05 Ready To Escape

Adasha

There was no time to second-guess, no space for hesitation. I had been planning this moment for years—three long, agonizing years of plotting, preparing, and waiting for the right time to escape. 

Each failed attempt had come at a terrible cost.

To Randy, my efforts to leave weren’t just acts of defiance; they were personal insults, each failure punished with a fury that left me shattered in every possible way. 

His rage broke my body and crushed my spirit, leaving scars that ran far deeper than the surface. Every attempt chipped away at who I once was, leaving only fragments of myself behind.

But not this time.

This time, I wasn’t planning to fail.

Some might suggest I seek help from Randy’s family, but they were no saviors. 

They were as cruel as he was, circling me like vultures, eager for my downfall. 

Their judgment and disdain were relentless, treating me as though I should be grateful for a life that was never truly mine to begin with. 

Now I understood why: I wasn’t just their Luna; I was bought property.

Randy, on his best days, could play the perfect Prince Charming. For a fleeting moment, his charm could almost make me forget the nightmare he became on his worst. 

But those worst days came too often, and when they did, even the devil seemed kinder by comparison.

His remorse was hollow, his promises empty, his declarations of love as toxic as the man himself. 

I had come to see Randy for what he truly was: volatile, cruel, and utterly dangerous.

And now, his ultimate weapon against me—my parents—was nullified.

The truth had set me free in a way I hadn’t expected. 

Learning that the people I had clung to, the ones I’d endured so much pain to protect, had sold me like a piece of furniture erased the guilt that had weighed me down for so long. I owed them nothing. I owed him nothing.

This time, I wasn’t shackled by fear or duty. I was leaving, and if Randy wanted to turn his wrath on them, so be it. 

They had forfeited my loyalty when they sold me into this living hell.

Staying wasn’t an option anymore. Staying meant death—that was the only certainty.

No mark on my neck, no title as Luna of the strongest pack, could justify the price of my life. I had to leave, and I had to do it now.

I packed my essentials into a small bag, careful not to betray my intentions. 

The pack was full of watchers—loyal to Randy, ever vigilant, and quick to alert him at the slightest hint of rebellion. 

My escape had to be flawless, invisible. I couldn’t afford a single misstep.

I packed only what I needed to get across the country, far from his reach, his power, and the suffocating weight of his presence. 

From the safe, I had taken a modest stash of cash. It was nothing compared to the vast ocean of Randy’s wealth, but it was enough for me to disappear. 

A new identity, a fresh start—maybe even a quiet life running a small pastry shop in some forgotten town.

As for the mark on my neck, I already had a story ready. I’d tell anyone who asked that my mate was dead. 

A lie, yes, but one I clung to with fervent hope. Perhaps one day, it would become the truth, though Randy’s cursed resilience made even that hope feel tenuous.

I moved quickly, my hands steady and my resolve unshaken. 

There was no room for hesitation now. 

The plan was simple: make it out of the packhouse, slip into the woods, and run. Freedom was close—I could almost taste it.

I was twenty-five, no longer the naïve girl who believed Randy’s empty promises to change. 

I had long since numbed myself to his words, his crocodile tears, and his so-called love. He wasn’t going to change. He never would.

This was my moment to break free.

I had learned from every failed attempt, each one a painful lesson etched into my memory. 

Over the years, I refined my plan until there was no room for error.

“Don’t reach out to family or friends. Don’t overpack—just money and the bare essentials. Stay calm, avoid suspicion. Don’t use public transport or travel on the main roads. The woods, though dangerous, are safer. Above all, don’t look back.”

These lessons became my mantra. I repeated them silently, over and over, as I worked. 

Each word was a step closer to the life I deserved—a life without Randy, without fear, without chains.

This was my chance.

And I wasn’t going to waste it.