Chapter 5 No.5

Autumn's POV

I noticed it the moment I woke up. Something was different.

The Alphas still acted with authority. They gave orders, their watchful eyes never leaving me for long. But the edge was gone.

They weren't cruel.

Not like I remembered.

I wasn't thrown into a dark cell for a minor offense. No harsh hand struck me for speaking out of turn. No one dragged me across the floor simply to remind me of my place.

They commanded, and I obeyed. But their words held no malice. Their eyes lacked the cold disgust I had come to expect.

It confused me.

At first, I thought it was a trap. A cruel game to lull me into a false sense of security before the real punishment began.

But days passed, and nothing changed. They kept their distance. They overlooked small mistakes. They didn't mock my instincts when I flinched.

It unsettled me.

Because I remembered.

"Look at you." The ghost of a voice, smooth and taunting, echoed in my mind. "Crawling like a beaten animal. Are you even worth the effort?"

"She's nothing," another voice had laughed. "Let her learn her place."

"Pathetic." A hand grabbing my chin, forcing my head up. "Say something, Autumn. Beg."

I could still feel the phantom bruises. Still hear my own ragged breaths in the cold, my body trembling from more than just hunger.

Had they always been this way? Had I simply refused to see it?

Or was something different now?

And if it was different... why?

I didn't dwell on it. Overthinking was a luxury I couldn't afford. This place was a cage, its bars made of watchful eyes and unyielding rules. Hesitation meant failure.

So, I moved.

I gathered the little I had-a worn cloak, some dried rations, a small blade concealed in my sleeve. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

The halls were silent as a tomb as I slipped through them. The air grew colder, carrying the sharp, clean scent of the forest beyond the walls.

Freedom was so close I could almost taste it.

One careful step at a time.

I made it past the inner quarters. The outer gates were just ahead.

Then, a voice cut through the silence.

"Going somewhere?"

I froze.

A chill traced my spine as I turned slowly, my fingers tightening around the hidden knife.

Alpha Adonis stood a few paces away.

He wasn't poised to attack. He wasn't radiating fury.

But his presence alone was enough to steal the air from my lungs.

I clenched my jaw, refusing to speak.

His gaze dropped to my hand, where the outline of the blade pressed against the fabric. "Do you plan to fight me?"

I remained silent.

A slow breath escaped him. He didn't sound amused. He sounded weary. "You wouldn't win."

I knew that.

But I took a step back anyway, my mind racing. If I ran now, could I outpace him? Would he give chase?

His voice dropped, serious. "Don't."

I hated how easily he read my intentions.

His eyes darkened. "You can't leave."

My heart hammered against my ribs. I forced my shoulders back, lifting my chin in defiance. "I'll try again."

A flicker of irritation crossed his features. "Then I'll find you again."

"And I'll keep running."

His jaw tightened. "You don't understand, do you?"

I crossed my arms. "I don't care."

Something shifted in his expression. Frustration was clear, but beneath it swirled something else, something unreadable and unsettling.

He sighed, rubbing his temple. "Consider this a warning. Don't attempt this again."

I scoffed. "Or what? You'll punish me?"

His gaze locked onto mine, intense and unwavering. "No." His voice was quieter now, but firm. "But you won't like the consequences."

That gave me pause.

There was no threat of violence in his tone. No promise of pain.

Just cold, hard certainty.

I didn't understand it, but I refused to show any crack in my armor.

"I don't care," I repeated, the words a brittle shield.

His exhale was sharp, frustration evident in the stiff line of his shoulders as he turned and walked away.

I watched him go, a strange sensation settling in my chest.

I had expected rage. Retribution. Brutality.

Instead, I had merely irritated him.

And somehow, that small rebellion felt like a victory.

If they think they can control the outcome of this life, they are mistaken. I will do whatever it takes to break free.

I'm not repeating the mistakes of my past.

The moment I stepped into the main hall, I felt it.

A gaze, heavy and intent, fixed on me.

I didn't need to look to know who it was.

Agatha.

She stood across the corridor, arms crossed, her eyes sharp enough to cut. She had seen everything-how Adonis had simply let me go. How there had been no punishment. And it was eating her alive.

Good.

I kept walking, ignoring her. But I knew Agatha. Her anger was a volatile thing, and it wouldn't stay contained for long.

I was right.

I had barely crossed the hallway when I heard the rapid, angry click of her heels on the stone floor.

Then, a hand seized my arm.

"What was that?" Agatha hissed, her voice low and venomous.

I yanked my arm free, meeting her glare calmly. "What was what?"

Her face twisted. "Don't play ignorant. I saw it all. Why are they suddenly treating you with kid gloves?"

There it was. The jealousy, sour and ripe. The burning need for an explanation.

A slow, deliberate smile touched my lips.

"Maybe they're finally seeing the truth of who stands before them."

Agatha's expression darkened. "You wretched-"

Her hand flew up, aiming a sharp strike at my face.

But I was done. Done being her target. Done absorbing her cruelty.

I caught her wrist mid-air and, without a moment's hesitation, brought my own hand across her cheek.

The sharp, crisp sound echoed in the quiet hall.

Agatha stumbled back, her eyes wide with pure, unadulterated shock.

I watched her, my palm stinging, my breath even. I had never retaliated before. Not like this.

It felt... empowering.

I remembered a different slap. A different time.

"You dare speak to me like that?" a cold, cruel voice had filled the room.

I had been on my knees, my face burning.

"She still has some fight in her," another had mused, amused. "Shall we correct that?"

They had. Repeatedly.

I had always stayed down.

But not anymore.

Seeing the shock on Agatha's face now was a balm to an old, festering wound.

Her shock swiftly melted into seething rage.

She drew a breath, no doubt to scream, to summon witnesses, to paint me as the monster.

I didn't give her the chance.

I struck her again. And once more, harder, the sound cracking like ice.

I wanted it to be seen. To be heard.

A sharp gasp escaped her, her body trembling with a volatile mix of fury and humiliation.

I waited.

I waited for the shout of outrage.

I waited for rough hands to seize me, to throw me to the cold stone as they had done so many times before.

I waited for my punishment.

Then, I heard footsteps.

I turned my head slightly.

There they were.

The three Alphas.

Watching.

Their faces were masks, their gazes heavy and inscrutable.

Agatha whirled toward them, her expression morphing into one of wounded innocence. She expected them to reprimand me. To discipline me.

Just as they always had.

But they didn't.

Adonis sighed, rubbing his temple as if battling a headache. "Autumn, return to your quarters."

I blinked. "What?"

"Now," he stated, his tone leaving no room for debate.

"This... this isn't how this is supposed to go," I fired back, the confusion breaking through my control.

"Exactly!" Agatha cried, momentarily united with me in her disbelief. This wasn't the script.

Knox shook his head, his voice calm. "Little Moon, just do as you're told and go to your room."

What was happening? Why were they acting so strangely?

Driven by a reckless need to force a reaction, I reached out and tangled my hand in Agatha's hair, giving it a sharp pull. "I'm treating her like this, and you won't even defend her?"

Agatha yelped in genuine pain. "Help me! She's hurting me!"

Yes! I thought, a wild, desperate hope flaring. Cry more! Give them a reason. Give them the anger I need. Let them cast me out.

I smiled at the Alphas, a challenge in my eyes, waiting for the decree of banishment.

But something was wrong. Deeply wrong.

This wasn't the reaction. This wasn't right at all.

"Let her go, Autumn!" Dante's voice held a scolding tone, and for a moment, my heart leapt. Finally.

"I won't let her go, and I won't go to my room!" I declared, stubbornness hardening my voice. "If you're so angry, then banish me from the pack! That's what you want, isn't it?"

Agatha stared at me, speechless. She hadn't expected her greatest weapon against me to become my own desperate plea.

"You should reconsider," Dante said, his voice firm as he carefully pried Agatha from my grip. "Because that is never going to happen."

"WHAT?" The word tore from both Agatha and me in unison.

For the first time, we were in agreement, and yet the outcome was the opposite of what either of us expected. The absurdity of it was dizzying.

"Return to your room, Autumn. We are not arguing about this. We will discuss it later," Adonis said, his final words delivered with an unsettling softness.

I stared at them, utterly bewildered.

Where was the anger? The threats? The immediate retribution?

I had handed them the perfect reason to put me in my place. I had assaulted Agatha. They had always, always taken her side.

But now... they just wanted me to go to my room?

Agatha looked just as lost and confused as I felt.

Something was wrong.

Something fundamental had changed.

And I had no idea what it was, or why.