Chapter 9
Nine
ANYA
Ineed to be faster.
My sandals slap against the pavement as I run from the bright lights. The men trust me right now, so I have a little bit of time.
My ankle twists as my heel catches in a crack in the pavement, sending a bolt of pain up my leg.
“Fuck,” I hiss through clenched teeth, stumbling to regain my balance.
These stupid sandals weren’t made for sprinting.
I hop on one foot to the side of the road and bend down to unbuckle them, my fingers trembling with adrenaline and urgency.
Every second I spend fumbling with the tiny clasps is another second for them to realize I’m gone, to start hunting me down.
Lorenzo and Alaric will have noticed my absence by now.
I picture their faces transforming from confusion to anger, imagine Alaric pulling out his phone to alert the others.
How long before the entire island is searching for their precious omega?
The thought sends another surge of panic through me, and I finally manage to wrench both sandals off my feet.
I clutch them in one hand and take off again, the rough pavement scraping my bare soles.
It hurts, but the pain is nothing compared to the terror of being caught.
I need to find a way off this island before they find me.
I need to escape before they turn me into whatever the fuck an omega is supposed to be.
The ocean comes into view as the road curves, moonlight dancing across its dark surface. The marina. Boats. Freedom.
If I can hide on one of the boats until morning, I might have a chance. I’ll disappear into the crowds, make my way back to the city, and forget this nightmare ever happened.
My toes dig into the sand as I leave the road behind, the cool grains a relief after the hot pavement.
I slow my pace, suddenly aware of how exposed I am on the open beach.
The moon is too bright tonight, casting everything in a pale blue glow that makes hiding nearly impossible.
I crouch low, moving in short bursts, using the sparse vegetation for cover whenever possible.
The distant sound of voices makes me freeze in place.
Workers at the marina, their silhouettes visible against the water’s gleaming surface.
They’re loading something onto one of the larger boats, their movements unhurried, their laughter carrying on the night breeze.
I need to get past them without being seen.
I press my body against the trunk of a palm tree, its rough bark scratching my bare arms, and wait for my opportunity.
My mind races, planning my next move.
The ferry docks are on the far side of the marina. If I skirt around the edge, staying in the shadows, I might make it. I can hide somewhere on the ferry until morning, and when it departs, I’ll be on it. Then I’ll be free.
The workers move away from the dock, heading toward a small building with yellow light spilling from its windows.
Now’s my chance. I dart forward, my feet silent on the sand, keeping low to avoid being seen.
The sandals dangling from my hand bounce against my thigh with each step.
I try not to think about what Marcus and Lorenzo did to me and how part of me wanted more. No, I need to focus.
Escape now, sort through confusing feelings later.
As I near the docks, the sand gives way to wooden planks. I slow my pace, placing each foot carefully to avoid making noise. The gentle lap of waves against the boat hulls masks my movements as my eyes scan the vessels moored along the jetty, searching for the ferry.
I move toward it, my heart racing.
Just a few more yards and I’ll be able to jump aboard, find somewhere to hide, and wait for morning. I’m so focused on the ferry that I don’t notice the slick patch on the dock until it’s too late. My bare foot slides out from under me, and I pitch forward with a startled cry.
For one horrible moment, I’m suspended in midair, arms windmilling uselessly. Then gravity claims me, and I plunge into the freezing ocean.
The cold water hits me, driving the air from my lungs in a rush of bubbles.
I sink beneath the surface, the shock momentarily paralyzing my limbs as the icy water closes over my head.
My dress billows around me like a jellyfish, tangling my legs as I struggle to orient myself in the darkness.
Panic claws at my throat, and I kick frantically, fighting my way back to the surface.
Fuck! I break through with a desperate gasp, coughing and spitting salt water. The cold is intense, seeping into my bones, making my teeth chatter violently. My muscles are already stiffening, protesting the sudden temperature drop.
I need to get out of the water.
The dock looms above me, too high to reach from the water. I spot a ladder a few feet away and swim toward it with clumsy strokes, my waterlogged dress hampering my movements. Each breath is a ragged gasp, the air burning my salt-raw throat.
The metal rungs of the ladder are slippery and ice-cold against my palms as I haul myself up, water cascading from my clothes in noisy rivulets.
I collapse onto the dock, shivering uncontrollably, trying to catch my breath.
I’ve lost one of my sandals to the ocean, the other still dangling from my wrist by its strap like some bizarre bracelet.
My dress clings to every curve of my body, the thin fabric now completely transparent.
“Hey! What are you doing there?”
The shout comes from behind me, and I whirl around to see a man striding down the dock, his face tight with suspicion. He’s wearing a marina uniform, a flashlight in one hand, illuminating my drenched form. I scramble to my feet, panic surging anew.
“I—I fell in,” I stammer, wrapping my arms around myself in a futile attempt at modesty.
“This area is off-limits after dark,” he says, his eyes narrowing as he looks me up and down. “Were you trying to get on that boat?”
“I just wanted to see it,” I lie, backing away slowly. “I’m staying at the resort and went for a walk. That’s all.”
He doesn’t believe me; I can see it in the set of his jaw, the way his hand moves to the radio clipped to his belt. “I’m going to need to see some ID,” he says firmly. “And I’ll have to report this to security.”
Security means Ryker. Security means being taken back to the mansion, back to the men who want to keep me as their personal breeder. Fear surges through me like an electric current, and before I can think better of it, I turn and run.
“Hey! Stop right there!” the man yells behind me, but I’m already sprinting down the dock, water flying from my sodden clothes with each desperate step.
I have no plan now beyond escape. I race back toward the beach, veering away from the marina buildings where more workers might be waiting.
The trees ahead offer darkness, cover, somewhere to hide until I can figure out my next move.
My feet slap against the wooden planks, then sink into wet sand as I hit the beach, my lungs burning with exertion.
Behind me, I hear shouting, the beam of a flashlight cutting through the darkness. They’re coming after me. I push myself harder, ignoring the pain in my bare feet as I hit rougher terrain. The woods loom ahead, a wall of shadows promising temporary safety.
I plunge into the forest, branches whipping at my face and arms as I crash through the undergrowth.
It’s so dark here, the moonlight barely penetrating the dense canopy above.
I can’t see where I’m going, and I can only push blindly forward, praying I don’t run into a tree or fall into a ravine.
The sounds of pursuit start to fade behind me.
I don’t slow down. Not yet. Not until I’m sure I’ve lost them.
After what feels like an eternity of stumbling through the darkness, I collapse against the trunk of a massive tree, sliding down to sit among its roots.
My whole body trembles with cold and exhaustion.
My dress is still soaking wet, clinging to my skin like a shroud of ice.
The night air, which felt pleasantly warm earlier, now cuts through my wet clothes like a knife.
The wind has picked up, each gust sending fresh shivers through my body.
I huddle there, hugging my knees to my chest, trying to conserve what little body heat I have left.
My teeth chatter so hard I’m afraid they might break, and my fingers are numb, tinged with blue in the faint moonlight that filters through the leaves.
My purse drips beside me, a steady patter on the forest floor.
My phone is inside, and I quickly rummage through it.
Pulling my phone out, I try to turn it on, but it’s totally ruined by the water.
The absurdity of my situation hits me suddenly, and I have to clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle a hysterical laugh that threatens to become a sob.
What the fuck am I doing? Running through the woods in the middle of the night, soaking wet, no shoes, no plan, no hope of escape? Even if I somehow survive until morning, the boat people know I tried to sneak aboard. They’ll be watching for me now.
I bow my head, pressing my forehead against my knees as despair washes over me. There’s no way off this island without their permission. There’s no escape from whatever fate awaits me as their omega. Hot tears mix with the cold water on my cheeks as I cry without realizing it.
A sound makes me lift my head, ears straining in the darkness. A twig snapping? Footsteps? My heart, which had briefly slowed, kicks into overdrive again. I hold my breath, listening intently, every muscle tense and ready to flee.
Nothing.
Maybe it was just an animal, or the wind moving branches. I can’t stay here forever. The temperature continues to drop, the wind cutting through my wet clothes. If I don’t find shelter or dry off soon, hypothermia is a real possibility.
I push myself to my feet, wincing as my frozen toes protest the movement.
The forest stretches endlessly around me, dark and unfamiliar.
I have no idea which direction leads back to civilization, which might take me deeper into the wilderness.
I’m completely lost, with no way to navigate except by blind instinct.
A violent shiver racks my body, and I wrap my arms tighter around myself, trying to rub some warmth back into my numb limbs.
My lips feel stiff, my thoughts growing sluggish—early signs of hypothermia that I recognize from a wilderness survival book I read once.
Move, Anya. You have to keep moving.
I take a few stumbling steps, then pause, leaning against another tree for support. The barking of dogs in the distance reaches my ears. Fear gives me a fresh burst of energy, and I push away from the tree, choosing a direction at random and forcing my frozen legs to carry me forward.
But with each step, hope drains away. I’m too cold, too tired, too lost. If I don’t find shelter soon, I won’t make it through the night.
And even if I do survive until morning, then what?
They’ll find me eventually. They’ll take me back to that mansion.
They’ll make me their omega, whatever that means.
I stumble and fall to my knees, my body too numb to feel the impact.
The ground beneath me is damp and cold, but I no longer have the strength to stand.
I crawl to the base of a large tree, wedging myself between two massive roots that offer minimal protection from the wind.
Hugging myself tightly, I curl into a ball, trying to preserve what little warmth I have left.