Unhindered Escape

Jasmine

Finally, Ryker seems happy enough to upgrade my living conditions. So, in this rate moment of luxury, I have been moved to the attic. The attic is no sanctuary, but at least it is not the dungeon.

Damp and suffocating, the air clings to my skin, wrapping around me like a second skin of despair. The cold is relentless, the kind of chill that burrows deep into your bones and refuses to leave. It lingers regardless of the season, indifferent to the sun or storms outside.

Above me, a small, grimy window provides the only connection to the outside world. A thin sliver of moonlight streams through the filthy glass, casting faint, silvery streaks across the wooden beams and broken furniture. It does little to banish the shadows or the memories that haunt this place.

I sit on the creaky cot, pulling the tattered blanket tightly around my shoulders. Unfortunately, it does nothing to keep the cold at bay or to soothe the throbbing pain radiating from my ribs and arms. Ryker’s "lesson" earlier today left me battered, but the bruises on my skin are nothing compared to the bruises on my soul.

"Know your place, Jasmine,” he had growled, his voice laced with disgust. “You’re nothing but a mistake. A nuisance I have to endure. Open wide for me, let me enjoy your tight core. You have no right to deny me my right as your mate.” His words replay in my mind like a cursed mantra, each repetition twisting the knife of humiliation a little deeper.

I once believed in the mate bond. I thought it was a sacred connection, an unbreakable promise of love and devotion. But Ryker shattered that illusion the moment he looked at me with those amber eyes, filled not with affection but with contempt. "You’ll never escape me,” he had said, a smirk curling his lips. His voice had carried a cruel certainty that still chills me to the core.

I hate him. Yet the bond refuses to let me go, binding me to a man who treats me as if I am less than dirt. Deep within me, my wolf whimpers, longing for the mate who will never love her. I hate her, too for her weakness, for her unyielding loyalty to someone so undeserving.

The door creaks open, and my heart leaps in panic. Is it Ryker? I brace myself for his towering frame and his cold sneer. But it’s Carly who steps into the room, her silhouette framed by the dim light from the hallway. Her perfume precedes her, a cloying sweetness that stings my nose. She strides forward, her heels clicking against the wooden floor like a countdown to my misery.

“Enjoying your palace, Jasmine?” she drawls, her voice dripping with mockery. Her sharp eyes scan the room, lingering on the pathetic excuse for a cot I’ve been given. “Ryker wanted me to remind you to keep quiet tonight,” she adds, her tone lilting with false cheer. “We’re celebrating.”

Celebrating. I know what that means. The pack will gather downstairs, laughing and toasting to something I’ll never be part of. I am their dirty secret, the mate Ryker wishes he could erase. I have half a mind to tell her off, but Ryker drained my energy from his earlier sexcapade and the usual beatings during the intercourse. I dare not call it lovemaking because it's anything but.

Carly leans in closer, her perfectly manicured nails brushing a strand of hair from my face. The touch is mockingly gentle, but her words cut deep. “Maybe I’ll give him something real to celebrate,” she whispers, her breath hot against my skin. I just stare at her making sure she sees the hickeys Ryker left on my neckline.

I see a flitting angst that she quickly conceals. Her lips curl into a sly smile as she straightens, her nails trailing down my cheek in a way that makes my stomach churn. “You’ll never be his Luna, little omega. That’s my role. You’re just a placeholder. A mistake.”

Her laughter rings in my ears long after she leaves, the door slamming shut behind her. The sound reverberates through the attic, a cruel punctuation mark to her taunts. Anger flares within me, hot and volatile, but it has nowhere to go. I am powerless here, a prisoner in every sense of the word. Except… tonight, there’s no lock on the door.

The realization dawns slowly, disbelief warring with hope. I stare at the keyhole, gaping and empty, as if mocking me. It isn’t like Ryker to forget something so simple. Carly forgot to lock me up! This is my chance.

My hands tremble as I push the blanket aside and swing my legs over the edge of the cot. Pain courses through my ribs, sharp and unforgiving, but I grit my teeth and force myself to stand. The cold wood beneath my bare feet sends a shiver up my spine.

The door creaks as I ease it open, the sound splitting the silence like a shout. My heart pounds in my chest, every beat a deafening echo in the stillness. I pause, straining to hear any movement. Ryker’s heavy boots or Carly’s cruel laughter, but the house remains silent.

The hallway stretches before me, dimly lit by a single flickering bulb. Shadows pool in the corners, their shapes shifting with each flicker of light. I take a tentative step forward, then another, my breaths shallow and quick. When I reach the staircase, I pause. The faint hum of laughter and clinking glasses drifts up from the dining room below. My pulse races. They’re distracted.

I descend the stairs slowly, each creak of the old wood sending a jolt of fear through me. My gaze darts to every shadow, every darkened corner, but no one comes. When I reach the bottom, I slip toward the back door, my bare feet silent against the tile.

The cool night air hits me like a slap when I step outside. It is sharp and bracing, filling my lungs with a sensation I haven’t felt in months: freedom. I don’t stop to think. I run. The forest looms ahead, dark and endless. Its towering trees and tangled underbrush promise danger, but I welcome it. Anything is better than the suffocating confines of the attic.

Branches snag at my clothes and scratch my skin as I push deeper into the woods. The ground is uneven, roots and rocks threatening to trip me with every step. My breath comes in ragged gasps, each one a fight against the sharp pain in my ribs. But I don’t stop. I can’t.

The mate bond pulls at me, sharp and unrelenting. It feels like a chain tightening around my chest, dragging me back toward Ryker with every step I take. The pain is excruciating, a physical manifestation of his control. "Keep going," I tell myself, even as tears blur my vision. My legs ache, my lungs burn, but I force myself forward.

When I finally reach the edge of the pack’s territory, the pack bond’s hold on me intensifies. It feels as though my heart is being ripped apart, each beat a struggle to survive. My vision swims, the world spinning violently around me. I collapse onto the dirt road, gasping for air. My body refuses to move, every muscle locked in agony. The pain of the pack bond severing is overwhelming, but just as the darkness begins to close in, I feel it. A hand, cold and steady, caught me before I hit the ground.

“Easy,” a deep, smooth voice murmurs. It is calm, unnervingly so, and the chill radiating from the touch soothes my feverish skin. I try to open my eyes, but the world is a blur of shadows and moonlight. All I can make out is a pair of glowing crimson eyes staring down at me.

Their gaze isn’t cruel, nor is it pitying. It’s something else entirely, something that sends a shiver down my spine.

Possession. Yet, I'm surprised to find that his possessive gaze doesn't fill me with the same sense of dread that Ryker's does. It's not that I'm not intimidated. Those crimson eyes seem to bore into my very soul but there's something different about the way this stranger looks at me.

Maybe it's the calmness that radiates from him, a sense of stillness that's the opposite of Ryker's turbulent anger. Or maybe it's the way he holds me, his touch firm but gentle, as if he's cradling something precious. Or it might just be my slippery consciousness.

Whatever it is, I feel a spark of curiosity ignite within me. Who is this stranger, and why does his possessiveness feel almost... comforting? The thought sends a shiver down my spine, and I wonder if I'm losing my mind. But as I look up at the stranger, I know that I'm not afraid of him. Not yet, anyway. I force a smile which I'm sure he sees as a grimace before darkness envelopes me.