Becoming the Alpha’s Possession

Rosalyn’s POV When they gave me the brush the blood was already dry. It stuck to the black streaks of the floor of stone, in thick, bumpy masses, like the hurt ground. I was kneeling in pain, with the cold draining my flesh, although I did not fret. Complaints were noticed. And noticing led to punishment. Take a scrub, someone said behind me. Then I took the brush in the bucket and touched it on the stone. My nose was filled with the smell of iron. My hands were burning and I was working slowly and cautiously because I could never do it in a hurry. A group of wolves stood nearby, leaning against the walls, watching as if this were entertainment. One of them said she was still leaving marks. Another who replied laughed because she is useless. Even housekeeping is beyond her. Then I lowered my head and rubbed harder. A boot nudged my side. “Hey. Did you hear me?” “Yes,” I said quietly. The laughter grew louder. “She talks now,” someone mocked. Cautionary, she could begin to believe that she is important. My hand slipped, and the brush scraped against my skin. Pain shot up my arm, but I swallowed the sound that tried to escape my throat. Blood joined the water in the bucket. “Look at that,” a voice said with amusement. “She bleeds just like the rest of us.” The laughter suddenly stopped. I felt it before I saw him. There was a change of air when Marcus Vale opened the door to the room. Conversations died. Bodies straightened. Wolves withdrew without being instructed. I did not look up. It was risky for me to look at him without his permission. “How long has this been here?” Marcus asked calmly. But no one answered. I could feel him closer to me and then I felt his fingers on my chin lifting my face whether I liked it or not. “Look at me, Rosalyn.” Marcus said. Then I do. His eyes were winter-blued and cold. There was no anger in them. No cruelty either. Just judgment. No wolf, he said, just as he meant it was cold outside. “Still breathing.” He released my face and stood. He continued: she serves her purpose. There is nothing useless like a broken thing. Someone laughed nervously. Marcus turned away. “Finish cleaning.” He walked away never to look again. The wolves lingered for a moment, disappointed that the show was over, then slowly drifted away. I stayed on my knees until the floor was clean again, my hands numb and shaking. By the time I was dismissed at last the night had fallen on the pack. I went back to the store room which they referred to as my sleeping-room. The walls were wet and the floor was hard though it was quiet. Quiet was rare. Quiet meant safety. I lay down huddled up against the wall, and shut my eyes. Sleep came lightly. A voice woke me. Surprisingly, she still is breathing. I froze. “…Marcus wants compensation. Three wolves were lost out of the northern pack. I put my ear nearer to the door. “There’s nothing of value left.” A pause. “The girl.” My chest tightened. “She has no wolf. No family. No one will ask questions.” A different voice was laughing at something. She will not stay long there after all. Silence followed. Then footsteps moved away. I sat up very slowly, and it seemed to me that my heart was racing in my chest. So this was my future. Not death. Not freedom. Only another cage, and passed, like an object. I crossed my arms and looked into the darkness. I reflected on all the days that I had lived. Every time I stayed quiet. Each time I said to myself that I survived. It was not. I stood. I shook my legs, yet they bore me. I had waited, until the pack had fallen asleep, until the night noises were monotonous and oppressive. Then I snuck away out of the room and the corridor. Torches burned low. The air smelled of ash and fur. A sentry was at the outer gate, leaning against the wall half waking up. I sat in the shadows, breathing slowly and steadily. As he moved his weight and turned his head away I ran. The earth sliced my feet as I walked over the clearing. Branches scratched my arms. My lungs were burning but I kept on. “Hey!, man,” there was a voice behind me. I did not look back. I was devoured in the forest. I ran to the point where I couldn't see and where my chest was about to open. The pack boundary was pining my flesh, and it urged me to turn back. I stepped through it anyway. The feeling was like a knife thrust into the flesh. Silence followed. I stood on the other side shaking and breathing in broken gasps, knowing one thing, without any doubt. Had they ever discovered me, I could not live twice. And that was what I thought of a long time before I got out of my chest. The wood across the border was not like that. The air was thinner. Quieter. No pack hum. No blind eyes staring at my back. I had longed to get this silence for years, but when I got it, it terrified me more than the noise had ever managed to do. My legs finally gave out. I huddled onto the floor and clasped my hands to my side, in an attempt to contain the trembling. My feet were bleeding. My hands were burned by the cuts that I did not even experience when I was running. None of it mattered. The fact that I was still moving forward meant that I was experiencing pain. Still alive. “Get up,” I said gently to myself. My voice sounded strange without walls to trap it. I pushed to my feet and started walking. I did not know where I was going. I only knew one rule. Do not stop. The forest thinned as dawn crept in. Pale light slipped between the trees, turning the ground silver. Birds began to sing, careless and free. I had never heard them this clearly before. I almost laughed. Almost. By the time I reached the road, my body was heavy and slow. I hid behind a cluster of trees and watched cars rush past, loud and fast. Humans. I had seen them before from a distance, but I had never stepped into their world alone. This was where survival changed. I waited until the road emptied, then crossed and kept walking until my legs refused to move anymore. A small bus stop appeared ahead, old and rusted, but empty. I sat on the bench and stared at my hands. They were shaking again. “Think,” I told myself quietly. “Just think.” I had no money. No name that mattered. No place to go. But I had one thing Silvermoon had never given me. Time. A bus pulled in with a loud hiss. The driver glanced at me, then away. He did not ask questions. I climbed on and sat near the back, keeping my head down. “Where to?” he asked. I hesitated. “Anywhere,” I said. He frowned but shrugged. “Get off at the last stop.” I nodded. The bus started moving. The forest disappeared behind us. Buildings replaced trees. Roads replaced dirt. I watched the world change through the dirty window, my reflection staring back at me like a stranger. For the first time, no one knew who I was. No one owned me. My chest tightened, not with fear this time, but something unfamiliar. Hope. The bus slowed near the edge of the city. I stood, my body stiff, and stepped off. The door closed behind me with a final hiss. I took one step forward. Then another. That was when it happened. A sharp pressure sliced through my chest. Not pain. Something deeper. Something is wrong. My breath hitched, and I grabbed the nearest wall to keep from falling. “What is this?” I said gently. The air around me felt heavy, charged, like the moment before a storm. My skin prickled. My heart beat too fast, then too slow. I had felt this once before. The night Marcus punished a traitor. The moment the Alpha’s power flooded the ground. An Alpha. Not Marcus. Someone else. Close…very close. I straightened slowly, dread pooling in my stomach as a single truth settled over me, cold and clear. Silvermoon was not the only pack in this city. And someone powerful had just felt me cross into their territory. I had escaped one cage, only to step into the shadow of another.