06 A Little Light

Adasha

I packed everything I could carry and headed out of the house.

My body ached from last night’s punishment, every movement a painful reminder, but I forced myself to walk normally. 

I prayed I wouldn’t bump into anyone. 

The pack was full of watchers, their loyalty to Randy unwavering. 

A single misstep, a moment of hesitation, and everything I had worked for would unravel.

As I approached the packhouse door, a familiar scent stopped me cold. Pamela.

My heart sank. Of all people, it had to be her. 

Pamela wasn’t cruel, but I couldn’t trust her not to alert her mate or someone else. I steadied my breathing, forcing myself to remain calm. 

Running now would only confirm her suspicions.

“Adasha!” she called out.

I turned to her, carefully neutral. Smiling would be too suspicious—after all, what did I have to smile about? 

Everyone in the pack must have heard Randy’s wrath last night when he punished me for talking to Alpha Jason.

I let my exhaustion show, my sadness and brokenness written on my face.

“Pamela,” I sighed, meeting her gaze.

She bowed respectfully, a habit ingrained in the pack hierarchy.

“We both know there’s no need for that. Randy isn’t here,” I said, trying to keep my tone even.

She relaxed slightly at that, though her eyes still watched me carefully. 

Despite his monstrous treatment of me, Randy insisted on enforcing respect for me as Luna. 

It was one of his contradictions: I was his possession, yet disrespect from others was forbidden.

“How are you?” she asked, her tone softer now.

We both knew what she meant. My silence was answer enough, and I sighed heavily.

“Honestly, Adasha,” she said after a moment, her voice tinged with pity, “when I heard you would be Luna, I was jealous. But now? Now I pity you. The guy isn’t in his right mind.”

She was right. 

Randy might have been a great catch if he wasn’t himself—if his charm wasn’t a mask for his cruelty.

I nodded, not trusting myself to say more.

“Where are you going?” she asked finally, her eyes flicking to the small bag in my hand.

“To the market,” I said smoothly, willing my voice to remain steady. “I was hoping to make him something special, to calm him down.”

She tilted her head, assessing me. “You know it won’t work, Adasha. Why do you even bother? He’s a monster.”

I couldn’t respond. Someone could be listening, and even the truth wasn’t safe to speak aloud here.

“I have to try,” I said instead, tears prickling my eyes. 

The weight of everything—the lies, the pain, the hopelessness—pressed down on me. I had never imagined my life would turn out like this. 

At twenty-five, I should have been building a future, not clawing my way out of a nightmare.

Pamela’s gaze shifted back to the bag in my hand.

“And you’re going to the market with a bag instead of a purse?” she asked, her tone light but her eyes sharp.

My fingers tightened around the strap instinctively, betraying my nerves. 

My wolf remained silent, suppressing her presence to keep my emotions in check. But my quickening heartbeat and shaky breaths told Pamela everything she needed to know.

We stared at each other, the air heavy between us. My mouth opened to offer an excuse, but no words came out—only a gasp as I realised I had been holding my breath.

I saw it in her eyes: realisation.

Tears spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them, the weight of being caught crashing over me. I had failed again.

Pamela stepped closer, her expression unreadable as she studied me. Then, to my surprise, her voice entered my mind through the pack link.

“You better get going so you can get a good head start, Adasha. I’ll pretend you went to the market to buy you more time. Make sure he doesn’t catch you this time around.”

Relief washed over me like a wave, and I let out a shaky sigh.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice breaking with gratitude.

Pamela gave me a small nod, her expression hardening. “Go. Now.”

I looked at Pamela, searching her face for any sign of insincerity, but I found none. Deep down, I knew she was a rare ally, a quiet yet steadfast support.

“Thank you”, I linked her, my gratitude pouring through the connection.

She gave me a small nod, her expression resolute, and I wiped my tears away. Straightening my back, I stepped out of the packhouse, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The world outside seemed oblivious to my turmoil. 

People moved about, busy with their own lives, sparing me no more than a passing glance. It was perfect. 

I kept my pace steady and unhurried, every step calculated to appear casual.

As I reached the edge of the woods, the fear gripping my chest began to loosen, its hold weakening with every step into the trees. 

The moment the dense forest surrounded me, I exhaled a shaky breath. I wasn’t free yet, but this was a start.

Wasting no time, I slipped out of my dress, folding it hastily and shoving it into my bag. The cool air kissed my skin, and I took a deep breath, grounding myself.

Then, I let go.

The familiar sensation of my body shifting washed over me, bones realigning, muscles stretching as I transformed.

Pain gave way to a powerful sense of relief as I became one with my wolf, Willow. 

The aches and bruises from last night’s punishment dulled, replaced by the strength and speed of my wolf form.

I grabbed the bag in my mouth and bolted, my paws pounding against the forest floor. 

The earth blurred beneath me as I wove through the trees, leaping over fallen branches and roots.

The wind rushed past, carrying the faint, exhilarating scent of freedom, and I pushed myself harder, faster.

This was it—my chance to reclaim my life.

With every stride, I prayed. I prayed to fate, to the moon, to anyone who might listen. I prayed for freedom, for safety, for the strength to keep running. 

My breath came in steady bursts as determination surged through me.

I didn’t know where I was going, but it didn’t matter. All I knew was that I wasn’t looking back.

Not this time.