Marked By the Pureblood Alpha (Deanna and Luis) novel Chapter 290

**Chapter 290: Throwing “Darts”**

Erik let out a long, weary sigh, a sound that seemed to echo the tension in the air.

Of all the choices Mason had, messing with Deanna was perhaps the worst decision he could have made. It was as if he was inviting disaster, and Erik could only shake his head at the reckless audacity of it all.

With a deliberate motion, Erik reached for a pristine white porcelain plate that gleamed under the dim lighting of the room. On it lay an assortment of sharp fruit knives, their blades glinting ominously. He placed the plate squarely in front of Luis, who was already engrossed in his own game.

Luis, with a devil-may-care attitude, pulled Deanna close, resting his chin on her shoulder as if she were his prized possession. There was an intimacy in that gesture, a protective quality that Erik couldn’t help but notice. Luis picked up one of the knives, its handle smooth against his palm, and placed it gently in Deanna’s hand. He wrapped his own fingers around hers, guiding her grip with a sense of authority. “Let me teach you how to throw a knife,” he said, his voice low and almost conspiratorial.

The moment the words left his lips, he flicked his wrist with a swift motion—swish!

The fruit knife sailed through the air like a dart, its trajectory true and unerring. It struck Mason right between his legs with a sickening thud.

“Ah!” Mason’s scream pierced the charged atmosphere, a sound of pure panic that sent a ripple through the gathered werewolves.

In that instant, a chilling silence enveloped the room. Mason’s body froze, his legs trembling as if he were caught in a violent storm. The reality of his situation dawned on him, and he felt an overwhelming rush of humiliation wash over him. In werewolf society, succumbing to fear was a fate worse than injury itself.

Gasps erupted from the onlookers, a collective intake of breath that spoke volumes. Oh God! They thought, witnessing Mr. Eaton’s casual cruelty, a game played at the expense of an Omega just to elicit a smile from Deanna. His audacity was both shocking and enthralling.

Luis, undeterred, continued to hold onto Deanna’s hand, a smirk playing on his lips as he expertly guided her. One knife after another flew from her hand, each one finding its mark on Mason—his thigh, his arm, and even a close call just inches from his head.

Mason’s eyes rolled back in sheer agony; he was barely clinging to consciousness. His pants were drenched, the evidence of his fear staining the fabric over and over again.

Yet, despite the chaos, his body lay paralyzed on the ground, unable to escape the torment until, at last, he succumbed to the darkness and passed out.

For Deanna, this was a first. It was her inaugural experience using a living target, more akin to a game of darts than anything else. An unexpected thrill coursed through her veins, and she found herself enjoying the bizarre turn of events. With a casualness that belied the gravity of the situation, she remarked, “I didn’t hit a single one.”

Luis turned his gaze toward her, his eyes sparkling with mischief and intrigue. “Not satisfied?” he teased, his tone playful yet laced with an underlying intensity.

In a swift motion, he covered her eyes with his hand, shielding her from the spectacle that was unfolding. Just as quickly, a cold glint flashed again in the air.

The knife landed with a sickening thud, this time embedding itself deep into Mason’s inner thigh. Blood erupted from the wound, a stark contrast against the pallor of his skin.

“Argh!” Mason, who had been lost to unconsciousness, jolted awake, his scream a raw expression of pain that reverberated through the room.

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