Chapter 78

Chapter 78: Chapter 78

Sleep never came that night.

No matter how tightly I shut my eyes, I kept seeing that smile the Alpha’s calm, knowing smirk as I fled like a frightened rabbit. It wasn’t just his face that haunted me; it was the quiet certainty behind it. He knew everything. Every thought. Every fear. And yet, even knowing that, my mind couldn’t stop circling back to Rose.

What if she was still alive? What if she was hurt, locked somewhere in that room, waiting for help that would never come?

I sat upright on my narrow cot, hugging my knees, the faint light of dawn leaking through the high windows of the omegas’ quarters. Around me, the others slept in uneasy silence, their breaths shallow, their faces drawn tight even in rest. Joan was beside me, curled up but not asleep—I could tell from the way her fingers twitched now and then, restless even in the dark.

"Elie," she whispered suddenly, without opening her eyes. "You’re still awake."

I froze, my heart skipping. "I can’t stop thinking," I whispered back.

Joan turned toward me, her tired eyes catching what little light there was. "Don’t. Whatever it is, stop thinking about it. For your own good."

But I shook my head. "She’s still there, Joan. Rose." Her name felt heavy in my throat. "You saw her face when they took her. She didn’t even understand what was happening."

"She knew," Joan said softly. "We all knew. We just pretend not to."

That broke something inside me. I pressed my palms to my face, my voice shaking. "She doesn’t deserve that. None of us do."

Joan didn’t argue. She just sighed, long and deep, and for a moment neither of us spoke. The silence stretched between us like a wound that refused to close.

Then I said it. "I’m going to get her out."

Joan’s eyes snapped open. "What?"

"Elara said once that there’s a storage cellar under the west wing. If there’s one, there might be another, connecting to the Alpha’s quarters." I lowered my voice to barely a breath. "If we can find it, maybe we can reach her."

"Ellie, no." Joan sat up fully now, her whisper sharp with panic. "Do you even hear yourself? You can’t save her. You’ll only get yourself killed."

I didn’t respond. My hands trembled as I clutched the thin blanket. "Then I’ll die trying."

"Elie—"

"I mean it." My voice cracked, but I forced it out. "He already owns everything. Our time, our breath, our fear. I can’t sit here and do nothing while he-I couldn’t finish the sentence. The words burned too much.

The room fell quiet again. Joan looked at me for a long time, her lips pressed tight, torn between loyalty and terror. Finally, she muttered, "You’re insane."

"Maybe," I said softly. "But at least I’ll be insane for the right reason."

For a while, the only sound was the distant drip of water from the pipes, and the faint creak of the wooden beams as the house shifted in the cold. I didn’t realize Elara was awake until she spoke from her cot near the wall.

"If you’re going to do something that stupid," she said hoarsely, "you’re not doing it alone."

I turned, startled. Her face was pale in the dim light, her eyes heavy but determined. "Elara-"

She lifted a hand. "Don’t waste time arguing. If you really think there’s a way, I’ll help you find it."

Joan let out a small, bitter laugh. "Both of you are going to get us killed."

"Then don’t come," Elara said simply, pulling herself up to sit beside me. "You can tell them we forced you to stay behind."

Joan’s jaw tightened. "As if that would save me."

We didn’t speak for a long time after that. We just sat there, three omegas in the dark, breathing the same stale air, feeling the same ache in our bones. Somewhere outside, a wolf howled low, distant, haunting.

It felt like an omen.

When the sun began to rise, we pretended to rest. Pretended to eat. Pretended everything was normal. The others didn’t notice much; they had learned long ago to look away from anything that smelled of trouble.

But my heart raced faster with every passing hour. I replayed the layout of the pack house in my head: the corridors, the cellars, the way the guards rotated at dusk. Every corner, every crack.

That night, after the lights went out and the omegas drifted into their uneasy sleep, I lay awake again, counting the seconds between the guards’ footsteps outside. The rhythm became my pulse slow, then fast, then gone. When the silence stretched too long, I sat up.

"Elara," I whispered.

She stirred immediately. "Now?"

"Now."

Joan groaned softly. "You two are mad."

"Then pray for us," I said.

She rolled over, refusing to look at us, but I could tell she was crying silently. We moved quietly, slipping out of our cots, our bare feet brushing the cold stone floor. The night was heavy and still, the air thick with the faint smell of wax and smoke. Every creak felt like thunder in my ears.

We made our way to the lower hall, past the laundry rooms and kitchens. The door to the storage cellars loomed ahead, old and half-rotted, a relic no one paid much attention to anymore. Elara pulled it open with a slow groan of rusted hinges, and the smell of dust and damp air greeted us. A narrow staircase descended into darkness. My stomach twisted, but I stepped forward first, clutching the small lantern Elara had found. The light flickered weakly, barely cutting through the shadows. The walls were damp stone, slick beneath my fingertips. The sound of dripping water echoed faintly from somewhere deep inside.

"This place is huge," Elara whispered.

"Then there has to be something," I said, though my voice trembled.

We searched in silence, moving through narrow passages stacked with old crates, sacks of grain, rusted tools, and barrels that smelled faintly of wine. Rats scurried in the corners. Every sound made me flinch. At one point, we found a section of wall that looked newer, the stones darker than the rest. Elara tapped it lightly. It sounded hollow.

"Here," she breathed.

We crouched beside it, running our fingers along the edges. There was a gap small, almost invisible but enough to suggest something hidden. Maybe a sealed tunnel. Maybe a passage that hadn’t been used in years.

"Elie," Elara whispered, excitement trembling in her voice. "This could be it."

My heart pounded. For the first time in days, hope flickered like the flame of our lantern.

But before I could speak, a sound froze us both.

Footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. Above us. I snuffed the lantern immediately, plunging us into darkness. My breath caught in my throat as we pressed ourselves against the wall, motionless. The footsteps moved across the floor above, steady and calm, like whoever it was already knew where we were. The boards creaked faintly under the weight. Then silence.

"Elie..." Elara’s voice was barely a whisper.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My body felt like it was carved from ice.

Then, faintly so faintly I could almost believe I imagined it a soft laugh echoed from above.

I shouldn’t have gone. I shouldn’t have thought I could get away with it.

But now, as I crouch behind a rickety shelf in the dark, the taste of my own desperation is thick in my mouth. My heart is hammering in my chest, the blood pumping so loudly I swear it’s all I can hear. I can feel the walls closing in on me, like the pack house itself is suffocating me.

"Elara," I whisper, my throat raw. My breath comes too fast. My skin is clammy, my hands shaking violently. "Did you hear that?"

Elara, who is crouching beside me in the cold, damp room, presses her hand to my arm. I don’t look at her I can’t. I just need to breathe. "Maybe it’s nothing," she murmurs, but even she doesn’t sound convinced.

But we both know what it was. The sound of a lock. A metal key turning. The door. He locked it. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to shake off the panic that’s already clawing its way up my throat. He knew. He knew we were coming. The Psycho Alpha always knows.

"Elie..." Elara’s voice breaks me from my thoughts. Her fingers are cold where they touch my wrist. "What are we going to do?"

I can’t answer. My mind is a blur of fear and thoughts crashing together like thunder. He had already locked us in. The only door, the only way out is sealed tight. He’s watching us, waiting for us to try something stupid, something that will give him the excuse to-"

I press my hands to my face, trying to steady my breathing, but it’s no use. The tightness in my chest, the cold dread gnawing at my stomach he’s toying with us. And I don’t even know how to get out.

"Elara, stay quiet," I say, my voice barely a whisper. The quietest breath of air slipping through my lips. I can’t let him know we’re here. But the truth is, I don’t think we’re hidden at all. The very walls feel like they’re closing in on us, and I can almost feel his eyes burning into the back of my neck.

There’s no real hiding from him. I know that now.

I glance at Elara, watching her shoulders shudder with every breath she takes, and I know she feels it too. She’s just as terrified as I am, but there’s nothing she can do. There’s nothing either of us can do.

I press my ear to the door, straining to hear.

The footsteps come again slow, deliberate. They’re not distant anymore. They’re right outside the room, as if the Alpha is standing in the hallway, just beyond the door. The sound of his boots tapping on the floor is so crisp, so real. Each step makes my stomach flip. He’s coming closer, taking his time. Letting the fear build inside us.

I hold my breath, praying he won’t notice the way my body trembles.

A soft chuckle drifts through the door. Just a little noise, barely audible, but it’s enough to send a shiver crawling up my spine.

I know that laugh. I’ll never forget it. It’s him.

"I told the guards not to let anyone in," his voice slides through the crack like silk. It’s quiet, calm, and I can’t help but feel the weight of it pressing down on me. "But I didn’t say anything about letting you out."

Elara clutches my sleeve, her fingers digging into the fabric like a vice. Her breathing is too sharp, too fast, but I can’t stop her. I can’t stop either of us. We’re trapped. Trapped like rats.

"Please, Elie," she whispers, her voice thick with fear. "We have to get out of here. We have to go."

I swallow hard, my throat aching. I can’t even bring myself to answer. What do I say to that? How do I tell her that we can’t get out? Not unless we’re willing to die trying. The footsteps stop.

The silence that follows is suffocating. The air feels thinner now, like it’s been sucked out of the room. My lungs burn with every breath, but still, I remain frozen.

Then, I hear it. The sound of the door handle turning.

A soft metallic click. He’s opening it. I jump back, my heart leaping into my throat.

"Elara," I whisper, "We need to hide. Now."

We scramble for cover in the darkness, but there’s nowhere to go. No room to maneuver. No way to escape. The walls are closing in faster than I can think.

But the door doesn’t open.

It stays shut. The metal lock remains firmly in place.

I can’t stop the relief that floods my chest, but it’s quickly smothered by confusion. What’s he doing? Why didn’t he come in?

"Elie," Elara’s voice is shaky, her fingers trembling where they rest on my arm. "What’s happening? Why isn’t he coming in?"

I don’t answer. My mind is working overtime, trying to figure out what the hell is going on. But then I hear it the sound of another key, sliding into the lock. My heart stops.

He’s locked us in.

"Elara," I say, my voice low, "He’s locking us in. We’re trapped."

I can hear Elara’s breath catch. She’s trying to stay quiet, but she’s losing it. And so am I. I feel it in the pit of my stomach, that awful sinking feeling that I can’t shake off. I stagger backward, my hands on the cold stone wall, trying to ground myself. But my thoughts are spiraling, my pulse quickening as the realization sinks in. There’s nowhere to go. He’s got us.

Outside, I hear the sound of his footsteps again, faint at first, then louder, like he’s walking further down the hall.

But I can’t relax. I know better than that. He’s playing with us. Making us think we’re safe when we’re not.

"Don’t look at the door," I whisper to Elara, my voice tight. "Don’t let him know we’re still here."

We waited in the dark, the only sounds the beating of our hearts and the muffled creaks of the house around us. I can feel Elara’s body pressed close to mine, her breath shallow, her hands shaking in the quiet.

It feels like hours before the door handle creaks again. This time, there’s no hesitation. It turns, slowly.

The door pushes open just a crack, and I catch a glimpse of a shadow. The faintest outline of a figure standing in the hallway.

I don’t dare move. And then, from somewhere behind the door, I hear that voice again low, cold, and full of amusement.

"You can’t hide from me, little omega."