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After My Alpha Commanded, I Escaped His Chains Novel Cover

After My Alpha Commanded, I Escaped His Chains

Bound by an Alpha's absolute command, a submissive werewolf finds herself trapped in a cycle of control and cold possessiveness. When her mate’s demands cross the line, she chooses to defy the biological bond and break her literal chains. Her daring escape marks the start of a dangerous journey toward freedom. Now, she must navigate a world beyond his reach while he hunts her down, determined to reclaim his runaway bride at any cost.
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Chapter 3

The makeshift cremation site stood stark against the evening sky, a rushed affair with none of the traditional pack honors my son deserved. My tears had dried, leaving only a hollow ache as I clutched the small wooden box containing Finnian's ashes. The ceremony—if it could even be called that—had been brief and cold, with only Healer Maeve and a few sympathetic pack members in attendance. Marcus had not bothered to come until the very end, arriving with Victoria at his side.

I knelt by the small altar I'd hastily constructed, placing the three memorial totems I'd carved through my tears—symbols of protection, peace, and return to the Moon Goddess. My fingers trembled as I arranged them, whispering the ancient prayers my mother had taught me.

"Such a waste of time," Victoria's voice cut through my grief like a blade.

I looked up to see her approaching, Marcus following behind her with an impatient expression. Without warning, Victoria reached down and snatched the box of ashes from the altar.

"What are you doing?" I gasped, lunging forward.

"The pack waste grounds are more fitting," she said, her eyes gleaming with malice. "For a weak pup who couldn't even handle proper wolf medicine."

I scrambled to my feet. "Give him back to me!"

Marcus stepped between us, his face hard. "The Luna has made a decision."

"I am the Luna!" I cried, my voice breaking.

His laugh was cruel. "Not for much longer."

Victoria turned and walked toward the edge of the clearing where the pack disposed of their refuse—rotting meat, broken furniture, anything deemed worthless. Horror rose in my throat as I realized her intention.

"No!" I screamed, rushing forward only to be stopped by Marcus's Alpha command.

"Stay where you are," he ordered, his tone laced with power that froze my muscles in place.

I could only watch, paralyzed, as Victoria upended the box, scattering my baby's ashes across the filthy ground. She didn't stop there. With deliberate cruelty, she returned to the altar and, one by one, crushed my memorial totems beneath her heel.

"There," she said, brushing dust from her hands. "Now we can move forward with the celebration."

Marcus nodded his approval, his eyes never leaving her face. The bond between us, once vibrant with love, now felt like a rusted chain binding me to a monster.

* * *

The night air was cool against my tear-stained face as Marcus dragged me from my bed. Hours had passed since Victoria's desecration, hours I'd spent trying to gather what remained of my son's ashes, salvaging what little I could from the waste ground's filth.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, stumbling as he pulled me roughly through the darkened pack grounds.

"Somewhere to think about your place," he growled, his fingers digging painfully into my arm.

The scent hit me before I saw it—the sickly-sweet odor of wolfsbane blooming in the moonlight. My steps faltered as we approached the grove, my heart racing with fear. Most werewolves found wolfsbane merely unpleasant, but I had a rare genetic sensitivity that Marcus well knew.

"Marcus, please," I begged, trying to pull away. "You know what it does to me."

"Maybe it will finally wake your wolf," he sneered, shoving me forward into the thick of the purple flowers. "Or maybe it will prove once and for all how pathetic you truly are."

The effect was immediate. My skin erupted in angry welts, my throat constricting as the toxin invaded my system. I fell to my knees, gasping for air.

"Kneel there until you learn respect," Marcus commanded, stepping back to watch my suffering with cold detachment.

The wolfsbane's poison worked quickly, sending waves of fire through my veins. I could feel my consciousness slipping, darkness edging my vision as my body fought the toxin. Somewhere deep inside, my wolf retreated further, desperately trying to protect us both from the assault.

"M-Marcus," I wheezed, reaching out a trembling hand. "Help..."

His silhouette blurred as my vision failed. The last thing I saw before collapsing was his back as he walked away, leaving me to die among the toxic blooms.

* * *

I awoke to the sterile smell of the medical wing, my body heavy with exhaustion. The first sensation was pain—sharp, throbbing pain at my neck. I tried to reach up, but my arms felt leaden.

"Don't move," Healer Maeve's voice came softly from beside me. "You need to rest."

"What happened?" I whispered, my throat raw.

Maeve's eyes filled with tears as she adjusted the bandages wrapped around my neck. "One of the night guards found you in the wolfsbane grove and brought you here."

Memory flooded back—Marcus, the toxic flowers, the crushing weight of the poison. "How long have I been unconscious?"

"Almost two days," she said, her voice dropping even lower. "Sarah, there's something else."

The grave expression on her face sent ice through my veins. "What is it?"

Maeve glanced nervously at the door before leaning closer. "While you were unconscious, Marcus authorized Ritualist Borin to begin the process of removing your Luna marking."

My hand flew to my bandaged neck, horror washing over me as I felt the raw, surgical wounds beneath the dressing. The mate mark—the sacred bite that had bound Marcus and me together—was being systematically erased without my consent.

"He can't do that," I whispered, though I knew he already had.

"He's planning to transfer it," Maeve continued, unable to meet my eyes. "To Victoria. The ceremony is scheduled for the full moon."

The room seemed to spin around me as the full implications hit. Not only had Marcus tried to kill me with the wolfsbane, but he was also erasing our bond—our history—to replace me with the woman who had helped murder our son.

As I lay there, broken and betrayed, something hardened within me. If I survived this, there would be no forgiveness. No mercy. Only justice—for me, and for my precious Finnian whose ashes lay scattered in filth.

But first, I needed to escape. Before the full moon came and the last traces of my Luna marking disappeared forever.

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