Alliance of Shadows, Book 5: LEIF

No Goodbyes, No Regrets

With pen in hand, my darling babies asleep—protected by family who adored them regardless of their origins—and my man securely locked in his study with his father and mother while his brother monitored the yard, I let out a long, drawn-out sigh.

A gust of energy rippled through the house as someone shattered the magic barriers that had been erected. My pulse quickened. Only someone deeply familiar with Dreson and Kaden could break through their defenses. Sure enough, Neil stalked into the hallway, his gaze sharp and searching until it landed on me.

"Where is he?"

"In ’is office," I answered, sipping my tea. The warmth steadied my hands, though tension still coiled in my chest.

He eyed me darkly. "You holding?"

"As best I can, aye," I muttered, flipping to the next page in my book. "Gettin’ more outta my system and onto paper. Better for me."

"Whatever works, man." Neil nodded, his stance unwavering. "I got Warriors stationed all around the manor, so rest easy, Leif. You’re part of my crew now, and we protect our own." His voice carried more than quiet strength. It held an unspoken promise. Then, without another word, he strode down the hall toward Dreson’s office.

A sharp laugh escaped me when Rayna let out a startled squeal at the sight of the six-foot-tall Alpha King storming through the barricaded doors. I shook my head, exhaling slowly as I picked up my pen again and began to write.

Three days after I was placed in the boys' home, I realized I couldn't stay. I was in danger just being in the building. Someone I knew worked there.

He was a councillor—a man I should have been able to trust.

Yet, as I stood at the threshold of the office I needed to enter, my body refused to move. The air felt too heavy, the space around me too small. I couldn't face him. Not after what he'd already done.

Here, in the home, he played the role of the perfect gentleman. Someone kids could talk to for advice, for guidance.

In my mind, he was a nightmare given shape. One of the laughing faces that haunted not only my dreams but my waking moments too.

His gaze lifted from whatever he had been working on, settling on me in the doorway. My stomach twisted. I knew that smile—the practiced warmth, the welcoming expression.

"How wonderful ’tis tae see ya back on yer feet, Leif," he said.

Fear rooted me to the spot, then burst loose in a choked scream. The sound barely left my throat before he grabbed my shirt, yanking me toward his office. My breath hitched as I stumbled forward, feet dragging against the floor.

Then, the sharp creak of a door opening sliced through the moment.

He froze. His grip loosened. Across the hall, the Headmistress stood in the doorway. The councillor’s face paled.

I turned to the woman who ran the house, her expression shifting from shock to anger. The Marm stood rigid, sharp-eyed, her graying hair twisted into a strict bun—the kind that had never seen a moment of carelessness. She was neat, structured, built from routine and discipline. Not cruel, exactly. But hardened. The boys’ home had stale air, damp clinging to corners, the scent of old paper and harsh disinfectant barely masking what lay beneath.

"What’s goin’ on ’ere, Councillor Ranes?" Her voice cut through the hallway like a snapped branch.

"Headmistress, I was tryin’ te calm ’im. ’E’s simply havin’ an episode," he replied smoothly.

"Nay, please," I begged, voice cracking. "’E’s a monster! ’E’s goin’ t’ ’urt me!"

Confusion flickered in her eyes, but only for a moment. Then, understanding settled in.

"Ah, this is th’ lad that was terribly abused after bein’ kidnapped. Go on back te yer room, child. We can talk te ye another time."

"Thank you," I whispered, breath shallow as I bolted for the stairs, taking them two at a time. The lie about being kidnapped hurt more than knowing the truth, though I couldn't explain why.

Downstairs, her voice rang sharp in the hall, berating him for the way he'd handled the situation. I could hear every word, but none of it mattered. My hell was far from over.

That night, I lay on my bed, staring at the cracked ceiling, the faded paint curling at the edges. The air was thick with silence, the kind that weighed down the chest, pressing thoughts deeper instead of easing them away.

Who was I kidding?

Sleep was nothing but an old memory now. My mind churned, restless with questions—questions I knew had no answers. Except one.

I needed to run.

The thought settled in my chest like a cold stone, pressing against my ribs. My fingers tightened around the worn fabric of my blanket before I shoved it aside. The floorboards groaned under my shifting weight, whispering old secrets no one cared to remember.

Grabbing my bag, I stuffed in clothes, whatever else I could get my hands on. For the first time in my life, I was making a choice entirely on my own, and I wasn’t turning back.

Opening the chest at the foot of the bed, I pulled out the bag of snacks I'd secretly taken from my parents' house the day Child Services moved me. The worker had enough sense to let me take some personal items, though none of my clothes fit anymore. While she spoke with them in the living room, I slipped through the side passage, bypassing the main stairs that led up to the bedrooms.

The room they put me in at the home was on the second floor, but outside the window stood a tree. Its branches thick enough to hold what weight was on my person. Wasn’t much, honestly.

Slinging my bag across my body, I climbed onto the branch, the bark rough against my palms. Shimmying down, I dropped to the ground with a thud. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs for a split second, and I flattened myself against the dirt, listening, waiting. Every muscle in my body tensed, but the night remained silent. No footsteps. No voices. No doors creaking open.

After a beat or two of nothing but silence, I pushed myself up and started running. Darting through the shadows of the night, I didn’t look back. Not even to say goodbye. Whatever was out there, I’d rather face it than the hell I’d been living in.

Another year passed before I even realized it. This time, it was on my own terms, however much I regretted them. But regret didn’t matter—not when survival was the only thing keeping me moving.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

I survived on food I took from nearby shops, sometimes brazenly taking it right off their outdoor tables when the customer left. I never touched any of the money left for the servers. So they couldn’t say I was stealing funds. As winter closed in, I found a small hut to stay in. The wind tore through the gaps terribly, but it was better than no shelter at all.

Then, the spring before my fourteenth birthday, the owner of one of the shops caught me red-handed. He had walked in as I was trying to sneak into the kitchen for scraps.

The man hit me hard enough to make my ears ring, and for a moment, I saw stars. Suddenly, someone shouted for him to back off or die. Gentle hands pushed my hair from my face, and this new person gasped.

"Son of a b***h! They lied te me!" The man holding me snarled.

I started to shake, not knowing what to do or how to react. My eyes widened in fear.

"Easy, easy," he said. "It’s alright, Leif. I got ye, boyo."

Throwing a few banknotes at the owner, the man carried me out to a waiting car and put me inside. Getting into the driver’s seat, he turned the key and started driving.

Still dazed from the hit, I asked, "Where’re ye takin’ me?"

"Te a damn hospital," he growled out. "They lied te me! Me own bloody sister lied te me! They said ye were safe at our parents’ place, but ye weren’t there. Mam an’ Dad didn’t even know ye existed! Hell, if it hadn’t been for that lady who lives next te yer parents, I wouldn’t have known."

No one in my mother's family knew about me?

"Please don’t send me back there," I pleaded, "All they do is ’urt me because I like boys. I don’t want te be abused anymore."

He winced at my words. "Leif, me name’s Harper Rosen. I’m yer mam’s older brother. None o’ us had heard o’ ye till th’ lady from Child Services came callin’. If ye don’t want te go back, I’ll take ye te live at th’ Sage Towers till ye’re ready te leave."

Sobbing, I broke down and told him what my parents had done. I was careful to leave out the whole selling me off bit along with a few other things. I wasn't ready to face that nightmare just yet.

Getting in to see the doctor, I was left in the room for a minute as he talked to my uncle. When they came in, Uncle Harper stayed throughout the exam along with a nurse. A ruckus in the hall drew our attention as I got redressed.

Standing, Uncle Harper went to find out what was going on. I could hear him arguing with someone. Inching closer to the door, I listened as he ripped into my parents while my mother told him he had no right.

I opened the door as my father pulled her back. They hadn’t noticed me. Not yet.

"Just take th’ little c**k jockey, Harper. Don’t ye ever darken me doorstep again," I heard my father snap.

Harper looked down at me and smiled once they were finally gone.

"Ye’re safe now, Leif," he said gently.

The worst part was, I actually believed him.