Chapter 79: Chapter 79
Elara’s breathing rasped beside me, sharp and uneven. She hadn’t moved since the lock had clicked, her wide eyes fixed on the door as though sheer fear might keep it shut. My legs had gone numb beneath me, my palms damp and trembling. I could still hear the echo of his footsteps outside the door, the sound fading but never gone. Minutes passed, or maybe hours. I didn’t know anymore. Every sound in the dark seemed to stretch until it broke apart. The house itself seemed to breathe, settling into a hush so deep I could hear my own heartbeat.
"Elie," Elara whispered, her voice a fragile thread. "Do you think he’s gone?"
"I don’t know." My throat ached from dryness. "Don’t move yet."
We stayed there, motionless. The moonlight that slipped through the narrow window cast a silver bar across the dusty floorboards, catching the faint movement of dust in the air. It looked like the world outside still existed calm, ordinary while we were trapped in some quiet nightmare.
A low sound broke the stillness the metallic groan of a latch turning. I froze. The door creaked open, slow and deliberate. No rush. Just a steady, confident motion. The kind that said whoever stood behind it was in complete control. My heart lurched painfully in my chest.
He stood there, framed in the half-light from the hallway. The Alpha. Y’all and terrifying in his quiet calm. His gaze slid across the room until it found me. And then he smiled that small, knowing curve of his lips that wasn’t really a smile at all.
"Well," he said softly. "This is interesting."
My mouth went dry. I couldn’t make a sound.
Elara whimpered beside me, her body shrinking in on itself, her trembling hands clutching my sleeve. The Alpha’s eyes flicked toward her, sharp and assessing, before returning to me.
"You’ve been busy, little omega," he murmured. "Whispering and sneaking around places you shouldn’t be."
I tried to speak, but the words stuck in my throat.
His expression didn’t change.
He took one step into the room, then another, the floor creaking beneath his boots. I backed away instinctively, every nerve in my body screaming at me to move, to flee, but I couldn’t.
"Tell me," he said, voice low and smooth. "What exactly did you think you were going to do?"
I swallowed hard. "I... I just wanted to see if Rose was—"
"Alive?" He finished for me, his tone soft, almost kind. "And what did you plan to do if she wasn’t?"
The question cut through me. I didn’t have an answer.
His eyes flickered, unreadable, and he sighed as if I’d disappointed him somehow. "You omegas," he said quietly, "you always think you can fix what’s broken. Always trying to save someone else. Never realizing that you’re the ones who need saving."
He turned then, slowly, deliberately, as though considering what to do next. I saw his profile in the dim light sharp jaw, cold eyes, that unnerving calm. When he finally faced me again, there was the faintest hint of something different in his expression.
"You want Rose free," he said. "You want Elara safe."
My breath caught. He knew. Of course he knew.
His voice lowered, almost a whisper. "Then follow me."
I blinked. "What?"
"Follow me," he repeated, more clearly this time. "Now."
Elara’s grip tightened painfully on my arm. "Ellie, don’t," she breathed, but I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t look away from him.
He watched me the way a cat watches a cornered mouse not angry, not impatient, just waiting.
"I will let them go," he said softly. "If you come with me."
The way he said it wasn’t cruel or demanding. It was worse. It was calm. Logical. As if it were the simplest equation in the world.
My pulse pounded in my ears. I could feel Elara shaking beside me, could hear her whispering my name over and over, begging me not to listen, but her voice was distant. Faint. The only thing I could hear clearly was his.
The Alpha turned and walked toward the door, pausing in the threshold without looking back. "You have until I count to three."
My knees nearly buckled.
He began to count. "One."
The air seemed to grow thinner. My chest tightened.
Elara’s hands clutched at my arm. "Ellie, please," she hissed. "Don’t go-"
"Two."
He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. Every syllable rolled out evenly, like he was reciting something inevitable.
I looked at Elara then her pale face, her wide, terrified eyes and I knew that staying would be worse. He wasn’t bluffing. Whatever game he was playing, it always ended on his terms.
"Three."
I was already moving.
My legs felt heavy, my steps uneven, but I forced them forward. The floor creaked underfoot, echoing in the silence. The Alpha didn’t turn; he simply stepped aside as I passed, the faintest curve on his lips betraying that small, satisfied smile.
Behind me, Elara made a sound half sob, half plea but I couldn’t stop. If I looked back, I might not move again.
The corridor outside was dim, lit only by the flickering lanterns mounted along the wall. The shadows stretched long and narrow, bending around corners, swallowing the edges of the light.
He walked ahead of me, unhurried. His stride was measured, confident, as though every step was part of a pattern only he could see. I followed a few paces behind, my pulse racing, my thoughts spiraling. What was I doing?
What did he mean by letting them go? Was this a trick?
His voice came suddenly, breaking the silence. "You always look like you’re thinking too much."
I jumped. He didn’t turn around, but his tone carried amusement soft, mocking, cutting through the air like silk.
"I can practically hear it," he continued, "the way your mind races. Trying to find meaning where there isn’t any. It’s almost adorable."
My fingers curled into fists at my sides. I kept my head down, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear, but he must have sensed it anyway.
"Relax, Ellie," he murmured. "If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done it long ago."
That did nothing to ease the panic clawing at my chest.
He stopped suddenly. I almost ran into him. When he turned to face me, his expression was unreadable eyes half-lidded, mouth set in a faint, detached smile.
"Tell me," he said quietly. "Do you believe I’m a monster?"
I didn’t answer.
His smile deepened slightly, as though my silence amused him. "You do," he said. "I can see it in your eyes."
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And yet you follow me."
The words made my skin crawl. He turned away again, walking down the corridor, and I followed not because I wanted to, but because I couldn’t see another choice. My legs felt like they were moving on their own, drawn forward by the quiet rhythm of his steps and the cold dread sitting heavy in my stomach.
We passed the main hall, the empty dining room, the grand staircase that led to the upper floors. The house was silent except for the creak of old wood and the faint hiss of the lanterns. Every corner seemed to watch us.
Finally, he stopped in front of a tall door at the end of the hall. He didn’t open it. He just turned to look at me again, eyes dark and unreadable.
"This is where your loyalty gets tested," he said softly. "You wanted to save them. Let’s see how far that loyalty goes."
I didn’t understand what he meant, but I nodded because my voice refused to work.
He smiled again faint, cruel, and cold. "Good girl."
Then he turned and walked away, leaving me standing in front of the door, frozen, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst.
Behind me, the echo of his steps faded into silence.
And I realized, with a shiver that crawled down my spine, that he’d never needed to touch me to trap me again.
The cold marble floor of the Alpha’s wing echoed under our footsteps, each sound sharp as a knife in my ears. I followed him because I had no choice. My feet were heavy, dragging, as though I were walking through water. Behind us, the doors to the cell-like room where Rose and Elara were trapped had slammed shut with a metallic clang. The sound still rang in my mind like a church bell tolling at a funeral.
I kept my head bowed, hands clenched at my sides. My nails bit into my palms. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. But my eyes were already wet. I could feel the tears threatening to spill, a hot blur clouding my vision.
"Faster," he said casually, without looking back. His voice was not raised, but it was colder than the hallways of this cursed packhouse.
I stumbled forward, my heart hammering. My lips trembled as I whispered silently to God, the only place I could still turn. Please, please, show me a way back. Show me a way out of this nightmare. Please help me.
He must have heard the faint sound of my whisper because he turned slightly, and that smile that awful, knowing smile curved on his lips. "Praying?" he murmured, his tone almost curious. "Do you think anyone’s listening to you here?"
I flinched but didn’t answer. My throat was too tight.
We turned down another corridor, this one darker, the light from the sconces dim and flickering. I thought of Rose and Elara, still locked away. I thought of Joan, probably crying in the omegas’ quarters by now. My chest ached with a heavy, pulsing guilt. They’re trapped because of me.
He walked ahead, his boots soundless compared to my slippered feet that scuffed against the marble. Then, without warning, he stopped. I nearly walked into his back.
"You know," he said lightly, "you’ve caused quite a stir since you came here. So fragile. So noisy. Always plotting." He chuckled a sound like glass breaking. "I almost admire it."
I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from sobbing.
He started walking again and I followed, trembling, praying harder. God, please. Please make him let them go. Please help me go back to my life. Back to my mother. Back to my old world.
We reached a long hallway lined with doors. He stopped at one and opened it. Inside was a small room no windows, only a single chair in the middle. He motioned for me to enter.
"Sit," he said.
I obeyed, moving like a puppet on strings. The chair was cold against my skin. I stared at the floor.
He leaned against the doorframe, watching me. "You really think you can go back to your old life?" he asked softly. His tone was strange now softer but still mocking. "Do you even remember what it was like?"
I squeezed my eyes shut and the tears spilled freely now. Images flickered behind my eyelids my mother’s smile, the smell of our tiny kitchen, the way the sun had streamed through my bedroom window in the mornings. Please, God, let me wake up there. Let me wake up at home. Please, I don’t want this anymore.
He chuckled again, low and dark. "Pray all you want. Scream all you want. Nothing leaves these walls."
I bent forward, burying my face in my hands. My sobs came quiet and shaky, my whole body trembling. It wasn’t just fear anymore it was exhaustion, a bone-deep ache of despair.
"I just want to go home," I whispered aloud now. "Please. I just want to go back to my life."
He tilted his head at me, that smile still faint on his lips. But he didn’t answer this time. He just stood there, arms folded, as though he were waiting to see how long I’d keep begging.
And I did. I kept whispering prayers to a God I wasn’t even sure could hear me in this place. Over and over, a single plea rose from my lips: Please show me the way out. Please let me go back.