The moment I opened my eyes, I knew something was different. The air wasn’t heavy with the Alpha’s presence. The room wasn’t charged with the suffocating weight of his gaze. Instead, there was softness in the space around me an almost fragile warmth I hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever.
"Ellie?"
The voice was gentle, so startlingly familiar that I thought I was hallucinating. My breath caught in my throat, and my chest tightened. I turned my head, expecting the same nightmare cycle to continue, but what I saw instead sent a wave of shock crashing through me. Two figures leaned close, faces I thought I’d never see again.
"Joan..." The name slipped from me like a broken prayer.
Her eyes widened, and in an instant they filled with tears. She grasped my hand between hers, squeezing so hard I could feel the tremor of her desperation. "It’s really you," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Ellie, you’re alive you’re really alive."
Beside her, another pair of warm eyes glistened with emotion.
"Don’t cry too hard yet. You’ll make yourself sick."
"Elara..." My throat closed, and tears streamed down my cheeks.
I couldn’t stop staring at them. They were real. My friends no, my family in all the ways that mattered were here, sitting beside me as if time had reversed and all the horrors I had endured had been nothing more than a long, twisted dream.
My trembling fingers reached out, brushing Elara’s wrist before clutching it tightly, afraid that if I let go, she would vanish like smoke. "How... how are you here? Did he—?"
At the mention of him, both of their faces faltered, shadows clouding their relief.
"Elie," Joan whispered, lowering her voice as if the walls themselves could betray us, "the Alpha sent for us. He said you needed care. He told us we’re to stay with you until you recover."
The words sent a chill coursing through me.
He had done this. But not out of kindness, not out of compassion, but because he decided it. Because even in my moments of joy, my reprieve, my reunion with the only people I trusted, he still held the strings. Still, I clutched Joan’s hand tighter. I couldn’t bring myself to reject the gift, poisoned as it was. My heart needed them, even if his shadow stretched over everything. I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand, trying to laugh through the sob lodged in my throat. "You don’t know... how much I prayed for this. For you. I thought I’d never..." My words collapsed into silence.
Joan pulled me into a shaky embrace, her hair brushing my cheek. "We’re here now. We’ll take care of you. Whatever happens."
Elara shifted closer, tucking the blanket tighter around me, her movements steady and purposeful like always. "Rest. You’ve been through too much already. Your body needs peace."
Peace. The word tasted foreign, almost mocking. Because even as their warmth surrounded me, my mind drifted to him. The psycho Alpha. He wasn’t here. His absence should have been a relief, but instead it only carved a deeper pit of unease in my stomach. Where had he gone? What did pack business mean for someone like him? The image flashed in my mind before I could stop it: the dungeon, the girl’s lifeless body crumpled on the floor, the stench of blood thick in the air, his laughter echoing as I fainted. And her words her broken story still haunted me. He had massacred her pack. Wiped them out like they were nothing more than ants beneath his boot. Was that where he was now? Slaughtering another pack, erasing more lives, all while I lay here under blankets and fresh cloths, guarded by the illusion of care? My chest constricted.
"Elie." Joan’s voice was soft but firm. "Don’t think too hard about him. Not now."
I met her gaze, startled. Could she read my thoughts that easily? Maybe she didn’t need to. Maybe my fear was etched so deeply into my face that anyone who knew me could see it. But she wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, even if I wanted to. His shadow followed me, slipping into every crack of my mind, twisting even moments of happiness into knots of dread. Still, I tried to push it aside, if only for their sake.
"When did you get here?" I asked, forcing my voice steady.
"This morning," Elara said, smoothing a damp cloth over my forehead. Her calm tone grounded me, pulling me back to the present. "He ordered us to your side before he left. Said you weren’t to be left unattended." Joan made a face, bitterness curling her mouth. "As if we’re guards, not friends."
"Shh," Elara warned quickly, glancing toward the door with wary eyes. Even with him gone, the fear of his ears lingered. Silence pressed around us, heavy and suffocating. I swallowed hard, my heart aching as I looked between them. They were here alive, unharmed for now but I knew better than to trust in permanence. Everything he gave, he could take away in a heartbeat. I wanted to ask them about the outside world. About the pack. About whether anyone dared whisper of the Alpha’s growing madness. But the words lodged in my throat. What if speaking them out loud condemned them?
Instead, I let Joan’s hand stroke mine, let Elara’s cloth cool my fevered skin, and pretended for just a fragile heartbeat that this was enough. But deep inside, the questions festered. What horrors was he unleashing now, while I sat in borrowed peace? And when he returned, what price would he demand for this fleeting happiness? I closed my eyes, clutching Joan’s hand tighter, and prayed that when he came back, he would not be drenched in blood. But I already knew the truth. He always came back drenched in blood.
The silence in the room should have been comforting, but to me, silence was never safe. In silence, my thoughts had too much room to wander. They wandered to where he might be now, what he might be doing. He had left earlier, saying only that he had "pack business" to attend to. Those words meant nothing good when they came from him.
Other Alphas said "pack business" when they were visiting allies, attending meetings, or handling disputes. But him? My Alpha. My nightmare. He said "pack business" when he meant slaughter. I couldn’t stop picturing the scene of that other pack, the one whose blood he spilled without a flicker of remorse. I saw their lifeless bodies every time I closed my eyes. I wondered if today, somewhere out there, another pack was learning too late what it meant to draw his attention.
I shivered and forced my focus back to the present, to the two omegas who sat with me now. Joan had her head bent, her fingers knotting in the blanket on her lap, while Elara’s hands wouldn’t stop trembling. Their presence should have brought me comfort he had sent them here to "keep me company while I recovered," as if companionship could erase the scars of what he had done but comfort was such a fragile thing in this place. It broke too easily.
I noticed Elara’s lips moving. At first I thought she was whispering to Joan, but when I leaned closer, I realized her words were fractured, broken things slipping past her lips without sound. Her eyes weren’t looking at the room at all. They were glassy, staring through me, locked on something only she could see.
"Elara?" I asked softly.
She flinched at her name, but didn’t look at me. Her body started shaking harder, as though her bones were trying to rattle out of her skin.
"Ellie?" Joan’s voice was small, uncertain. "What’s wrong with her?"
I already knew. I’d seen that look before in the mirror, when nightmares dragged me back into the places I wanted most to forget. Elara wasn’t here. She was somewhere else. Somewhere darker.
Her breath hitched, a broken gasp. "He—he told them to..."
My chest tightened. I knew exactly what memory had her trapped. It was the night he had ordered the guards to Rape her. She had made one mistake. I remembered the way his voice had filled the space, calm and cruel, as he pointed at Elara like she was nothing more than a discarded toy.
"Rape her," he had commanded the guards. "Do whatever you want. She belongs to me, and I decide when she is used."
Elara had crumpled, her body folding in on itself like paper under fire. I could still hear her scream thin, terrified, desperate. It was the kind of scream that stayed with you, gnawing at the edges of your mind. And me? I had stepped forward without thinking. My body had moved before my brain could catch up, before I could remind myself that I was weak, that I was nothing compared to him. I had thrown myself in front of her, my voice shaking but louder than I thought I was capable of. "Don’t touch her!
The had stood there, watching, his lips curled in a smile that wasn’t a smile at all. It was hunger. He had let it end there, pulling the leash back, not because of mercy but because he wanted to draw it out. He wanted to see how long it would take before we all shattered completely.
"Elara," I whispered now, snapping back to the present. I reached for her hand, but she jerked away as if my touch burned. Her eyes darted wildly, wet with tears that she didn’t seem to notice.
"I can still hear him," she sobbed. "He told them—he told them to—"
"I know," I whispered fiercely, leaning closer. "I know what he said. But it didn’t happen. I was there. I stopped them. Do you hear me, Elara? I stopped them." Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on Nov3lFɪre.ɴet
Her body shook harder. "Safe? You think we’re safe? None of us are safe. Not with him."
The words hit me like a blade. I couldn’t argue with her, because she was right. We weren’t safe. Not ever.
Joan made a broken sound, almost like a whimper. She pulled her knees up to her chest, curling into herself. "He’s going to come back," she whispered. "He always comes back. And when he does..
"Don’t," I snapped, harsher than I meant to. The air in my lungs burned. "Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it."
But I couldn’t stop my mind from finishing the thought. When he comes back, someone always bleeds.
I pulled Elara against me, even as she shook so hard I thought her bones might splinter. I tried to steady her breathing, tried to give her some of the strength I didn’t even have. My own chest was tight, my stomach knotted, but I couldn’t let her see. If I let go, if I broke, then we’d all fall apart. I stroked her hair, whispering over and over. "You’re not alone. You’re not alone. Not while I’m here." And then we heard footsteps.
A slow, heavy tread echoing in the corridor outside. All three of us froze. The sound was unmistakable. Purposeful. Controlled. Not rushed, not casual. Whoever it was wanted us to hear. My blood turned to ice.The sound was coming closer and Louder.
Elara whimpered, her trembling spiraling out of control. Her nails dug into my arm, leaving sharp crescents in my skin. "It’s him," she gasped. "Oh Moon Goddess, it’s him—"
"Don’t panic," I whispered, but my own voice shook so badly the words were almost a plea. "Don’t panic please.
Joan’s eyes were wide, wet with terror. Her entire body shook, but she didn’t make a sound. The fear was carved so deep into her she couldn’t even cry out. The footsteps stopped outside the door.
Then it went silent. My heartbeat roared in my ears.
Then, The doorknob turned.
The door creaked open. And there he was. The psycho Alpha. His shadow fell across the floor before his body did, long and sharp like a blade. His eyes found us instantly, gleaming with something unreadable. Something dangerous. Elara’s body went rigid against me, her lips parting in a silent scream. Then, all at once, she crumpled, her body collapsing in my arms.
"Elara!" I cried, shaking her, but she didn’t respond. She had fainted, fear dragging her under like a riptide.
Beside me, Joan let out a strangled sob. She clutched the blanket so tightly her knuckles turned bone white, her body trembling like a leaf caught in a storm.
And me? I was frozen. My hands shook, my heart thundered, but I couldn’t move. His presence filled the room like a suffocating fog, and all I could do was hold Elara’s limp body against me while Joan shook beside us.
The door clicked shut behind him.