Chapter 2 The fear

"You should've frozen to death for what you did." His voice cracked like a whip as I gasped for air, the chill still clinging to my lungs. My throat burned as if the ice had melted down my windpipe, but I couldn't respond, not yet. I could barely focus, not with the room spinning and the pain still gripping my bones. "I should've left you in that tub, Clara. Then at least I wouldn't have to teach you twice." "I didn't mean to run," I coughed, my voice dry and hoarse. "I swear, I wasn't trying to leave. I just, I needed to breathe." "Breathe?" he scoffed, kneeling beside me.

"You don't get to breathe without my permission." "I was suffocating in here, Lucas," I whispered. "Every day with you... it crushes me." He didn't flinch at the name. He didn't blink. "I crush you because I care. Do you think I'd bother if you were nothing?" "I don't want to be your obsession," I murmured, eyes shut tight. "I want to be free." "That word again," he snapped. "Freedom. You think you're still entitled to something like that after everything I've done for you?" My lips trembled, but I said nothing. "You disobeyed, Clara. You betrayed the bond. And you will pay for it." The sharp sound of his footsteps echoed as he paced. He wasn't yelling. He didn't need to. His anger was colder than the water I'd just left behind, and it seeped through every part of me more deeply than the ice ever could. "I, I almost died," I said through chattering teeth. "My heart, my fingers, I couldn't feel anything." "You think pain absolves you?" he growled. "You think death is an escape? No. It's mercy. And you don't deserve mercy." A long silence stretched between us as I curled tighter in the duvet, teeth clattering. The room felt cavernous, like the walls themselves were holding their breath. "I only wanted, " "Silence," he snapped. "Your wants are irrelevant." The door opened without a knock, and Delores's voice slithered into the room. "Alpha, the maids are outside. Shall I send them in?" "Send them in. Then get out." Delores hesitated. "She doesn't deserve to, " "I said get out," he barked. Two maids entered quickly, heads bowed, avoiding eye contact. They carried warm towels, a tray of steaming tea, and vials of medicine. One of them gasped softly when she saw the purplish hue of my fingers. "She's freezing, Alpha. Her limbs are, " "Handle it," he snapped. "You have ten minutes. I don't want her dead. Yet." They moved fast. Hands wrapped around my shoulders, around my legs. Towels, oils, warmth, everything swirled around me like a blur of color I couldn't grasp. "Alpha," the younger maid whispered to him, "we need a doctor." "He'll come in the morning," Lucas said coolly. "She'll live until then." He stepped closer, staring down at me as if I were both precious and disposable. His silver eyes bored into mine, and something inside me cracked. "You're sick," I whispered. "You're a monster." "And you're mine," he said with no emotion. "So what does that make you?" My voice died in my throat. He crouched beside the bed and leaned in close. "Try it again, just once more, and I won't put you in water, Clara. I'll put you in the ground." He stood up and turned his back as if I were already buried. Then he left without another word. The door clicked shut. I lay on the bed like a discarded doll while the maids continued their silent work. Their hands were gentle, their eyes sad, but they didn't speak. No one ever dared to. When they finally left, the room was too quiet. I could hear the fire crackling in the hearth, but it didn't warm me. I couldn't stop shaking. Not from the cold, but from the dread. Why did I think I could run? Why did I believe he wouldn't find out? I should've known better. Lucas didn't forgive. He watched. He waited. And then he punished. Sleep found me briefly, but it was cruel. I awoke just after dawn with my stomach twisting into knots. A sour burn crept up my throat. I bolted to the bathroom and dropped to my knees just in time for the nausea to take hold. I vomited violently, gasping between heaves. My body trembled with weakness, and for a long minute I thought I might pass out. Then it hit me. This wasn't just shock. This wasn't just trauma. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong. "No," I whispered, clutching the sink. "No, no, no..." I stumbled back into the room, still dizzy. My fingers shook as I reached for the drawer beside my bed and yanked it open. The pregnancy test was there. The one I'd asked my maid for weeks ago, hidden beneath the spare undergarments and stolen scraps of paper. I hadn't used it before. I'd been too afraid. Now, I had no choice. "I can't be," I whispered to myself, pacing the bathroom. "It's not possible. It can't be now." I opened the test and read the instructions three times. My hands wouldn't stop trembling. When I finally worked up the courage to take it, my heart was beating so loudly I thought it might drown out everything else. Minutes passed like hours. I refused to look. I turned away, staring at the wall. Then I forced myself. I looked down. Two lines. Clear. Undeniable. Pregnant. "No..." The test slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a soft clatter. Tears rushed to my eyes, spilling freely, hot and wild. I pressed both hands over my mouth to keep from screaming. I was carrying Alpha Lucas's child. And he had sworn, he had sworn, what he'd do if that ever happened. "Don't ever get pregnant, Clara," he'd whispered one night as I lay beneath him, tears drying on my cheeks. "If you do, I'll let you carry it. I'll let you meet your baby. Then I'll take it from you while you're still bleeding and make you watch it die." I remembered every word. The way he'd kissed my cheek while saying it. Like it was a lullaby. "No baby will come between us," he'd murmured. That night, I believed he meant it. Now, I knew. I pressed a hand to my stomach, already imagining what was growing inside. A life. A future. A reason to fight. He would kill it. He would kill me. Unless I ran again. "I have to leave," I whispered, pacing, thinking, panicking. "I can't stay. I can't, I won't let him touch this child." I started pulling clothes from the drawer, grabbing whatever I could find. A jacket, a scarf, anything warm. I dug through the trunk at the foot of the bed for coins, ones I'd hidden under the lining, stolen over months in case this moment ever came. A plan. I needed a plan. The guards. The wall. The tunnels beneath the laundry room. I knew the path. I'd studied it in silence, in fear, in dreams. If I failed this time, I would not live. But if I didn't try, my baby wouldn't either. As I shoved the last of the stolen money into my boot, a noise outside the door made me freeze. Voices. Footsteps. Heavy. Then, his voice. "Where is she?" I barely had time to hide the test behind the dresser when the door handle started to turn.