Escaping My Obsessive Alpha

CHAPTER 5: A New Beginning, A New Name

Claries’s Point of View

The morning sunlight seeped through the thin curtains, warm and gentle, nudging me awake. For a second, I forgot where I was. The unfamiliar ceiling, the humming of cars outside, the faint smell of cinnamon and paint it all reminded me that this wasn’t Silvercrest. This wasn’t home.

And yet… it was the first place that felt safe since the night everything changed.

I pushed the blankets aside and rose quietly. My body felt strangely light, as if the run from last night still lingered in my muscles. My wolf was awake too, pacing softly in the back of my mind, cautious but calm.

Voices drifted faintly from the kitchen. My aunt’s voice sharper than most, clipped and firm but not unkind. The kind of voice that carried both experience and warnings.

I stepped out of the room, smoothing my borrowed shirt before walking into the kitchen.

She was already setting plates on the table. Toast, eggs, some fruit. Human food. Simple but comforting.

“You’re awake,” she said without looking up. “Sit.”

I obeyed immediately.

For a moment, we ate in silence. She studied me occasionally over her glasses, as if trying to read every thought running through my head. Her expression wasn’t hostile...just guarded, like someone who had learned to trust carefully.

When she finally spoke, her voice was level.

“Last night, you said you left home because something happened. I didn’t press you then because it was late. But I need the truth now, Clary.”

I exhaled slowly, steadying myself.

“I can’t go back,” I said softly. “Not right now. I just… I need time. And I want to finish school here. I want something different.”

My aunt’s eyes narrowed slightly, but not in anger...more like she was evaluating the weight of my words.

“Different is expensive,” she said. “Dangerous too, depending on what you’re running from.”

I forced myself not to flinch.

“I’m not asking for much. Just a place to stay while I figure things out.”

She tapped her fingers lightly against the table. Then she sighed a long, resigned sigh that felt like the beginning of something new.

“You’re family,” she muttered. “And I can’t throw family onto the street. But you’ll explain everything eventually. Little by little.”

Relief washed through me. “I will. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she said, pointing a fork at me. “There are rules. You don’t bring trouble to my door. You don’t shift anywhere near this neighborhood. And you keep a low profile. I left the pack life for a reason.”

I nodded quickly. “I understand.”

“Good.” She sat back. “If you’re serious about school, I’ll contact someone who handles records for supernatural citizens living abroad. They can arrange documents, transcripts, that sort of thing.”

My breath caught. “Really?”

She shrugged. “I have connections. Old ones. I’ll see what I can manage.”

The conversation lightened after that. Not warm, not soft but steadier, like a new bridge being built carefully, one plank at a time.

By midday, she had already made two calls. Quiet, coded conversations that I only caught fragments of. Words like placement, documentation, and discretion stood out.

Afterward, she handed me a small card.

“You’ll need this,” she said. “Money for food, clothes, things to blend in. Don’t draw attention.”

My eyes widened. “You’re giving me...”

“It’s a prepaid card,” she cut in. “Not unlimited. Don’t act like you’ve never seen a*****e before.”

I smiled sheepishly.

She huffed as if she regretted helping already. “Go. Explore the city. Learn how humans work. You can’t start school acting like you’ve never talked to a human before.”

So I stepped outside, the card tucked safely in my pocket.

Phoenix City felt different in daylight, louder, faster, full of movement. Cars honked, music played from storefronts, people carried bags as if rushing through miniature worlds of their own.

I wandered through the streets, taking it all in. I visited a small clothing store with mannequins dressed in bright human fashion, a café buzzing with chatter, a bookstore stacked from floor to ceiling.

Everything felt overwhelming and thrilling at the same time.

No palace guards.

No pack warriors.

No rules whispered through mind-link.

Just… life.

Pure, chaotic, human life.

For the next few days, I explored the city a little more each day. I helped my aunt around the house. I learned how to use a phone properly. I memorized bus routes.everything since neutral it's nice.

And slowly, the unfamiliar began to feel almost normal.

Then, one morning, a week after my arrival, my aunt placed a sealed envelope in front of me.

“It’s done,” she said. “You’re enrolled. Classes start tomorrow. use the card I gave you to get yourself some school stuff.”

My chest tightened with excitement and fear.

“Really?”

“Really,” she replied, adjusting her glasses. “And Clarice… don’t waste this. Humans may be different, but opportunities are the same everywhere. Work hard. Stay Sharp.”

I nodded firmly.

The next day , I stepped onto the campus, my new beginning.

Tall buildings, wide lawns, groups of students laughing together, others rushing to their next class. The scent of humans filled the air, mixed with ink, paper, and cheap cafeteria food.

For the first time in my life, nobody knew my name.

Nobody knew my pack.

Nobody expected anything from me.

I wasn’t Silvercrest’s daughter.

I was simply… Clarice.

And as I took my first step toward orientation, a single thought whispered through me:

Maybe, just maybe, I could build a life here.

and also maybe I might get to make some new friends not like I had one in the first place and make connection just like those novels I read

"this is gonna be fun".