Chapter Three

Wolf

As the truck bumps along the narrow, overgrown forest road, I can’t shake the feeling that the tension is growing thicker with every passing second. It’s the kind of road where GPS signals go to die and where the only direction is straight to a grave. Dense, dark trees loom on either side, closing in on us like they’re in on some twisted joke—one I’m not sure I’m going to find funny.

“So, Wolf, the two guys next to you are Bryce and Chandler—my future beta and gamma,” Don says, a hint of pride in his voice.

I furrow my brows. “So you’re not the alpha?”

Don smirks. “Nah, not yet. One day.”

Sasha snorts but keeps quiet.

Don’s little introduction of his future beta and gamma does nothing to ease my nerves. If anything, it feels like he’s laying out the cast of characters for my impending execution. Bryce and Chandler, both stiff as boards, look like they’d rather be anywhere else—maybe at a dentist appointment or in line for a root canal. Chandler’s restless energy makes me wonder if he’s about to explode or just desperate for some form of distraction. Maybe both.

The reality of my situation sinks in deeper, but instead of fear, I feel a strange blend of resignation and simmering anger. My wolf growls low, ready to rumble against impossible odds. But all I can think about is Sasha—or Sam, or whatever her name is—and how she’s sitting up front, probably plotting my demise with a wicked little smirk.

“So, what’s the plan, Don?” I ask, trying for casual, though the thud of my heart might as well be a marching band. “You going to introduce me to your daddy and let him decide what to do with the stray, or are you planning to handle it yourself? Because I’d hate to be a bother.”

Don’s eyes flick to the rearview mirror, and for a moment, I think I see a flicker of uncertainty. But then he smirks, that cold smile like a knife. “You’ll find out soon enough, rogue. But trust me, this isn’t the kind of meeting you’re going to walk away from.”

Charming. That twist in my stomach is back, but I keep my face as neutral as a poker player in a high-stakes game. I can’t give him the satisfaction of seeing any fear.

The truck jolts as Don speeds up, and the tension in the cab is so thick it feels almost tangible. I’m caught in a whirlwind of frustration and confusion. Sasha—Sam—sits silently, her eyes locked on the window. Her body language stands in stark contrast to the intensity of the situation, but I can sense her inner turmoil through the shift in her aura, as if she’s wrestling with the weight of her choices.

Don’s words strike a nerve. His twisted logic is maddening, but I know better than to let him get under my skin. Every word he throws at me is laced with disdain, like a child throwing a tantrum. It’s clear he’s determined to make this about more than just a simple misunderstanding.

“You know, Don,” I say through gritted teeth, trying to keep my voice steady, “I didn’t growl at you because of some petty rule or whatever. I growled because you’re an arrogant prick treating someone with basic kindness like it’s a crime.”

Chandler smirks beside me. “He wouldn’t be saying that if he knew your old man, Don.”

Don snorts. “True that, man.”

Sasha turns and scowls at Chandler. “Just shut it, okay?”

Chandler shrugs, a grin still plastered on his face. “Whatever you say.”

The truck rounds another corner, the trees pressing closer together, casting eerie shadows across the windshield. The suffocating silence settles in again, broken only by the rumble of the engine and the occasional creak of the suspension. Don’s driving is rough, almost reckless, as if he’s trying to intimidate me further.

“You know it’s not the fact that you growled at me that pissed me off, Wolf. It’s that you thought you could sit in a diner with an alpha’s daughter—my sister.”

My brows lift in surprise. “She’s your sister?”

“That’s right,” he replies, his tone serious. “It’s my job to keep her from sneaking off and leaving our pack, which, trust me, isn’t as easy as it sounds.”

Before I can respond, Sasha speaks up for the first time since the argument started. Her voice is quiet but firm, cutting through the tension like a knife. “Don, can we please just get to the packhouse? This isn’t helping anyone.”

Don shoots her a frustrated glance but nods tersely. The truck speeds up again, the engine growling as it tears through the forest path. I can see the packhouse now, a large, imposing structure emerging from between the trees. It’s surrounded by a high fence, with guards stationed at the gate—an unmistakable sign that this is serious business.

I brace myself as the truck slows and comes to a halt at the entrance. The guards nod to Don, who rolls down his window and exchanges a few words with them. They nod back and open the gate, allowing us to drive through.

As we pull into the compound, the atmosphere shifts. The air is thick with an unmistakable sense of authority, the kind that can only come from a well-established pack. I take in my surroundings, noting the security measures—cameras, watchtowers, and a general sense of watchfulness that has me on edge.

The truck rolls to a stop in front of the packhouse, a grand structure that looms like a fortress against the encroaching woods. The façade is impressive, built of dark stone and wood, with large windows that seem to watch us as closely as the guards do. 

Don turns to me, his expression a mix of triumph and irritation. “Welcome to our little slice of paradise. You’re going to want to play nice in here, Wolf.”

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind,” I reply, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind. 

Sasha opens the door and steps out first, her posture straightening as if she’s shedding the weight of the truck. I follow suit, my heart pounding as I take my first steps onto the pack's territory. 

“Just remember,” Don says, his tone lowering to a near growl, “I’m watching you.” 

I meet his gaze, feeling my own wolf stir restlessly within me. “I’m not the one you should be worried about,” I retort, my voice a quiet challenge.

I climb out and follow Don, along with his beta and gamma, wondering why I ever decided to come to this damn little town in the first place. Oh right, I needed food and clothing—like that’s such a sin.

Sasha trails behind us as we step inside, her footsteps echoing in the grand hallway. I can’t help but glance back at her, catching a glimpse of her conflicted expression before we’re led into a large office at the end of the hall. 

The room is decorated with dark woods and rich fabrics, giving it an air of authority and tradition. Behind the imposing mahogany desk sits a man who exudes power—an alpha in every sense of the word. He’s older, his face lined with age and experience, but his presence is commanding.

“Father,” Don begins, his voice deferential but still laced with that edge of arrogance. “This is the rogue I was telling you about. He was in the diner with Sam and decided to growl at me. I thought it best you handle this.” Ah yes, the phone call Don made before we got back into the truck after filling up with enough wood to burn down a warehouse.

The alpha’s eyes shift to me, piercing and assessing. I stand tall, meeting his gaze without flinching. This is it—the moment where everything changes.

“Interesting,” the alpha says slowly, his voice deep and authoritative. “So, you’re the one who’s been causing a stir. Tell me, rogue, what do you have to say for yourself?”

I take a deep breath, knowing that my response could very well determine my fate. But one thing is clear—I’m not going down without a fight, and I won’t let them think I’m anything less than I am.

“Just that I didn’t come here looking for trouble,” I say, my voice steady. “I came for a meal and ended up in a mess I didn’t ask for. So if you’re going to judge me, at least hear me out first.”

The alpha leans back in his chair, considering my words. The room is silent as everyone waits for his response, the weight of their gazes pressing down on me like an anvil.

The alpha’s eyes narrow as he listens to Don’s recounting of the situation. His gaze shifts to me, assessing, calculating. There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes, and it’s clear that my fate hangs in the balance.

“So you decided to bring him here,” the alpha says, his voice heavy with disapproval. “Why? What do you expect me to do with him, Don?”

“I figured you’d want to handle it, seeing as he’s a rogue and all,” Don responds with a shrug. “He’s a loose cannon who’s already shown he can’t respect pack boundaries.”

The alpha’s gaze locks onto mine. “And you,” he growls, “you think it’s appropriate to just waltz into town, growling at my son, and expect there to be no consequences?”

I take a deep breath, trying to stay calm despite the intimidating atmosphere. “I didn’t come here to start trouble,” I say steadily. “I came for a meal and ended up being dragged here against my will. I growled because your son was acting like a jerk, not because I have some grudge against him or your pack.”

The alpha’s expression remains stern, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, perhaps, or a hint of consideration. “You’re lucky Sam showed you some kindness, rogue,” he says, glancing at Sasha. “Otherwise, I’d be tempted to show you how we handle outsiders who step out of line.”

Sasha steps forward, her face a mask of determination. “Dad, this is my fault. I invited him to lunch. He didn’t mean any harm.”

The alpha’s gaze softens slightly as he looks at her, but he doesn’t let his guard down. “And you think that excuses his behavior?” he asks, his voice still carrying an edge.

“I don’t know if it excuses it,” she replies firmly, “but he didn’t start this. I did. So if you’re going to punish anyone, it should be me.”

The alpha’s gaze returns to me, and for a moment, it feels like he’s weighing his options. The silence stretches, heavy with unspoken tension.

“You’re a rogue,” he finally says, his voice gravelly. “And in our world, that means you’re a threat. But you also seem to be more than just a typical rogue. So here’s what we’re going to do: you’ll stay here for a while, under observation. If you prove that you’re not a threat, maybe then we can talk about what to do with you.”

“With all due respect, alpha—”

“It’s Fenris. Alpha Fenris.”

I nod. “Well, you see, I’m nothing more than another rogue just passing through, so I don’t see why you need to keep me here. If you let me go, I’ll skip town, and I swear I won’t come back.”

Even as I say it, my wolf rumbles deep in my chest. Damn it—what the hell has gotten into him?

Fenris smirks. “No, I think I like my plan a bit better, Wolf—”

“Just Wolf.”

He nods. “Well, just Wolf, we have a strict rule against allowing rogues within our town or territory. You waltz in here without a second thought, and that’s a red flag for me. So you’ll stay put until I decide you can leave. Understood?” 

I open my mouth to protest, but the weight of his gaze holds me in place. This isn’t just a threat; it’s a declaration. The air feels electric with tension, and I realize that I’ve crossed a line I didn’t even know existed.

I nod, trying to hide my relief. It’s not freedom, but it’s better than an immediate execution. “Understood,” I say.

“Now tell me, Wolf, where are you from?” 

My jaw clenches. “That’s a loaded question.”

“How so?” he presses, his tone teasing. 

“I don’t exactly know.” 

“Don’t know?” he smirks. “That seems highly unlikely.” 

My jaw tightens as I look down, refusing to meet his gaze. I don’t answer him, and the silence stretches between us.

“I don’t like being lied to, Wolf,” he says, the edge in his voice sharpening.

“I’m not lying,” I grit out, our eyes locking, narrowed and hostile as our wolves stir within us, responding to the tension.

“People don’t just forget where they’re from, not unless they have something to hide,” he continues, his voice steady and ominous. “I think perhaps a night in the cells will refresh your memory.”

I grind my molars, feeling the heat of anger rising in my chest. 

“On what grounds?” 

“On the grounds of me being Alpha of Erebus and you being a rogue,” he replies, his smirk unwavering. “In this territory, that makes you a threat.” 

My heart races, the weight of his words sinking in. I’m a pawn in a game I didn’t choose, and I refuse to let him dictate my fate without a fight. 

“Is that your only justification?” I challenge, meeting his gaze with defiance. “Just because you have power doesn’t mean you get to play God.” 

Fenris leans forward slightly, his demeanor shifting. “No, but it means I have the authority to make choices for the safety of my pack. And right now, you’re a danger.”

“Or maybe you’re just afraid of what I might bring to the table,” I counter, the fire in my chest igniting further. 

He narrows his eyes, contemplating my words, and I can sense the shift in the room. It’s a dangerous game we’re playing, but I won’t back down. 

“You will stay in a holding cell, and that’s final. It’s that or death—your choice.” Fenris’s voice leaves no room for negotiation as he shifts his gaze to Sasha, narrowing his eyes. “As for you, if I ever hear that you’re feeding rogues or leaving this territory without your brother or Chandler by your side, I’ll be sure to keep you in a cell as well.”

Sasha’s discomfort is palpable, a tense mixture of defiance and remorse radiating from her. The strain in the dynamic between her and her father hangs heavy in the air, amplifying the frustration and helplessness swirling within me. The alpha’s disapproval looms over her like a storm cloud, and it’s clear she’s not merely a passive player in this unfolding drama. Her well-intentioned actions have led to consequences she never anticipated, and the vulnerability flickering in her eyes, despite her attempts to project strength, reveals the depth of her internal struggle.

Fenris’s focus shifts back to me, his gaze hardening. “So, Wolf,” he growls, “do you have anything else to say for yourself before we decide your fate?”

I’m tempted to lash out, to voice the anger and resentment bubbling just beneath the surface, but I force myself to maintain my composure. Clarity is my only ally now, and I need to think clearly if I want to survive this.

“No,” I reply, my voice steady despite the chaos within me. “I’ve said everything I need to say. If you want to put me in a cage, so be it. But know this: I’m not going to make things easier for you by giving you anything more than what I’ve already said.”

Fenris narrows his eyes, contemplating my response. The air crackles with tension, almost suffocating as he studies me, weighing his options. Silence stretches, broken only by the faint sounds of the pack going about their lives, blissfully unaware of the drama unfolding at the core of their territory.

Sasha’s gaze flits to me, filled with a mix of regret and helplessness. It’s evident she’s torn between her loyalty to her pack and her own moral compass, her internal conflict mirroring my own turmoil.

Finally, Fenris breaks the silence with a curt nod. “Very well. We’ll keep you in a cage for now. Maybe some time alone will help you remember what you’re trying so hard to hide. And perhaps, just perhaps, you’ll reconsider your position.”

With that, he turns on his heel, signaling for Don and Bryce to lead me away. I steal one last look at Sasha, who remains rooted in place, her expression a bittersweet blend of sorrow and frustration. Then, with a heavy heart, I turn away, accepting my fate with as much dignity as I can muster. 

As we walk through the expansive packhouse, I can feel the weight of eyes on me—curious, judgmental, and cold. The echo of my footsteps resonates in the hall, each step a reminder of the cage awaiting me, the freedom I’ve lost, and the uncertainty of what lies ahead.

Bryce and Don manhandle me as they shove me past an open door toward the cages, the anger and frustration roiling inside me intensify. I’m trapped in a situation where my only options seem to be submission or conflict, and neither feels satisfying. Don’s taunts and the smugness in his voice only fuel my irritation, but lashing out would only make things worse.

“Here you go, Wolf. I’m sure this will be an improvement from where you’ve been staying. Heck, you’ll even be able to have a shower and look human for once.”

The sarcastic remark about the cages stings. The thought of being locked up like some caged animal is infuriating, especially with Don’s attitude. I clench my jaw, trying to keep my beast under control. It’s clear that this pack operates on a hierarchy that I don’t fit into, and the sooner I accept that, the better I can navigate my current predicament.

“Well, alpha pup, I’m sure being born with a silver spoon up your ass means you wouldn't know the first thing about sleeping in the places I've had to call home.”

Don’s grin falters slightly at my words, but the presence of his wolf is still palpable. He seems to be struggling between asserting his dominance and following his father’s orders. It’s a power struggle I’m caught in the middle of, and it’s maddening.

“You don't know the first thing about me,” he snarls.

“Right back atcha,” I grit out, not backing down. 

The air thickens with unspoken words, each step bringing me closer to the reality of my imprisonment. I refuse to let Don see how much this situation rattles me. Instead, I channel my frustration inward, knowing that every moment spent in this cage could either break me or become a chance to plan my escape. The bars loom ahead, cold and unyielding, but my spirit remains unbroken, determined to fight against the fate they’ve laid out for me.

The metal bars slam shut with a resounding clang, echoing through the dimly lit holding area. The sound reverberates in my chest, a finality that feels like a punch to the gut. I hear Don’s mocking laughter as he turns away, the echoing footsteps of him and Bryce fading into the distance.

I stand there, the cold air wrapping around me like a shroud, as the reality of my situation sinks in deeper. My pulse races, and I can feel the heat of my anger simmering just beneath the surface. I’m locked away like some wild beast, but they have no idea who they’re dealing with.