People drift apart eventually. That’s what happened between me and Finn.
We were good friends as children despite a few years of age gap. I even thought he might’ve liked me more than that—until we grew older.
Everything changed after his fifteenth birthday. He trained harder, spent most of his time with the warriors, the elders, the teachers. The boy I once knew disappeared into someone shaped by duty.
By twenty-two, he became Alpha.
A year later, he had my father executed.
Trained well indeed.
I know treason is a grave offense. But I expected some mercy because of our shared past. Because he was close to my family. Because he knew me.
But he didn’t show any.
I wanted to applaud his integrity, truly, but how could I? It was my family. My father. My life.
And after everything, he treated me like I was nothing. Like trash. Not even worthy of basic decency.
"Why aren’t you answering?" Finn’s voice cut cold and sharp.
"Did someone hurt you?" His eyes darkened. "Your Alpha is asking you a question. You’re expected to answer, omega."
Of course. I could never escape trouble for long.
"Esther came yesterday," I said.
That was all he needed. The flicker in his gaze told me he understood. Just hearing her name, his lover with some loose screws on her head, was enough for him to piece it together.
He knew what she was like. He always knew.
"What did you do to provoke her?"
There it was.
I wanted to scoff. Instead, a bitter smile flickered on my lips which only lasted for a split second.
"If you just stayed hidden and avoided her," he snapped, "you wouldn’t have had to suffer."
As if it was my fault. As if hiding like a rat was the only way to survive.
"She asked for me in your name," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "And with my status, do I even have the right to refuse a Beta’s daughter? She would have found me either way."
She hated me for being chosen. If only she knew, I’d trade places with her in a heartbeat. Anything to be rid of this life. Anything to never be tied to Finn.
"Then don’t provoke her!" he shouted.
My heart jolted at the sudden rise in his voice.
A few nearby servants peeked out, only to retreat the moment they saw Finn’s expression.
I sucked in a shaky breath.
"I don’t have to do anything to provoke her, Alpha. My existence alone is enough."
Finn didn’t reply. His jaw tensed, but his eyes gave nothing away.
I don’t remember ever seeing him being affectionate with Esther. I’ve seen them together plenty of times, at ceremonies, training fields, dinners. But Finn always seemed cold. Distant. Like she was someone he tolerated, not someone he loved.
Sometimes, I wondered if he truly felt anything for her at all, or if she was just a placeholder. Company to warm the space beside him until his real mate arrived.
The conversation didn’t end well.
He left abrupty, silently.
And I couldn’t eat another bite. I just went back to my room, empty in more ways than one.
Days passed. He didn’t ask for me.
Not that I wanted him to.
And thankfully, Esther didn’t show up again either.
But the silence wasn’t comforting. It felt more like the calm before a storm.
The Heirbind Rite was five days away. Just five. Five days until my fate would be sealed.
I tried not to think about it, but how could I not?
Deep down, a quiet ache bloomed. I didn’t want to mother a child who wouldn’t see me as a mother. I didn’t want to offer my body to someone I didn’t love, and who would never love me back.
In my darker thoughts, I imagined slipping away. Running far from the pack’s reach. Far from his control.
I imagined a different life. One where I was free. A life painted in soft pastels instead of cruelty and duty. One where I could breathe without fear.
But dreams are dangerous when you have no power.
And I had none.
As I sat on the narrow balcony of my room, staring out at the vast Alpha estate, I watched the sunlight spill over the flowerbeds. Afternoon gold stretched across the garden, glazing everything in a warm blanket.
Then something flickered in my peripheral vision, a shadow that didn’t belong.
A crow landed on the concrete bannister, its feathers glossy black against the light.
"It’s you again," I murmured.
I’d seen the bird nearly every day this past week. It visited my window, trailed me during garden walks, perched nearby when I sat here. Quiet. Watchful. Companion or spy, I couldn’t tell.
"I don’t have any nuts today," I added, half amused. "I’ll tell Stella to bring some tomorrow."
I’d been feeding it bits of almonds and cashews. It always ate delicately, like it understood the gesture.
But today, something was different.
My eyes drifted to its leg—and froze.
There was something tied around it.
Is that... paper?
I stood slowly, heart beating faster than I liked. When I looked closely, I realized a small rolled paper was tied to its leg!
"Hmm... is that a message for me?"
The crow moved its head as if its nodding. My lips parted.
No, there’s no way it understood me.
Anyway, I was too curious about the rolled paper to mind that. So I crouched to pull it out from the tie on the crow’s leg. It didn’t even move an inch away, letting me do what I wanted.
I got more suspicious.
I unrolled the paper.
Neat handwriting. Clean. A little too elegant for a casual note.
You should run while you still can. Want some help? :)