Mag-log inwarning:there is an attempted rape scene so if this triggers you please skip
That’s how I ended up here — lost in the forest, empty-handed, surviving off bitter fruits and sheer will. No food. No water. No plan. Only instinct.
The bullying, the endless fights... all those years had unknowingly trained me for this: survival.
It’s been four brutal days since I crossed Shadowmoor territory, and every second I’ve felt like prey.
The moon hung low behind thick clouds, offering little light, and the forest pulsed with unseen dangers. Every crack of a twig, every gust of wind sounded like a threat. My heart beat so violently it drowned out my own thoughts.
I should have known better. A lone female in these woods was asking for trouble.
I heard the voice before I saw him.
"Well, well, well," he drawled, voice dripping with malice. "What’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone out here?"
My stomach twisted. Every nerve in my body screamed: RUN.
I pivoted and sprinted, muscles screaming in protest, feet pounding against the uneven ground. The forest became a blur of shadows and panic.
"You can’t outrun me, little girl!"
Branches clawed at my arms, tearing my skin. Roots snagged at my ankles. Still, I ran.
Behind me, heavy footsteps thundered closer. His laughter — harsh, cruel — followed like a noose tightening around my neck.
My lungs burned. I couldn’t outrun him forever.
A sharp pain shot through my foot as I stepped on something jagged, but I pushed forward, fueled by raw terror. My dress — a ridiculous bubblegum pink — snagged and ripped on the thorns. It didn’t matter. I needed to survive.
A cave loomed ahead, its mouth gaping like a promise of safety or a deeper trap.
I bolted inside, heart hammering against my ribs, diving behind a massive boulder slick with moss. I curled into myself, hands shaking uncontrollably, every sense straining for any sound.
Silence.
Then — the slow, deliberate crunch of boots against gravel.
"You can’t hide," he called softly, his voice echoing in the darkness. "Come out. It'll be easier for both of us."
Tears welled up but I clamped a hand over my mouth. I bit down hard, forcing myself not to make a sound.
The stench of him — sweat, alcohol, something fouler — crept closer.
I spotted a faint glow further inside the cave — an exit?
I began crawling toward it, silent, desperate. Rocks dug into my palms and knees. My vision blurred, either from terror or exhaustion, I couldn't tell.
I was a breath away from freedom when fingers clamped around my ankle.
"Got you," he snarled.
Panic exploded inside me.
I kicked and screamed, raw, animalistic sounds tearing from my throat. He dragged me backward across the rough ground.
"Should’ve made this easier," he hissed, grabbing at the hem of my torn dress, yanking it upward.
Revulsion, pure and paralyzing, flooded me.
"Help!" I screamed. "Somebody, please!"
The slap cracked across my face, snapping my head to the side.
"No one’s coming," he laughed, breath hot and rancid against my ear.
This can't be it. This can’t be how it ends.
My hand scrambled across the ground — and closed around a rock, heavy and jagged.
With everything I had left, I swung.
The stone smashed into his head with a sickening crunch.
He reeled back, cursing, blood gushing from the wound.
I didn't hesitate. I kicked free and ran, barefoot, bleeding, dress in tatters, heart screaming in my chest.
His roars followed me, but I didn’t dare look back.
Through the trees, I saw it — walls. Gates. A border.
Hope flared. I screamed again, voice hoarse and desperate.
"Stop! Please! Help!"
Two men stood by the gate, their silhouettes barely visible in the moonlight. They saw me. I know they saw me.
But they didn’t move. They didn’t lift a finger.
The gates began to close.
"Please!" I sobbed, stumbling toward them. "Please don't shut me out!"
"You really thought they'd save you?" he jeered behind me, voice twisted with glee. "No one cares about a defenseless little bitch."
He was right. No one was coming. No one cared.
But I wasn’t giving up.
I forced my broken body forward, every step agony, lungs burning, tears blinding me.
"Please, Moon Goddess, save me..." I choked.
The gates were nearly closed.
A gunshot shattered the night.
I froze.
The man behind me screamed, then fell silent.
Through my tears, I saw her — a woman, tall and fierce, lowering her smoking gun.
I collapsed into her arms as she caught me effortlessly.
"Take care of the body," she barked to the guards. Her voice was pure steel.
She glanced down at me, her expression unreadable.
"And you two," she growled at the gatekeepers, "my office. First thing tomorrow. You're dead."
The last thing I remember before darkness swallowed me was the feeling of safety, brutal and sudden, like a dam bursting.
I was alive.
For now.
Penelope’s POV I’m having withdrawal symptoms, and the reason is because I haven’t seen Alex yet. I’m worried—what if he’s hurt? What if they failed? I doubt that though, but still… “Will you relax? He will be fine. I’m more worried than you, and you don’t see me howling around,” Cherry said in my head. My life feels so melodramatic. Zara has found every moment to clash with me, and I’m not here for it. I have too much ego and self-respect as a Luna to level down to her shenanigans. Melissa is a whole other case. After seeing that I won’t take her back, and that I wasn’t a slave to her anymore, her whole demeanor changed. But as long as she was confined to the guest quarters, I don’t want to see her. I’ve been attending the meetings so far on behalf of Alex, and I can tell you—Davis doesn’t like it. He’s getting on my nerves. I haven’t seen a single good thing he has to say. Why he’s on the council, I’ll never know, but he’s still one of the elders and probably one of the
I could only see red. I was boiling—an ache I’d never felt before. I’d never wished for someone’s blood this much. I closed the torture chamber almost breaking it in the process and strutted forward. I could hear my soldiers fighting, and right now I wanted one man only — that masked man. I opened another door and felt a bullet graze my cheek. I looked up, and he was exactly who I was looking for. “Alpha Alex, what a pleasure—” he started. I didn’t give him the courtesy to finish. I punched him directly into the wall. He went blanked out. I leaned in close. “Save it for later. Your torturing will be slow.” “Alex — we found the wom—damn, bro, eishh, that looks painful.” I shot him a glare. Judging by the relaxed look on his face, Xadden was safe. “We found the women. What do you want us to do next?” came the shout. “After interrogating him, burn it all down. Every damn thing. Kill everybody. I don’t want a single person alive.” “Yes, Alpha — and this is the asshole
Leaving my woman and going to war was never on my bucket list. I won’t even consider it a war, but anyone who hurts my woman hurts me, and I have a personal score to settle with the motherfucker that laid a finger on my Penelope. The night was cold and tense, the kind that carried the smell of danger in the air. I left while she was sleeping. I know my woman well enough to know that if I didn’t leave at that hour, she would’ve found a way to sneak out and follow me— and hell no, I didn’t want that. Different and brutal ways of dealing with those men flooded my mind. “I can feel the murderous thoughts flowing through your head, man,” Liam muttered. I shot him a glare. I still hadn’t recovered from the fact that Penelope went to him to talk— even if it was something as small as a speculation. I wasn’t annoyed she didn’t tell me; I was annoyed she didn’t tell me first. And now that I’m thinking about it again, I’m getting pissed all over. God, she will drive me mad one day.
Alex was gone. Okay, the way I said that made it sound like he died—but he didn’t. Let’s take a chill pill. After our cute little make-out the last time, I told Alex about my conversation with Liam and apologized for keeping it from him. My heart was beating fast as I confessed, expecting him to shout at me or something. But surprisingly, he wasn’t angry—and that made me feel bad. Why did I let myself get so caught up in my head and not tell him sooner? He was mad that I told Liam first though, and I had to do a whole lot of kissing and pampering before he calmed down. He told me everything calmly, and he may or may not have flipped when I said I wanted to follow him. The argument stretched for a whole hour before Freya talked sense into me, reminding me how useless I’d be if I followed him. As much as it hurt when she said that, it was the truth. I couldn’t fight. I barely escaped from my kidnappers—if not for the help I got from those women, I wouldn’t even be here. Hone
Penelope POV “Not yet,” I murmured, letting my gaze linger on him, drinking in the desperation in his eyes. The fire in him—the way he always seemed to burn for me—was intoxicating. Alex stayed on his knees, chest rising and falling with every ragged breath. I could feel the tension between us crackling, the air heavy with everything we weren’t saying. “You know I can’t resist you when you look like that,” I teased, letting a faint smirk curl my lips. His eyes darkened instantly, raw and vulnerable, and my pulse quickened. “I—” he swallowed hard, voice low. “I just… I hate seeing you upset. I can’t stand it.” I let a slow, deliberate hand trail down the side of his face, tilting his chin up so our eyes met my heart pounding in my chest . “Then prove to me you can handle it,” I whispered. Not a word about kneeling or begging—just the challenge, the heat of our connection. He met my gaze, every nerve in him tense, every muscle coiled with need and devotion. His lips parted
You don’t want to know how disappointed I felt when Liam called me two days after our last conversation to tell me he hadn’t found any useful information regarding Zara’s case or my kidnapping. The weight of it hit me like a blow to the chest. All that waiting, all that hoping—and for what? Nothing. It was maddening. Apart from the fact that I no longer had a lead, I probably sounded and looked like a deranged woman obsessed with her man’s ex. But something told me Liam didn’t see me that way. Even though we both knew there was no lead, I could tell he was still turning it over in his head—or at least I hoped he was. Still, something about his tone, the way his eyes flickered, screamed that he was hiding something from me. And that’s what I’m going all the way to Alex’s office to find out now. Zara hasn’t messed with me since our last encounter, but my gut tells me her silence isn’t peace—it’s plotting. Call it intuition, instinct, or just the ache in my bones, but I know she ha







