After My Alpha Killed My Mother, I Escaped Him

The rogue's eyes widened as Jaxxon's grip tightened around his throat. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth where the Alpha had struck him moments before.

"Again," Jaxxon demanded, his voice a dangerous growl. "Describe her."

"She was selling carved totems," the rogue gasped, struggling for breath. "In the Northern markets. Black hair, like midnight. Her hands moved like they were dancing as she worked."

I could almost see the scene playing out in my mind—Jaxxon's face transforming from rage to something worse: hope.

"And you're certain it was her?" Jaxxon's grip loosened slightly.

"I've never seen anyone carve like that," the rogue whispered. "The wolves she carved looked alive. She had a moon stone pendant..."

My mother's pendant. The one I still wore beneath my clothes every day.

Jaxxon's eyes flashed black. "Where exactly?"

"The Northern Territories. Near the misty valleys."

The rogue's words had barely left his lips when Jaxxon's hand closed around his throat with a sickening crack. The body crumpled to the floor, eyes still wide with the shock of betrayal.

"Alpha," Marcus, Jaxxon's Beta, stepped forward cautiously. "We can't just—"

"We leave at dawn," Jaxxon snarled, not bothering to look at his Beta. "Elite trackers only. No one enters the Northern Territories without my permission."

I felt a chill run down my spine as if the very air had turned cold. Jaxxon was coming for me.

---

Sunlight streamed through the workshop windows as I carefully carved the final details into a wolf totem. Gregory had been teaching me more advanced techniques, and I found peace in the rhythmic motion of the knife against wood.

"You've improved," Gregory remarked, his weathered hands adjusting my grip slightly. "Your wolf guides your hands now."

I smiled, feeling a flush of pride. My wolf was stronger these days, though still cautious. The carving helped us reconnect, piece by piece.

The door burst open with such force that it slammed against the wall. Demetrius stood in the doorway, his usually calm expression replaced by urgent intensity.

"Eleanora," he said, my name sounding like both a warning and a prayer on his lips. "You need to come with me. Now."

Gregory straightened slowly, his ancient eyes narrowing. "What is it, boy?"

"Alpha wolves," Demetrius replied grimly. "At least a dozen. Crossing the northern border."

My knife clattered to the floor as ice flooded my veins. "How do you know?"

"I felt them." His amber eyes met mine, and for an instant, I saw something else there—a flash of molten gold that disappeared so quickly I wondered if I'd imagined it. "Their Alpha is powerful. Dangerous."

"Jaxxon," I whispered, the name tasting like ash on my tongue.

Demetrius crossed the room in three long strides, his hand gentle but firm as it closed around mine. "No Alpha will touch you again," he promised, his voice dropping to a register that made my wolf stir with interest. "Not while I live."

Something in his tone made me look up sharply. In that moment, I saw beyond his careful mask to something ancient and powerful lurking beneath the surface.

"Who are you?" I breathed.

Before he could answer, a howl split the air—unearthly and commanding. My wolf cowered inside me, recognizing the voice that had once been our master.

"He's found me," I whispered.

---

The village square was bathed in late afternoon light when Jaxxon's warriors surrounded it. I stood frozen beside Gregory's workshop, my carving tools still clutched in my hands.

Jaxxon emerged from between two buildings, his tall frame silhouetted against the setting sun. His eyes found mine immediately, and the look on his face stole my breath—a terrible mixture of relief and rage that made him look half-mad.

"Eleanora," he breathed, and my name sounded like both a prayer and a curse on his lips.

He looked different—thinner, wilder. Streaks of gray marred his once-glossy black hair, and his eyes held a feverish gleam that made my skin crawl.

"You're alive," he said, taking a step toward me. "Alive."

I backed away instinctively, bumping into Demetrius's solid chest behind me. His hands settled protectively on my shoulders.

"Don't touch her," Jaxxon snarled, his gaze snapping to Demetrius. "She's mine."

"She belongs to no one," Demetrius replied, his voice steady but carrying an undertone I'd never heard before.

Jaxxon's face contorted with fury. He took another step forward, and I could feel the weight of his Alpha power pressing against me like a physical force.

"Eleanora," he commanded, his Alpha Voice amplified by desperation and rage. "Submit and come to me!"

The words hit me like a physical blow. My knees buckled beneath me as years of conditioning, of responding to that voice, took hold. My wolf whimpered in confusion—caught between her instinct to obey and her growing trust in the man behind me.

As I fought to remain standing, I caught sight of something in Jaxxon's eyes that chilled me to the bone—not love, not even desire, but possession. Pure and simple.

He didn't want me back because he loved me.

He wanted me back because I was his.