Philipa’s Escape
1381 Words
“I need to leave this prison they call a home.”
Philipa’s voice was barely a whisper, yet it trembled with iron resolve.
“I will not wait for an egotistical father or mate—to decide what becomes of my life.”
She straightened, her fists clenching at her sides as clarity settled over her turbulent thoughts.
“The academy,” she murmured. “Yes! That’s where I belong.”
Ashbourne Academy was a all male school, dangerous, ruthless, and unforgiving—but it was also the only place where strength mattered more. Where she could sharpen her claws without apology.
Since Kaden had refused to attend, preferring comfort over challenge, the opportunity was hers.
“If he won’t go,” she said quietly, “then I will.”
Her gaze drifted toward the door. The problem was getting out.
Before, there had been only one guard stationed outside her room. Now—she could clearly hear three distinct voices, low and alert, pacing back and forth.
Her father was serious about locking her away.
Philipa exhaled slowly, forcing herself to think instead of panic. She paced the room once… twice… then stopped abruptly when her eyes landed on the open window.
Moonlight spilled in, pale and inviting.
A slow grin curved her lips. “Of course,” she whispered.
Moving silently, she climbed onto the window ledge, testing the distance. It wasn’t far—she’d jumped higher walls during training.
Without hesitation, she leapt. Her boots hit the ground in a quiet roll. She dusted her hands, adrenaline buzzing through her veins.
Silently—guided by years of sneaking out to train when no one believed she should—Philipa slipped through the dark parts of the estate.
She moved like a predator.
Guards loitered near corridors, servants passed with lanterns in hand, but none noticed the slim figure gliding between pillars and walls, timing each step with practiced precision. Her heart pounded, not from fear, but urgency.
Kaden’s chamber came into view. Just as she suspected. The door wasn’t properly locked. Typical of him.
Suppressing a scoff, Philipa eased it open and slid inside, closing it behind her without a sound.
The room smelled faintly of expensive oils and his arrogant scent.
She didn’t waste time. Moving straight to his study room, she pushed the door open and froze briefly. The place was unusually neat—no cobwebs, no dust—thanks to the ever-diligent cleaning maids. The lantern light from the hallway barely reached inside, leaving the room dim and shadowed.
With quick, efficient movements, she began raking through drawers and shelves with her hands.
Nothing. Her jaw tightened.
“Where the hell did Kaden keep those documents?” she muttered under her breath, frustration rising.
She searched faster, urgency creeping into her veins. Still nothing.
Swallowing a curse, she turned and strode back into his bedroom. Her gaze landed on the bed lockers. Quickly, she reached out for it.
The first one— Empty. “Damn it,” she whispered.
The second— Her breath caught. There it was. Her eyes lit up instantly.
She snatched the scroll, unrolled it just enough to scan the crest and seal.
Ashbourne Academy... Relief surged through her.
She rolled it back neatly, clutching it to her chest, and took one step forward— The door suddenly opened.
Light flooded the room. Philipa froze.
A lantern swung slightly as its holder stepped inside.
“Well, well, well…” Her blood ran cold.
“Isn’t this the confined bride?”
Kaden’s voice dripped with mockery as he shut the door behind him, arms folding across his chest. The lantern illuminated his smug grin—and her pale face.
“What are you doing in my room at this hour?” he drawled. “Surely you aren’t here to beg for mercy.”
Philipa swallowed hard, instinctively stepping backward as he advanced.
He took one step forward. She retreated.
Another step. Until her back hit the edge of the bed. His eyes never left hers.
He was enjoying this—every flicker of fear, every shallow breath. It was rare for him to see her cornered, and he savored it.
Then suddenly— She straightened. Met his gaze head-on. Kaden frowned.
The shift unsettled him. “What now?” he sneered. “Cat got your tongue?”
When she remained silent, he shrugged and turned as if to leave.
“Fine. I’ll just let Father know you were sneaking around my room instead of rotting in yours.”
“Wait!” Philipa grabbed his shirt.
In the struggle, the scroll slipped from beneath her skirt, and fell to the floor.
Both of them froze. Slowly, Kaden looked down. Then back at her.
A slow, vicious smirk spread across his face. “Well,” he said softly, “offense number three.”
He chuckled. “I wonder what punishment Father will add this time.”
Philipa’s heart slammed painfully against her ribs.
She was in deeper trouble than before.
She released his shirt abruptly, pick up.tje scroll, stepped forward, and closed the door firmly. Then she exhaled slowly, deliberately.
Kaden stared at her, confused.
She walked to the couch in the corner, sat down calmly, and beckoned him with a lazy wave of her hand.
“Sit.”
His brows rose in suspicion. She laughed quietly. Minutes ago he’d been cocky—now he hesitated. Such a weak Alpha, she thought bitterly.
He approached but refused to sit. “What are you playing at now?” he asked.
“I need your help,” Philipa said evenly.
His eyebrows lifted higher. “That’s new,” he remarked with a grin.
“I want to run away tonight,” she said. “I need you to help me get out—and cover for me for a few days until I reach Ashbourne Academy safely.”
He laughed. “And you think I’ll be part of that?” he scoffed. “I should report you right now.”
She smiled. “I suggest you don’t,” she said lightly. “Unless you want to miss out on the benefits.”
His grin faltered. “Benefits? What benefits?” he repeated slowly.
She leaned back. He has taken the hook.
“The real reason Father has always suppressed me,” she continued, “is because he fears I might challenge your claim to the throne.” Kaden stiffened.
“He’s right,” she added. “I planned to.” His frown deepened.
She laughed softly. “Relax. If you help me leave, I won’t.”
She leaned closer. “You’re celebrating me being married to Draven BloodFall,” she said. “But you don’t understand what that means.”
“What are you implying?” he snapped.
“If I become his mate,” she said slowly, “Draven gains the right to claim Crestmoon’s throne after Father’s death.”
Kaden’s nostrils flared. “No one takes what’s mine.”
She laughed outright. “You’re dreaming. Draven could kill Father if he wanted. And you wouldn’t survive him.”
Silence swallowed the room. Kaden’s jaw clenched as realization settled.
“If I run,” she continued, “that threat disappears. Father will renegotiate with Carlo. The pack survives. And you keep your throne.”
The wheels turned in his head.
Finally, he nodded. “What do I tell them?” he asked.
She smiled. Together, they went to his study room. She wrote a short letter—clear, final—stating she had fled to the human lands far east.
“Give this to Father in two days,” she said.
Kaden grinned inwardly. She had signed her own death warrant. If she survived the journey, Ashbourne Academy would finish her.
He handed his prepared uniforms, his own clothes that fit her frame. They returned through her window, gathered her savings and belongings, then slipped out again.
At the estate gate, Kaden distracted the guards. Philipa ran out.
"I wouldn’t see you to the pack’s border" He said.
She paused only once to look back. “Farewell,” she said quietly.
Kaden watched her disappear into the night, smirk widening. “Farewell, sister,” he murmured. “I’ll build you a decent grave.”
- Writer
