All Chapters of Alex on the run: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The basement always smells like mildew and sadness.
Alex didn’t remember ever having a real bed. Her nest of threadbare blankets was tucked between the boiler and the cracked cement wall, a space just big enough for her to curl up in at night—if she was lucky enough to sleep.
Sibyl had tried to make it warmer. The old omega had found scraps of fabric, bits of discarded foam, and even a broken space heater once. But it never lasted. Someone always took it away.
“You’ll freeze to death before you shift,” Rex had once laughed. “That’s if you even have a wolf.”
Alex blinked the memory away as she stumbled to her feet, pulling her thin sweater over her head. The bruise from yesterday’s shove down the stairs pulsed angrily on her hip. She limped a little but said nothing—she never did.
“You’re late, girl!” barked Helen Starling from the top of the basement stairs. “The Beta’s breakfast better be hot and perfect, or you’ll be licking the floor again.”
Alex mumbled a quick, “Yes, ma’am,” and

Branches clawed at Alex’s arms as she ran. The cold bit into her lungs, turning each breath into fire. Her bare feet struck roots and rocks, but she didn’t feel the pain — not really. The beating, the rejection, the years of silence and cruelty had already numbed everything.
But her wolf kept her moving.
Do not stop, the voice urged.
Not here. Not where they can take us back.
The trees grew denser. The forest thickened. The sounds of the pack house faded behind her. The more distance she put between herself and them, the lighter her chest became — until finally, her body gave out.
Her knees buckled, and she crashed into the cold earth.
Snow flurries drifted through the branches overhead, catching in her hair. Her breaths were ragged, her heartbeat uneven. She curled her arms around herself and trembled.
I don’t… I can’t…
Yes, her wolf whispered, firm but gentle.
You can. You are not alone anymore.
Alex closed her eyes.
The forest had never felt so quiet.
Until—
A twig snapped.
Her bo

Alex woke the next morning to soft birdsong instead of shouting.
The pain in her body had dulled to something manageable. Her ribs still ached, bruises still shadowed her skin, but she could breathe without shaking.
She sat up slowly, fingers resting on the moonstone at her throat.
I’m still here.
I’m safe.
Words her mind didn’t quite believe yet.
A soft knock sounded.
“May I enter?” Aeron’s voice — low, steady, never demanding.
“Yes,” Alex murmured.
He stepped in carrying a fresh bowl of stew and a folded shirt and pants.
“I thought you might want clean clothes,” he said.
Alex took them, fingers brushing his only for a moment — but that moment sent a warm shiver through her chest.
Mate.
But neither of them said it.
Aeron didn’t mention the bond.
Didn’t reach for her.
Didn’t claim her.
He honored her silence.
Alex’s voice was small. “Thank you.”
Aeron nodded once, like her words mattered.
Later That Day
With slow movements, Alex stepped outside for the first time.
Night Fang territor

The room was quiet except for the crackle of the fire. Alex sat on the edge of the bed for a long moment, unsure if she was allowed to touch anything. The blankets were thick, soft, and smelled faintly of cedar. The mattress dipped beneath her in a way that felt foreign — forgiving, instead of stiff and punishing.
Her fingers twisted into the fabric.
She didn’t realize Aeron was still at the doorway until he spoke, voice low and warm:
“You can rest here. No one will disturb you.”
She turned slightly. He wasn’t watching her like others had — not monitoring her for obedience, not waiting for mistakes. He was just there. Present, steady, unmoving.
“Every room in this house is under my protection,” Aeron continued. “But this one—” he paused, “—this one is yours now.”
Hers.
The word nearly undid her.
Alex swallowed. “I’ve never had anything that was… mine.”
Aeron’s eyes softened. “Then this is your first.”
He didn’t enter. Didn’t crowd her. He simply reached to the wall beside the door and

Night fell gently over the Night Fang estate. The snow outside reflected the moonlight so brightly that the room seemed washed in silver. Alex sat curled beside the fire, wrapped in Aeron’s cloak. The warmth didn’t feel borrowed anymore.
Aeron entered the room quietly, carrying a small, lacquered box carved with the symbol of a crescent moon wrapped in a wolf’s tail.
Alex sat up, heart thudding.
“What’s that?”
Aeron sat beside her — not too close — and placed the box between them.
“It belonged to your mother.”
Alex froze.
Her breath caught in her lungs. Her wolf pressed closer, alert, waiting.
Aeron opened the box carefully, as if the memories inside could shatter.
Inside lay:
A blood-red ribbon, frayed at one end
A pendant shaped like a full moon, cracked down the center
And a small, rolled piece of parchment tied with silver thread
Alex reached out with trembling fingers and brushed the ribbon.
It was soft. Warm. Loved.
“My mother…” her voice faltered. “What was she like?”
Aeron’s e