Chapter 3

I had three days to decide my fate.

Three days to either sign the contract and become Alpha Zane’s breeding vessel, or refuse and face whatever “consequences” he’d promised.

The choice should have been easy. Sign, survive, escape later.

But every time I picked up the pen, my hand trembled so violently I couldn’t form the letters of my name.

Because signing meant surrendering the last shred of dignity I had left. It meant admitting that all those years of worship, of foolish daydreams where he’d see me and soften, where he’d realize I was more than just a piece of furniture occupying space—all of it had been a lie I’d told myself to survive.

The contract sat on the small table in my quarters, mocking me with its neat language:

The Luna will bear the Alpha one male heir.

Upon the child’s second birthday, the Luna will relinquish all parental rights and titles.

The Luna will receive a settlement of 50,000 silver marks and safe passage to any territory of her choosing.

Failure to conceive within one year will result in immediate termination of contract and expulsion from pack lands.

I was livestock. Purchased breeding stock with a return policy.

On the second night, I made my decision.

I wasn’t signing.

The rope I’d hidden under my bed had been there for months—stolen bit by bit from the storage shed, braided together during sleepless nights when the weight of this life felt like drowning.

I’d always told myself it was just in case. That I’d never actually use it.

But as midnight approached on the second night, I pulled it out with shaking hands and began tying it to the iron bracket outside my window.

The servants’ quarters were on the second floor—high enough that a fall would hurt, but I was certain I could survive it. From there, it was just the gardens. Just the outer wall. Just freedom on the other side.

My bag was already packed. Filled with a change of clothes, what little money I’d managed to hide over the years, a small knife for protection. Everything I owned in the world fit into a sack small enough to throw over the wall ahead of me.

You can do this, I told myself as I tested the rope’s strength. You have to do this.

Because the alternative was unthinkable.

I waited until the house went quiet. Until the patrol guards passed beneath my window and continued their rounds. Then I pushed the window open, the hinges creaking softly in the night air.

The rope burned my palms as I lowered myself down, my arms trembling with effort. Halfway down, my foot slipped, and for one terrifying moment I swung freely, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Don’t look down. Don’t think. Just move.

When my feet finally hit solid ground, I nearly sobbed with relief.

The gardens were dark, illuminated only by scattered moonlight filtering through the trees. I clutched my bag to my chest and ran—not toward the main gates where guards would be stationed, but toward the eastern wall where the old stone had crumbled enough to be climbed.

My lungs burned and my legs screamed. But I didn’t stop.

When I reached the wall, I threw my bag over first, hearing it land with a soft thud on the other side. Freedom. It was right there.

I grabbed the rough stone and began climbing, my fingers finding purchase in the cracks and crevices. Almost there. Almost—

My foot slipped on the last ledge.

I fell.

The impact knocked every bit of air from my lungs. Pain exploded across my chest and stomach as I hit the ground hard, my face scraping against dirt and gravel.

For several seconds, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Could only lie there gasping like a fish drowning in air.

Get up, my mind screamed. Get up, you have to—

“Pathetic.”

The voice froze the blood in my veins.

I forced my head up, vision swimming, and found him standing there in the shadows.

Alpha Zane.

Arms crossed. Face carved from stone. The moonlight caught the cold fury in his eyes.

“You looked like a sack of meat hitting the ground,” he said, his tone almost conversational. Almost amused. “Did you really think you could run from me?”