Chapter fifteen

Serafine's POV 

Grayson’s words wouldn’t stop echoing in my head.

I paced to and fro in my room, rubbing my palms and blowing air on them every second. Anxiety clawed in my chest. Grayson might have meant something else when he said those words to me. But in my head, it meant a clue to run. To escape.

I sat down at the edge of my tiny mattress and winced at the sharp pain in my back. Grayson had done his best to take care of my wounds, but they still itched. 

His voice haunted me. “No one is coming to save you. Only you can.”

Panic surged inside me.

He was right. No one was going to save me. Not my helpless poor mom. Not my dad who's in the grave. Not the stupid selfish uncles I have at home. 

Alpha Bran hated me. His subjects despised and mistreated me. They looked at me like I was less than dirt. Called me human like they were not. 

I was exhausted. And knew if I continued staying here, I would die.

With a sigh, I looked at my folded servant uniform across the bed. I shook my head. Not today. There was no working here today. I would leave today.

I remembered seeing a waste truck drive into the yard every morning and drive out after the servants had thrown in all the waste in the house. 

Yes, the truck. That was my ticket out of this hell-hole.

I recalled seeing no guard checking the truck when it drove out. They wouldn't because it contained nothing but filth and garbage. Exactly where I need to be to leave this place unnoticed. They would never know I'm inside the truck. And by the time they notice my absence, I would be far gone.

I pushed myself up with a hiss of pain and went to the bathroom. I washed my face in the basin and returned to the room to change into one of the old clothes I was given. 

My heart pounded as I opened the door with caution. The corridor was empty. Strange. 

Where were the guards? There were always two or three stationed in my corridor. But today they weren't there. My stomach twisted. 

Could this be a sign that they already know my plan? 

No way. 

I took the first step out of my room, and then the second, and I moved swiftly and quietly through corridors. Hiding when I saw guards or other pack servants until I arrived at the backyard where the waste truck was parked. Its back was open while servants dumped baskets of dirt inside. 

I pressed myself against the wall, waiting, counting breaths. When the last servant left and the guards turned their attention elsewhere, I moved. Ran.

My hands shook as I climbed into the truck, my boots slipping against slime and scraps. I wedged myself behind a stack of broken crates and pulled a torn tarp over my body. More waste and trash poured in, some covered me. 

The smell of rotten things and dirt filled my nose. I bit down on my lip to keep me from coughing, gagging, and alerting the guards that someone was in the truck. Tears streamed down my face silently.

I must endure it. To save myself. It was the only way I could. 

I pulled my cloth sleeve up to cover my nose. Curled myself as I breathed through the cloth. I forced my body to stay still as the truck was filled. Everywhere was wet and I was suffocating.

The door slammed shut. Engine roared to life.

And for the first time since I’d been dragged into this packhouse, hope bloomed in my chest.

I was finally leaving.

The truck jolted forward. My heart raced with joy. I imagined how worried my mom must have been, and her relief when she would finally see me. I was going back to help my mom work her cleaning jobs. Even though they barely covered our bills and we stayed hungry some days. It was way better than that hellhole of a house. 

I missed my mom so much, and would hug her so tight when I got home.

Suddenly, the truck stopped. 

My heart stopped. We hadn’t been driving long enough, which meant we were still in Alpha Bran's territory. Panic crawled up my throat as I strained my ears to listen. I heard voices outside but couldn't make out what they were saying.

Oh, God. Please move this truck. Please.

After a few agonizing moments, the engine started again. The truck moved forward. Relief washed through me so fast I almost sobbed.

But it didn’t last.

The truck stopped again. This time, it didn’t start again. Minutes turned into hours.

Tears stunk my eyes as my hope of escaping went down the drain. I realized I wasn’t saving myself. I was committing suicide. 

The air was thick. Hot. Each breath I took became harder than the last. My chest burned. My head spun. The waste pressed down on me, stealing what little oxygen remained.

I would die in the truck. And my body would be disposed with the trash.

No.

I refused defeat.

I couldn’t let it end like that. I forced myself to move, shoving waste aside, my fingers numb and slick. My vision blurred as I pushed the door open just enough to squeeze out.

Fresh air hit my lungs, and I gasped, collapsing behind the truck. I was still in Alpha Bran's territory.

I could see his stone house stood out tall amongst others. I bent over, catching my breath for a minute before heading back to the stone mansion.

As I walked, I heard two women conversing. 

“The Alpha ordered it,” the first one said. 

“Why? I'm supposed to get my daughter from the airport,” The second woman complained.

“Don't bother. Just call her to lodge in a hotel till after the lockdown because no one will let you out or let her in.” 

“But why? What's going on?”

A man joined them. “There are rumors they are searching for someone.”

My heart dropped.

What? Have they found out already? What should I do?

“Nothing is sure yet. But I'm sure whatever made the Alpha order a shut down must be very serious.” the man added.

I zoned out of their conversation. My heart thumping as I doubled my steps to the house. I would sneak in just like I sneaked out. Unnoticed.

I followed a back alley I found some days ago into the house. I snuck through the hallways until I got to my room. I shut the door behind me, pressed my forehead against it as silent tears spilled down my face.

I hadn’t escaped. But I was alive.

I stripped off the filthy clothes I was wearing and hid it. Hurried to the bathroom and washed quickly. Then pulled on my servant uniform, smoothing it down just as footsteps echoed in the corridor.

The door flew open.