroundings, and when I looked up, I froze.

A breathtaking mansion towered before me, beautiful gardens lining the entrance. 

It was like none I had ever seen.

Werewolves walked about, not sparing us a glance. Their focus fixated on their pursuits.

“I heard it's rude to mistreat women,” I murmured, staring at the ugly guards, wondering what type of painful death I should grant the idiots.

The guards laughed in response and began harassing the women again. 

I wanted to ignore it all, but when one reached for Clara's backside, I snapped. 

I got up and slammed my fist into the guard's face.

Clara was shocked, as were the women. 

The guard, whom I had punched, got up almost immediately and charged at me. 

I brought out my claws and pierced into his stomach. 

His liver, kidneys, and intestines spilled out, and the women screamed in fear.

“You bitch!” One of the guards yelled and jumped on me.

I punched him in the belly and he raised his hands to hit me, but I caught it midair. I twisted it until he growled in pain before tossing him aside.

Two other soldiers rushed at me. I brought out my fangs and tore the first one's head from his neck.

There was a blood outpour, and my dress was drenched. 

I angrily picked up the other soldier and dug my claws into his chest, bringing out his heart.

My mouth was covered in dripping blood, and his heart was in my hand.

I turned to face the ladies with a victorious smirk on my face.

Clara's face paled, but she smiled faintly, as if impressed by my actions.

I snarled at the other frightened men.

“Who's next?” I smirked as I crushed the fleshy heart with my claws.

“That's enough!” A loud voice suddenly thundered.

I swiftly turned towards the voice, and my grin widened.