The Alpha Who Let Me Go

Chapter Four

Silas POV

I push past him before he can steer me away, my hand already closing around the handle of that door. Torin's protests die somewhere behind me, swallowed by the scent hitting me the moment the door swings open.

It's her scent. Soaked into the walls, into the floorboards, into the very wood of the door itself, layered so deep it could never simply be from one visit or two. This isn't a storage room. There are no boxes here, no shelves, nothing but a thin, stained mattress on the floor and a single small window set too high on the wall for anyone to reach without climbing. This is a cage someone built and dressed up with a polite word.

"This is not what it looks like," Torin says quickly, moving to close the door behind me.

"It looks exactly like what it is," I say, my voice dangerously quiet now. Ronan is snarling behind my ribs, demanding I do something far less controlled than simply standing here, cataloguing every terrible detail.

I'm still standing there, one hand pressed flat against the cold wood of the door frame, when I hear footsteps pounding down the hallway toward us, followed by a muffled, choked-off cry. I turn just in time to see Doran dragging Rhea by a fistful of her hair, her feet scrambling and slipping to keep pace with his furious stride, her carrier basket abandoned somewhere behind her on the floor.

"Please," she begs, voice cracking with real fear. "I only answered because he asked me directly I had to, you always said I have to answer an Alpha when he speaks to me"

"You won't see daylight for a week," Torin growls, wrenching himself past me toward them, reaching for the very door I've just discovered.

"Stop."

My voice isn't loud. I don't need it to be. It fills the entire hallway anyway, and all three of them freeze mid-motion, like figures caught inside a photograph none of them chose to pose for.

Doran's grip loosens on her hair, though he doesn't fully release her. "Alpha Silas. This is a family matter."

"I said I would find the front door myself when I left this morning," I reply, stepping fully into view, "and instead I found this room." I nod toward the open doorway behind me, toward the scent still clinging thick to every surface inside it. "Is this where you keep your sister when you believe your guests aren't watching closely enough?"

"She deserves worse than this," Torin says, though I catch the flicker of real fear now working its way behind his eyes, the calculation of a man realizing he may have miscalculated badly.

"Here is what happens next," I say, keeping my tone level despite the fact that Ronan is howling somewhere behind my ribs, urging me toward something far less controlled than words. "You need this trade agreement. Your pack falls further behind every season without it, and we both know it to be true. I am willing to give you what you need. But I'm adding a condition first, and it is not one I am willing to negotiate."

"Which is?" Torin's voice has gone tight, guarded, the practiced smile from earlier long since vanished from his face.

"Rhea comes with me."

He blinks, as though he's misheard me entirely. "She's a slave in this house, not a bargaining chip to be handed off to whoever asks nicely enough"

"She's an Alpha's blood," I cut in, sharper now, the words landing like a blow of their own. "And as of this moment, she is under my protection. You can accept my terms, or you can spend the coming season explaining to every pack across this region exactly why Obsidian Crest refused to trade with Ashwood, and let them draw their own conclusions about why."

I watch the calculation pass behind his eyes, greed weighing itself against pride, and greed winning, exactly as it always does with men like him, men who have never once had to sacrifice anything real to get what they want.

"Fine," Torin spits through clenched teeth. "Take her, if she matters so much to you. See how long you keep her once you learn what she truly is."

I don't look away from Rhea, who remains frozen against the wall beside that terrible little room, wide-eyed, a fear in her expression that I suspect has very little to do with me at all, and everything to do with sixteen years of learning that hope always comes with a price attached. "Go and pack your things," I tell her, gentling my voice as much as I know how to. "You're coming home with me tonight, and no one in this house will lay a hand on you again."

Doran's grip finally releases her entirely, and she stumbles a step, catching herself against the wall. She looks at me like she doesn't believe a single word I've just said, and honestly, given everything I've now seen inside these walls, I can't say I blame her for that.

Rowan, who has been waiting near the front entrance this entire time, meets my eyes when I finally step back into the main hall. He says nothing, but I can see the question written plain across his face what happened in there. I'll explain everything once we're clear of this house and its rot for good.

"I'll have the paperwork drawn up tonight," I tell Torin as I pass him in the hallway. "Signed and delivered by morning. Make sure your sister is ready to leave the moment I return."

He doesn't answer. He simply watches me go, arms crossed, jaw tight, already no doubt working out some new way to twist this to his advantage. Men like him always do. But this time, whatever scheme he cooks up, he'll be doing it without Rhea under his roof to punish for it.

I glance back once before I reach the front door. She's still standing there, small against the wall, watching me leave with an expression I can't quite name. Not hope, not yet. Something more careful than that. Something that hasn't decided whether it's safe to feel anything at all.