The Alpha I was Forced to Betray

Chapter 11 - Isla

The silence didn’t feel like silence.

It felt like pressure—like something sitting just beneath my skin, waiting, watching, reminding me that no matter how still everything looked on the outside, nothing about this was calm.

I stood in the middle of the room longer than I should have, not moving, not thinking, just trying to breathe without feeling like something was tightening around my chest.

This wasn’t real.

It couldn’t be.

But it was.

The bond hadn’t faded.

If anything, it felt stronger now—sharper, more defined, like the closer I was to him, the harder it pulled. It threaded through everything—my thoughts, my instincts, my body—in a way I didn’t know how to shut out.

I hated it.

Hated how aware it made me.

Of him.

Of where he was.

Of how close he still was, even with a door between us.

My jaw tightened.

No.

I wasn’t doing this.

I wasn’t staying here and pretending like I didn’t have a choice.

Because I did.

I always had.

Even when it didn’t feel like it.

I forced myself to move, my gaze sweeping the room properly this time, taking everything in with purpose instead of reacting to it.

The window came first.

Closed.

Locked.

Not surprising.

The drop wasn’t impossible, but it wasn’t something I could do quietly either—not without being seen, not without drawing attention, not without him knowing.

My stomach tightened at the thought.

Next—

The door.

I stepped closer, slower this time, listening carefully.

Nothing.

No voices. No movement.

But that didn’t mean anything.

He had already told me there would be someone outside.

And I believed him.

Nico didn’t say things he didn’t follow through on.

My hand hovered over the handle for a second before I forced myself to pull it back.

Not yet.

Too obvious.

Too predictable.

He would expect that.

I exhaled slowly, forcing my thoughts to settle, to slow down enough that I could actually think instead of react.

There was always another way.

There had to be.

My gaze shifted—

And landed on the second door.

The bathroom.

The one connected to his room.

My chest tightened slightly.

I hadn’t forgotten about it.

I had just been avoiding it.

Because that door didn’t just mean another exit.

It meant him.

Closer.

Too close.

The bond pulsed under my skin again, reacting before I could stop it.

I swallowed hard, forcing the reaction down.

No.

This was just another option.

That’s all.

It didn’t mean anything else.

It couldn’t.

I stepped toward it slowly, my movements careful, controlled, like if I moved too fast, I’d lose whatever grip I still had on myself.

My hand lifted.

Paused.

Just for a second.

Because something about this felt—

Wrong.

Not dangerous.

Not exactly.

Just… inevitable.

Like the moment I opened that door, everything would shift again.

Like I wouldn’t be able to pretend this wasn’t real anymore.

My fingers curled slightly before I forced them to relax.

It’s just a door.

That’s it.

Nothing more.

I turned the handle.

And this time—

It opened.

My breath caught.

For a second, I didn’t move.

Didn’t step forward.

Didn’t breathe.

Because I felt it immediately.

Stronger.

The bond.

Like whatever space had existed before was gone now, like there was nothing left dulling it, nothing left softening the pull.

I stepped inside slowly, my pulse picking up as the space shifted around me.

The bathroom was larger than I expected, clean and minimal, but none of that mattered.

What mattered—

Was the door on the other side.

My chest tightened as I moved closer, each step heavier than the last, like something in me already knew what was waiting before I reached it.

This was it.

If this door opened—

Then I could leave.

I could get out.

I could—

My hand lifted again, resting lightly against the handle.

And for a second—

Something else slipped in.

Memory.

Unwanted.

Uninvited.

The way things used to feel when being close to him wasn’t something I had to fight.

Before everything broke.

Before I broke it.

I pulled my hand back like I had touched something hot.

No.

Not now.

I wasn’t doing that.

I wasn’t thinking about that.

I forced my hand forward again, gripping the handle before I could stop myself.

And turned it.

The door opened.

Slowly.

Silently.

My breath caught as I stepped forward—

And stopped.

Because he was already there.

Leaning against the far wall of his room like he hadn’t moved since he left me, like he had been standing there the entire time, waiting.

His gaze lifted the second I stepped through the doorway, locking onto mine without hesitation.

No surprise.

No reaction.

Just awareness.

Like this was expected.

Like I was expected.

The bond snapped tighter instantly, sharp and undeniable, stealing what little air I had managed to hold onto.

For a second, neither of us moved.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t look away.

And in that stillness, it hit me—

This wasn’t an escape.

It never was.

This was the point.