Seren’s POV
“You shouldn't be looking at things that don't belong to you, Seren,” I whispered to myself, my voice shaking in the quiet bedroom.
I dragged the thick cream folder out from under Davan’s gym bag. The paper felt heavy, and the gold wax seal of the Pack High Council cracked under my thumb as I forced it open. I pulled out the first page, my eyes straining to read the text under the dim light of my phone screen.
Official Pack Transfer Agreement, the bold header read.
My breath caught as I read the lines below it. Subject Name: Seren Ashvale. Status: Unranked. Age: 19. Classification: Unclaimed female with no standing objections.
I shook my head, my mind spinning as I scrambled down to the bottom of the page. There was a bold number printed next to the official seal—a massive sum of pack credits. But it was the messy handwriting scribbled in the margin that made my breath freeze entirely.
Midnight Black GT Coupe. Deluxe interior. Delivery by Friday.
It was Davan’s handwriting. He didn't just sign me away; he traded me. He traded my life to buy a luxury car for Zola.
“He sold me,” I whispered, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. “He actually sold me.”
I flipped the page, my eyes blurring as I read the fine print. Recipients: The Vord Alphas. Caelum and Rysen Vord.
Everyone across the northern and southern territories knew those names. They were the twin Alphas, men who ran their territory with absolute brutality. They didn't take unranked girls. They didn't do charity.
A footnote at the bottom of the text made my skin crawl. Under Section 4 of Pack Law, an unranked female with no Alpha claim holds no legal standing to contest a signed transfer. Subject is classified as a transfer item. The Vord Alphas retain final, absolute authority over the subject once the signature is processed. Agreement finalized three weeks ago.
Three weeks. For twenty-one days, Davan had looked me in the eyes, eaten the food I cooked, slept in my bed, and knew he had already handed me over to executioners.
I dropped the paper back into the folder. A wild wave of panic crashed into my chest, and I took two fast steps toward the bed. I wanted to grab Davan by his throat. I wanted to tear him out of his sleep and force him to look at the paperwork.
“Wake up!” the shout died in my throat before I could even make a sound.
I stopped right at the edge of the mattress. My hands clenched into tight fists at my sides. I looked at his peaceful face, and a horrible truth hit me. If I woke him up, he would use that smooth, charming voice of his. He would make up a lie, tell me it was a mistake, or tell me he did it to protect me. And because I had loved him for two years, a pathetic part of me would listen. I would stay, and tomorrow he would hand me over to the Vord Alphas anyway.
“No,” I whispered, stepping backward out of the bedroom. “I am not staying for the execution.”
I grabbed my small canvas bag from the closet. I didn't take much. Two old sweaters, a pair of boots, and the small pouch of coins I had saved from my kitchen errands. I didn't write a note. I didn't leave a single word behind. There was nothing left to say to a man who thought I was worth the price of a car.
As I jammed the paperwork back into the folder to hide my tracks, my fingers caught on a second sheet of paper tucked deep inside. I pulled it out.
It was a completely different document, stamped with a dark crimson wolf crest.
Vord Territory Security Notice, the page read. Passive surveillance on Transfer Subject: Seren Ashvale. Log active for 21 days.
My heart took a sudden halt. I looked down at the bullet points below.
Route 1: Low-rank market district. Time: 08:00. No security detail.
Route 2: Graevel Pack clinic. Time: 14:00. Subject travels alone on foot.
Subject Description: Unshifted, zero defensive capability. Capture clear.
A cold sweat broke out across my neck. I dropped the paper. They had been watching me. For three whole weeks, while I walked to the market, while I delivered Davan's medicine, the Vord Alphas had eyes on me. I had never felt a single stare. I had never noticed a single shadow.
I wasn't just running away from a broken heart. I was already inside their net, and the doors were closing.
I grabbed my bag, sprinted down the stairs of the flat, and burst out into the freezing night air.
The rain had stopped, leaving the dirt roads of Graevel slick and empty. I didn't use the main roads. I ran through the dark alleys, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. Every shadow looked like a warrior. Every rustle of the wind made me want to scream.
By the time the sky turned a pale, bruised purple, I reached the edge of the eastern crossing.
The thick stone pillars of the Graevel border gate stood just fifty yards away. Past the boundary line, the dense, ancient trees of the neutral forest stretched out for miles. If I could just cross that line, I would be out of Graevel’s legal jurisdiction. I could disappear into the human towns.
I ran toward the open gate, the cool morning air filling my burning lungs. I could smell the different, fresh scent of the free forest just ahead. I was ten steps away. Five steps away.
A heavy, suffocating scent of pine and crushed iron slammed into my senses, so thick it made me choke.
Three massive wolves stepped out from the thick fog of the tree line, their giant paws hitting the dirt without a sound. Their fur was dark as midnight, and their golden eyes locked directly onto my face.
I spun around to run back, but my boots skidded in the mud. Two more wolves emerged from the bushes behind me, cutting off the path back to Graevel.
They weren't growling. They weren't attacking. They just stood there in a perfect, flawless circle, trapping me exactly where I stood.