Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Astra
It shouldn’t surprise me that Alpha Gareth refuses to see me.
Within a wolf pack, the alpha’s doors are open to all pack members. They can enter at any time. But me? I have to beg to see ours. The warriors guarding the main pack hall have refused to let me in, the disdain on their faces pissing me off.
“It’s been two days!” I get right up in the bulkier of the two men’s space. “I may not have a wolf, but I’m still part of this pack! I have every right to go in there!”
The warrior, Henrik, exchanges an amused look with his companion before crossing his arms over his chest. “You go in if I let you go in. And I’m telling you he doesn’t have time for your kind. Get lost before I beat that into your skull.”
The other warrior, George, laughs. “Do it. Let’s see whether her brains go splat on the ground.”
The dangerous gleam in their eyes has me taking a step back. “You can’t do this. This isn’t right. He’s my alpha, too.”
George tilts his head, studying me with an unnerving look. “Is it just me, or has this one become a little too mouthy lately? Should we throw her in the woods for a few hours? The sun is going to set soon. Let’s see if she survives the night.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I slowly reach for my knife. At this point, I don’t know if I’ll have to defend myself or not.
A deep, commanding voice cuts through the tension before anything can happen. “What is going on here?”
All three of us freeze. Alpha Gareth stands in the doorway of the pack hall, his imposing frame filling the entrance. His dark hair is streaked with silver at the temples, and his cold, gray eyes sweep over the scene with barely contained irritation.
Henrik and George immediately come to attention, their earlier bravado evaporating. “A–Alpha,” Henrik stammers. “We were just—”
“I’ve been trying to see you for two days, and they won’t let me in,” I interrupt him, my voice stronger than I feel. My hand lowers from the hidden knife in my belt. “I have the right to request an audience.”
Alpha Gareth’s gaze shifts to me, and a dark expression flickers across his face.
For a brief moment, a childhood memory rises, one that I had forgotten up till now.
I don’t remember how old I am, but my mother is shoving me into the bedroom, begging me to be quiet.
Her face is pale, and she’s too thin. I recall the voice from outside the door, the same voice of the man who slaughtered my grandfather.
I hear my mother’s pained whimpers through the thin walls and the harsh sound of the words spoken by the man.
He is hurting her. Hours later, she opens the door, her scent implying that she has showered.
I remember the bruises all over her, the way she limps and holds me, her expression blank.
“It’s my price to pay,” she whispers as she strokes my hair, her voice empty. “My price.”
My blood curdles as the image grips me, unbidden. What was that? Where did it come from?
I don’t have many memories of my mother, and the ones I do have are engulfed in a haze I’ve never been able to penetrate. So, why—
“Is that so?” Alpha Gareth is speaking, and a shiver crawls down my spine. His voice is deceptively calm, but I can hear the threat underneath it, the same tone I heard in—
“Alpha, we were just following protocol—” George begins.
“Protocol?” Gareth’s voice drops to a dangerous whisper. “Protocol states that every pack member has the right to request an audience with the alpha. You think you get to decide whom I see?”
Both warriors turn pale, and Henrik gulps before saying, “No, sir. We just thought—”
“You thought wrong.” The Alpha’s attention returns to me, and I fight the urge to back away. “Follow me.”
I keep my chin up as I walk past Henrik and George, ignoring their murderous glares. My leg throbs with each step, but I force myself not to limp. Not in front of Gareth.
The pack hall’s interior is grand—polished wood floors, tapestries depicting our pack’s history, and the massive throne-like chair where Alpha Gareth holds court. But we don’t stop there. He leads me down a corridor to his private office.
The door closes behind us with a click that sounds unnaturally loud in the silence. His office is spartanly decorated—a large desk, leather chairs, and shelves lined with pack records and territorial maps. The only personal touch is a photograph of him and his daughter on the desk.
He takes his seat without offering me a chair. I know better than to sit.
His fingers steepled, he studies me. “What do you want, Astra?” His voice is cold, dismissive. Like I’m vermin he is forced to deal with.
“I want to leave the pack.”
The words hang in the air between us. For a moment, Alpha Gareth’s carefully controlled expression slips, revealing genuine surprise that quickly transforms into what looks suspiciously like relief.
“Leave?” He leans back in his chair, and I swear I see the ghost of a smile. “And go where, exactly?”
“There’s a human man willing to marry me.” My voice remains even despite my racing heart. “Someone who wants me.”
Now he does smile, but there’s nothing warm about it. It’s predatory and mocking at the same time.
“A human.” He says it like he’s savoring the words. “How fitting.”
I wait, unsure what response he wants. The silence continues, and I can feel his satisfaction radiating across the desk.
“You understand what this means?” His voice takes on an almost pleased tone. “If you leave to marry a human, you renounce all ties to this pack. You will never be allowed to return. Not for visits, not for emergencies, not for anything.”
“I understand.”
“Your mother’s bloodline dies with you. Any claim to pack heritage, any rights you might have had—gone forever.”
My chest tightens at the mention of my mother. At the way he says it, like he’s relishing the idea of erasing every trace of her legacy.
“I said I understand.”
He stands abruptly, moving to a window that overlooks the settlement.
“Your grandfather thought he was so clever, you know. Using his strength to protect his daughter’s dirty little secret.
” Gareth’s back is to me, but I hear the venom in his voice.
“He should’ve handled the problem when you were born. ”
My blood turns to ice. Problem. That’s what I’ve always been to him—not a person but a problem that should have been eliminated.
“My grandfather is dead,” I say quietly, my hands clenched at my sides. “You don’t have to drag him into this.”
“Yes, he is.” Gareth turns to face me, and I see the cold, contented look in his gray eyes. “And now, his last mistake finally removes itself from my territory.”
The casual cruelty in his words hits me like a physical blow. I’ve always known he despised me, but hearing it stated so plainly makes my heart break.
“You’re certain about this human?”
“Yes.”
“Does he know what you are?”
This is where I pause. If I reveal that Andrew is aware of our kind, he will be killed.
“No.”
Gareth nods slowly, his satisfaction evident.
“Then I suppose there’s nothing more to discuss.
” Returning to his desk, he pulls out a piece of official pack stationery with more enthusiasm than the situation warrants.
“You have until the end of the week to gather your belongings and get off my land.”
“That’s it?” The words slip out before I can stop them.
He looks up from the paper, his expression sarcastically surprised. “What did you expect? A tearful goodbye?”
Heat flashes through me. “I expected...some acknowledgment that I’ve served this pack faithfully for years. That I’ve risked my life gathering herbs nobody else would dare collect.”
“Served?” He laughs humorlessly. “You’ve been a drain on pack resources since the day you were born. The herbs you collect barely cover the cost of keeping you alive.”
“That’s not true—”
“Isn’t it?” He leans forward, his tone turning vicious. “How much do we spend on your pathetic little cottage? On the minimal food allowance? On tolerating your existence when any sensible alpha would have put you out of your misery years ago?”
I swallow, my careful composure cracking. “I’ve gone into those woods when no one else would—”
“Because you’re expendable.” The words are like a slap in my face. “If something kills you out there, it’s no great loss. That’s the only reason we send you.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
“Now, you’re doing me the favor of removing yourself voluntarily,” he continues, sounding cheerful now. “Saves me the trouble of finding a more permanent solution.”
I blink, then turn to leave.
“End of the week,” he adds as I reach for the door handle.
The threat in his voice is unmistakable. I walk out of his office with my head high, past Henrik and George, who smirk as if they know exactly what transpired in there, through the pack hall, and into the evening air.
My hands don’t start shaking until I’m halfway home.
Five days. I have five days to escape before Alpha Gareth decides I’m too much trouble to let me live.
Five days before he changes his mind about letting me leave voluntarily.
Forty-eight hours pass in a blur of packing and planning.
I don’t have many belongings—a few changes of clothes, my mother’s journal, some basic supplies, and the small stash of coins I’ve managed to save.
Everything fits into one worn travel bag, which somehow makes leaving feel both easier and more depressing.
Luna follows me everywhere, as if she senses something is changing.
She has never liked being left alone, but now she practically glues herself to my side, her amber eyes watchful and worried.
I prepare some dried beef for her, as I’ll be bringing her with me.
She rarely leaves my cottage, but I’m not leaving her behind.