Page 39 of Chased By My Grumpy Alpha
“Because you don’t have a wolf.”
“Because I don’t belong.” Her voice gets quieter. “I never have. Ever since my mother died, I’ve been...” She trails off.
“You’ve been what?”
“Nothing. It’s not important.”
I remain silent, waiting for her to speak because I know she will.
She looks back at me, and for a moment I see past the brave façade to the pain underneath. “I’ve been treated like garbage. Like something they wish would just disappear.”
The matter-of-fact way she says it, without self-pity or dramatic tears, somehow makes it worse. This isn’t someone seeking sympathy; this is someone stating a simple truth about her life.
“How long has this been going on?”
“Since I was young, maybe eight. That’s when my mother died.” She adjusts Luna on her shoulder, using the motion to avoid my eyes. “The pack...They made it clear I wasn’t welcome anymore.”
Eight years old. She’s been enduring this treatment since she was eight years old.
“Where did you live?” As soon as the question slips out of me, I recall the little house I searched.
“In a cottage at the edge of the settlement. Away from everyone else.” Her smile is brittle. “They gave me just enoughto survive, and in exchange, I did the jobs no one else wanted. Collecting herbs from the most dangerous parts of the forest, mostly.”
“They sent you into unsafe territory alone.” It’s not a question.
“Every week. The Wyvern Woods, past the territorial markers where even adult shifters won’t go.” She shrugs like it’s nothing. “I was the only one willing to do it.”
“Because you didn’t have a choice.”
“Because if I didn’t do it, I didn’t eat.” The brutal honesty in her voice makes my hands clench into fists. “Simple as that.”
I’m quiet for a long time, processing this. My father sent me to retrieve what he thought was their most powerful female—someone he assumed was valued and respected. Instead, I’ve found a woman who has been systematically abused and isolated by her own pack for years.
“Lucian?” Her voice is uncertain. “You look really angry.”
I realize I’ve been standing completely still, my entire body stiff with barely controlled rage. “I am angry.” When I look at her, she actually takes a step back.
“At me?”
The question is so quietly vulnerable that it breaks through my fury. “No. Not at you.”
“Oh.” Relief floods her features. “Good. For a second there, you looked like you wanted to kill someone.”
“I do.”
She studies my face carefully. “Well, Henrik and his friends are already dead, so...”
“Not them.”
Understanding dawns in her green eyes. “Oh. Alpha Gareth.”
“Among others.”
Her lips curve into a small grin. “Don’t worry about it too much. They’re history now. And I’m going to be free soon.”
The smile that spreads across her face now is radiant, transforming her entire expression. Despite everything—the abuse, the attempted murder, the infected wounds and fever—she is genuinely excited about her future.
“Free,” she repeats, like the word tastes sweet. “Can you believe it? After all these years, I’m actually going to be free.”
