CHAPTER 46: CHAPTER 46

My lungs seized. I sprinted harder, bare feet pounding down the corridor, heart hammering so loud I thought it might explode out of my chest.I shoved the heavy doors open and flung myself into the cool night. Guards glanced at me, startled, but none moved to help. Of course not. Nobody interfered when it came to Alpha Zach. The gravel path scraped my soles as I tore across it, past startled omegas balancing laundry baskets. One dropped a sheet; it fluttered into the dirt as I flew by. Then BAM! I slammed into something hard and unyielding. My teeth clacked together. Pain ricocheted through my shoulder. I staggered back. Looked up. Amber eyes. Smirk carved into a face that looked like it had been sculpted by devils. Alpha Zach. Standing right in front of me.

"Inner voice: She runs straight into me. How clumsy. Maybe I should tie bells to her ankles. Make her jingle when she panics. That would be entertaining.

My scream ripped out of me before I could stop it. I spun and bolted the other way.

The training yard. Maybe I could lose him there. Warriors were sparring, swords clashing, muscles gleaming with sweat. If I zigzagged enough, if I blended into the chaos I skidded around the fence and froze. But He was already there. Leaning against the rail, one hand propped under his chin, golden eyes locked on me like I was his private sport.

"AHHHHH!"

I veered hard left, nearly colliding with two warriors who cursed and jumped out of my path. My lungs shrieked. My legs trembled, but I kept going. Through the gardens, past the rows of herbs glistening with dew. Around the well, where a pair of pups dropped their toys to gape at me. Into the kitchen yard, scattering cooks with armfuls of vegetables. Everywhere I turned, he was there. At the end of the path.

Perched casually on a wall.

Even crouched on a rooftop beam, peering down with a predator’s grin.

"Inner Voice: Look at her run. Sweating. Stumbling. Omegas always break so quickly. But this one... she’s stubborn. I like that.

My throat burned. My chest heaved. Sweat poured down my back, soaking my thin dress until it clung like a second skin. Still, I ran with all my strength. Through the laundry lines, the damp clothes whipping against my face. Across the courtyard, where pack members stopped what they were doing to watch. Over a low fence, nearly twisting my ankle. Every corner, every turn, every desperate escape

He was there. Smirking. Waiting. Watching.

"Inner Voice: How long before she collapses? Ten more minutes? Five? Maybe I should count. She’ll fall right into my arms. Hm. Tempting.

I wanted to scream again, but my lungs couldn’t manage it anymore. Only a strangled wheeze came out. Time blurred. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty. The sky seemed darker now, shadows lengthening as if mocking me. My muscles screamed. My knees wobbled. My vision spotted at the edges. And his voice never stopped.

"Inner Voice: Her hair’s plastered to her face. She looks like a drowned rat. Pathetic. Still adorable. Should I scoop her up when she drops? Maybe drag her by the ankle back to my quarters. Dramatic. Yes. I like dramatic.

I nearly started crying. Thirty minutes. That’s how long the nightmare lasted. By the time I staggered back toward his quarters, I wasn’t even sure how my legs moved anymore. Sweat poured down my body, each step heavier than the last. I must have looked insane running in circles, shrieking at shadows, only to return to the very place I’d fled. But I couldn’t go anywhere else. If I collapsed in the dirt, he’d drag me back. And that humiliation would be worse. So I climbed the steps like a prisoner climbing the scaffold. The guards at the door didn’t even blink as I shuffled past, hair hanging in wet ropes, chest heaving like I’d been drowning. Inside, the air pressed down on me again, heavy and suffocating.

And there he was. Exactly where I’d left him. Lounging on the couch, arm draped lazily over the backrest, smirk carved into his face like it had never left. I staggered into the room, then let myself collapse to my knees with a dramatic thud that rattled the floor.

"A-Alpha. My voice cracked, more wheeze than words. "I—I accept my punishment "

But he was silent and just staring at me. Then, his inner voice, rich with laughter:

"Inner Voice: Punishment? She punished herself already. Thirty minutes of running like a fool. Sweaty. Pathetic. Entertaining.

He tilted his head, gaze sweeping over me like I was a circus act he’d just finished watching. Outwardly, he only smirked.

"Cook noodles," he drawled. "Run faster next time."

My jaw dropped. My brain short-circuited. That was it? No snapping bones, no threats, no dragging me to the dungeon? Just that?

His golden eyes gleamed.

"Inner voice: Look at her face. Shocked. Guilty. So easy to read. Maybe I’ll let her think she’s safe. That will scare her more than any punishment ever could.

I slapped my palms over my face. My entire body shook with exhaustion and humiliation. "I hate this place," I whispered into my hands.

His inner laugh slithered into my skull again, cruel and amused.

"Inner voice: Too bad. She’s mine now.

"I hate this place," I whispered into my palms, voice breaking on the last word. My arms trembled under my own weight. Sweat trickled down my temples, dripping into the hollow of my palms until everything smelled of salt and desperation. My knees dug into the rug, the fibers scratching against my skin, but I couldn’t bring myself to move. The silence pressed down heavier than any shout, heavier than the whip of punishment I had been bracing for. I peeked between my fingers. He hadn’t moved.

Alpha Zach lounged exactly where he’d been arm thrown lazily over the couch’s backrest, head tilted just enough to make that smirk look carved into him. Like some dark statue come to life for the sole purpose of tormenting me. His golden eyes glittered under the lantern light, sharp enough to cut me into ribbons without lifting a finger.

"Inner voice: Pathetic little omega. She looks like she’s melting. Maybe she’ll puddle on the floor. Should I mop her up myself? Hm. That would be amusing.

My stomach lurched. He chuckled under his breath, the sound low and infuriatingly casual. Not a sound meant for me. Just him enjoying himself. I wanted to scream. To cry. To bolt again. But my body had already betrayed me once, and I wasn’t stupid enough to test fate twice in a row. I lowered my hands slowly, forcing my breathing to even out. The room still felt like it was spinning. He stretched, rolling his shoulders as though he’d simply finished watching a play, then flicked his gaze lazily toward me.

"Hungry again?"

Hungry? My stomach shriveled into itself. The last thing I wanted was more noodles. The thought of even lifting a pot made my arms ache with phantom exhaustion.

But I knew better than to say no.

"Yes, Alpha," I rasped. My throat was desert-dry. "I will go make it."

"Inner voice: Good girl. She learns fast. Starving, half-dead, and she still crawls to the kitchen when I snap my fingers. Omegas really are useful toys.

The room tilted again. I grabbed the edge of a chair to haul myself upright, legs shaking as though I’d been beaten with clubs instead of running myself into collapse.

He didn’t move to follow me this time. He only watched as I stumbled toward the door, his smirk carved even deeper.

"Inner voice: Look at her shuffle. Like a drunk rat. I should keep her on a leash. Or better, tie a pot to her back so she can cook on command. Portable little chef. Yes. That would be funny.

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood. Don’t react. Don’t let him see. Don’t let him know. The corridor outside was dim, quiet except for the distant scuff of guards shifting their stances. No one dared look at me as I shuffled past, hair plastered to my face, dress clinging to me like damp paper. The kitchen was mercifully empty. Midnight had passed. Pots hung neatly in rows, polished to a dull gleam. The hearth glowed with the last embers of a dying fire. I gripped the counter, letting my body sag against it. Just for a second. Just long enough to keep from collapsing face-first onto the stone floor.

Then I forced myself to move.

The motions blurred. Water into the pot. Flame coaxed higher with trembling hands. Noodles in, stirring until the steam clouded my face and made me cough. My arms ached so badly I nearly dropped the ladle. Still, I kept going. Every scrape of the spoon against the pot sounded too loud, echoing like accusations: coward, fool, slave. By the time I poured the noodles into a bowl, my whole body was shaking. Carrying it back was a nightmare. My arms wanted to give out. Hot broth sloshed dangerously near the edge, threatening to scald me. I bit my lip and focused on each step, willing my hands steady.

At last, I shoved the heavy doors open with my hip and stepped back into the suffocating weight of his quarters.