
After My Alpha Locked Me Away for Five Years
Chapter 2
The burner phone vibrated in my palm, a harsh buzz against my numb skin. I looked down. A string of coordinates glowed on the screen, followed by three words: *I'm here. Run.*
I didn't hesitate. I grabbed a small pouch of dried rosemary, mint, and pine needles I’d secretly scavenged from the pack clinic’s disposal bins over the years. I crushed the brittle leaves between my palms and rubbed the bitter dust over my neck, wrists, and clothes. It would mask my scent just enough to give me a head start.
I squeezed through the narrow basement window. The tight, dark space made my chest seize—a phantom echo of the claustrophobia Hayes had drilled into me—but the cold night air pulled me forward.
I stuck to the shadows, moving with a silent rhythm I’d perfected over five years of being invisible. I knew the patrol routes better than the guards themselves. Three minutes past the oak tree. Wait for the shift change at the southern perimeter. Keep low in the tall grass.
Gravel crunched nearby. A flashlight beam swept through the trees. A Delta guard.
Panic spiked in my chest. I dove into a thick tangle of blackberry bushes just as the beam hit the path where I’d been standing. Thorns sliced through my jeans, biting deep into my calves and forearms, but I didn't flinch. I clamped my hands over my mouth and nose. My lungs screamed for air. They burned, tight and desperate, but I held it. Hayes thought I was weak. He thought I was a pathetic, dormant Omega who lacked the discipline to survive without his scraps.
I wasn't.
The guard cursed, kicking a rock before turning back toward the pack house. I exhaled a shaky, silent breath, scrambled out of the thorns, and ran.
I sprinted until my legs went numb, crashing through the dense forest until the trees finally began to thin. There it was. The territorial border. Just beyond the invisible line, a massive black SUV idled in the dark, its headlights killed.
The driver's door opened. A man stepped out into the moonlight.
It was Franklin. But he wasn't the lanky, smiling boy who used to sneak me extra desserts from the kitchens. He was a mountain of a man, his shoulders broad and his jaw cut from granite. Even from a distance, I could feel the raw, thrumming power of an Alpha radiating from him. But unlike Hayes's suffocating dominance, Franklin's aura felt like a warm hearth.
I stumbled forward. The moment my boots crossed the boundary line, it happened.
The crushing, invisible weight of Hayes's Alpha command—a toxic pressure I hadn't even realized I was carrying—shattered. My lungs expanded fully for the first time in five years. The heavy tether holding me down evaporated into the night air.
My knees buckled.
I didn't hit the dirt. Strong arms caught me, pulling me against a solid chest. He smelled like rain-soaked earth and safety.
"I've got you, Paisy," Franklin murmured, his deep voice vibrating against my cheek. "I've got you."
The dam broke. The tears I had refused to shed in the pack house poured out of me. I sobbed, gripping his jacket like a lifeline. He didn't shush me. He didn't tell me to be quiet or call me weak. He just held me tight, shielding me from the wind, before gently lifting me and bundling me into the passenger seat of the warm SUV.
He climbed in, threw the car into drive, and the Stoneclaw Pack disappeared in the rearview mirror.
The heater blasted over my shivering body as we sped down the empty highway. I stared at Franklin's profile, illuminated by the dashboard lights.
"Why did he banish you?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, raw from crying. "Hayes told everyone it was insubordination. That you challenged his authority."
Franklin’s grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white. His jaw ticked. For a long moment, the only sound was the hum of the tires on the asphalt.
"He lied," Franklin said softly, glancing at me. His amber eyes held a sorrow that made my chest ache. "It wasn't insubordination, Paisley. It was because of you."
"Me? I was just an Omega. I hadn't even shifted."
"You were never an Omega," Franklin said, his voice thick with a fierce, protective edge. "Five years ago, before you came of age, my wolf surfaced during a training run. You were sitting on the porch. My wolf didn't just look at you, Paisley. He bowed."
I stopped breathing. "What?"
"Wolves only bow to superiors," Franklin explained, his tone urgent. "My wolf recognized you. He felt your bloodline. You're a high-tier wolf, Paisley. A latent Gamma bloodline, maybe even higher. Your wolf was destined to be incredibly powerful."
The pieces of the puzzle slammed together, sharp and blinding.
"Hayes saw it happen," Franklin continued. "He saw my wolf submit to a teenage girl. He was terrified. Hayes's entire identity is built on his dominance. The thought of his fated mate being stronger than him, overshadowing him? It threatened everything he was. So, he exiled me to get rid of the witness."
I stared out the window into the pitch-black night, my mind reeling.
"He didn't have Bond Aversion," I whispered, the realization tasting like ash on my tongue. "He didn't lock me in that basement for my safety. He did it to break me. To suppress my wolf with his Alpha aura before she could ever wake up."
"Yes," Franklin said softly.
Five years of isolation. Five years of believing I was a broken, useless burden. All because of a weak man's fragile ego.
Deep in my chest, beneath the layers of trauma and fear, something shifted. A low, rumbling vibration that I hadn't felt since I was a child.
My wolf wasn't dead. She was just waking up.
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