Chapter Five - Angelique

My fingers hovered over the small paper packet hidden in my sleeve until a strong hand covered my own.

‘That is not the way, little wolf.’The voice, low and gravelly,

I turned into the arms of the only person in this Pack who had ever shown me any kindness. It was Silas, his eyes reflecting a quiet, warning sorrow that made my heart seize.

‘Killing either of them will only lead to you being torn apart. There are other ways to break a cage, little wolf. Please don’t do anything so rash; we have a few weeks to find another way.’

His touch was a sudden anchor in the storm of my panic, and as his words settled over me, the desperate urge to strike faded into a fragile hope. I slowly let my hand drop, and let my golden eyes meet his, searching for the unspoken truths and wondering if he truly believed that I could escape this nightmare.

‘Will you help me, Silas? You know if they find out you will be stripped of everything and forced out to be a rogue,’                                                                                                                                                                 I whispered, my voice trembling with the weight of the sacrifice I was asking him to make, but he only offered a soft, sad smile, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. ‘

‘You are worth it, little wolf.’                                                                                                                            His words hung in the quiet space between us, a promise so heavy and yet so effortlessly given that it made my chest ache, with a mixture of fear and profound gratitude. For the first time since the hunt began, I felt a flicker of warmth pierce the icy dread in my chest, whispering a silent vow that if we both survived this, I would spend the rest of my days ensuring his sacrifice was not in vain, even if it meant defying the very laws that had governed our pack for generations.

I placed the cooked steaks onto a heavy golden platter, the rich, savoury aroma rising like a quiet defiance against the cold stone walls. Along with a platter of eggs, their yolks glistening like captured suns, and a basket of dark, crusty bread, I carried the offering toward the heavy wooden table. He sat waiting, his gaze tracking my every movement with a silent, predatory intensity that made my breath catch in my throat. I set the tray down with trembling hands, the golden cutlery clinking softly, a sharp, shattering sound that seemed to slice through the heavy silence of the room, forcing me to hold my breath as I slowly stepped back, praying he wouldn’t read the desperate rebellion hammering against my ribs. Quickly I returned with the eggs, bacon and sausages, arranging them beside the feast, while the sizzling grease sang a frantic, nervous melody that seemed to mimic the wild, erratic beating of my own heart. He did not move, his eyes remaining locked on mine as the rich, savoury steam rose between us like a shroud, blurring his sharp features and offering a fleeting, yet fragile, shield against the suffocating weight of his undivided attention.

‘Eat,"

He murmured, to his Pack, his voice a low growl that was expected to be obeyed without a second of hesitation, and the sudden scrape of chairs against the wooden floorboards sounded like a battle cry as they descended upon the food, tearing into the feast with a primal hunger that made the small kitchen feel suddenly too cramped, too dangerous. I instinctively pressed myself against the cold counter, as far away from them as I could be. Yet his gaze never wavered, tracking my retreat with a slow, deliberate intensity that made it clear I was the only prey he was truly interested in. That no matter how far I shrank into the shadows, his patience would outlast my fear, waiting for the inevitable moment I would have to step back into his light. The silence between us stretched, taut and vibrating with an unspoken promise that we were both merely players in a game whose rules had already been written, and that if I did not escape, my eventual surrender was not a matter of if, but when.                                                                                         I hated him, I hated his Beta and I hated this awful Sierra Nevada Pack that had become my gilded cage,  I had to get away, even if it meant tearing down the very walls of this prison with my bare hands, because any fate—even running blind into the unforgiving wilderness beyond their borders—was infinitely better than waiting to be consumed by the darkness he so effortlessly commanded.

‘When you have finished washing the dishes, you are dismissed. Go and bathe in the lake. I have guests arriving tonight, and I want you presentable.’

The Alpha growled and terror struck my timid heart, freezing the blood in my veins as the sheer weight of his command settled over me like a physical shroud. I nodded quickly, not daring to meet his gaze.

‘Yes, Alpha.’

I whispered, my voice barely a tremor in the quiet kitchen, my eyes going to the large stack of dishes I would need to clean before I left. With trembling hands, I reached for the first plate and began this endless chore, my brain accepting that the sooner I started, the sooner I could get to the lake and bathe. The soapy water felt ice-cold against my raw skin, stinging the fresh cuts and bruises that mapped my exhaustion, reminding me of the heavy price I paid for simply existing in this pack.                                                      Still, a long swim in the beautiful lake was a rare luxury for me; I would be able to give my long, thick hair a good scrubbing and maybe even comb out all the tangles that had knotted up over the last few days of relentless chores. So, I scrubbed faster, ignoring the sharp pain in my fingers, driven by the sole promise of washing away the grime and misery of the day, even if only for a fleeting moment.