I couldn't take it anymore. The walls of the pack house felt like they were closing in, each creak and whisper echoing the same words in my head you'll never leave. My chest was tight, my hands trembling, my throat raw from silent sobs.
Everywhere I turned, I saw him. The psycho Alpha's shadow seemed to live in every corner, in every flicker of light that touched the walls. Even when he wasn't there, I felt him watching, listening, mocking me in that cold, velvety inner voice of his.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to wake up and find myself in my tiny apartment, surrounded by the familiar hum of the city and the smell of disinfectant from the hospital where I used to work. But that world was gone. Or maybe I was.
My heart pounded as I whispered to myself, "There has to be a way. There has to be a way out."
