CHAPTER TWO

GREEK

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The worn wooden floor creaked beneath my bare feet as I crept toward the unlocked cell door, my heart pounding against my ribs like a caged bird desperate for freedom. The musty air of the cell clung to my skin, a reminder of the suffocating filth that had become my constant companion.

I stopped just shy of crossing the threshold, a shiver running down my spine as my hand hovered over the edge of the door. Voices battled in my head, some screaming at me to flee, others whispering that this was all a cruel trick, that pain would await me on the other side if I tried to flee. The old alpha's voice joined the party, his words as sharp as the day he'd torn me from my family.

"You’ll help my children make some beautiful little alphas to rule and omegas to sell. And if you don’t, you'll fetch a pretty price at auction, omega," he'd sneered, his grimy fingers digging into my jaw. "Once we train you right, you’ll be worth a fortune. But if we catch you trying to run, we’ll carve those pretty silver eyes out. You’ll be worth less, but at least you’ll learn your lesson."

Bile rose in my throat, and I swallowed hard, forcing down the memories that threatened to drown me. Ugh . I couldn’t make myself take another step forward. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the urge to retreat to the dark corner of my cell that had become my meager sanctuary. Curling up and hiding felt safer than daring to hope.

But the distant shouts and cries from above stirred something in me, a flicker of reckless courage I'd thought long extinguished. With a trembling hand, I pushed the door open a crack and paused. My breath caught in my throat as a man's agonized scream pierced the air, followed by the unmistakable sound of shattering glass.

"The Silver Claw Pack is attacking!" someone shouted, their voice laced with panic and fury. "Protect the leaders!"

The Silver Claw? That name sent a chill through my veins. I’d once heard Natalie say she’d kill me before she’d sell me to Lucius from the Silver Claw. Even before then, I'd heard whispers of their ruthlessness, their insatiable hunger for power and territory.

And now they were here, seeking to claim what the Black Fang Pack themselves had stolen - the land , the well that provided clean water for the pack, and... me . They wanted me. Nausea roiled in my gut at the thought. To the packs, I was nothing more than a pawn, a prize to be won and used until I broke.

The temptation to retreat, to hide away and pray the nightmare would end, tugged at me like a siren's call. But something else stirred within me, a fragile ember of defiance that whispered of a chance, however slim, to finally break free.

I sucked in a shaky breath, my fingers curling around the doorframe as I steeled myself. The Silver Claw might be just as cruel as the Black Fang, but their attack had created an opportunity, a distraction. If I could just slip away unseen...

"No!" a woman shrieked from above, her cry cut short by a sickening thud.

My heart stuttered, my resolve wavering. What if this was all a trap? What if they were waiting for me, ready to drag me back to my prison and make me pay for daring to hope? But the alternative - staying, submitting, allowing them to break me piece by piece until nothing remained - was a fate worse than death.

I'd rather take my chances with the unknown than endure another day in this hellish place. Gathering the tattered shreds of my courage, I pushed the door open wider, the hinges groaning in protest. I swallowed the lump of fear in my throat and worked up the nerve to step out of my cell.

I crept toward the staircase, each step a monumental effort. When I reached the top, the sounds of violence grew louder - snarls, shouts, the sickening crunch of bones being broken filled the air. I peeked out the open basement door, and what I saw almost sent me racing back down the stairs to lock myself in my cell.

It was chaos, utter chaos. I paused at the top, pressing myself against the wall as a body flew past, hitting the ground with a dull thud. I stared down. Cold, dead eyes stared back at me. It was Russel, a vicious beta who liked to hurt other betas to make himself feel like he was an alpha. I didn’t feel sorry for him.

But I did wonder if I’d be able to escape. Pack members were running, shouting, fighting for their lives. I had to make a move. It was now or never. The metallic scent of blood hung heavy in the air, mingling with the acrid stench of fear and rage. I scanned the room, searching for an escape route amidst the mayhem.

My gaze locked on the kitchen door, tantalizingly close. If I could just make it there...

A sharp cry drew my attention. A beta female, her face streaked with blood, stumbled toward me, her eyes wide with terror. Recognition flashed through me - Melanie , one of the few who'd shown me kindness in this wretched place.

She grabbed my arm, her grip desperate. "You can’t be here. They’ll tear you apart," she gasped, tugging me toward the kitchen. "We have to go. Now!"

Together, we ran, ducking and weaving through the fray. My bare feet slapped against the cold wooden floor, my heart a wild drum in my chest. We burst through the door, the cool air a balm against my flushed skin. I squinted in the sunlight, not used to the brightness of the outdoors.

It had been a while since I’d been allowed outside. I inhaled deeply, unable to remember the last time I’d smelled fresh air. This was the smell of freedom. It was almost within reach. Melanie and I started across the property. And then, a gunshot split the air. Melanie jerked, a surprised gasp escaping her lips.

She released my arm seconds before her body crumpled to the ground, her eyes already glazing over. I stared in horror, my mind struggling to process what had just happened. Slow footsteps crunched in the gravel behind me. I turned, my body numb with shock, to see a man with long brown hair leveling a shotgun at my chest. He inhaled deeply, his eyes glinting with a predatory light.

“We’ve got a wild omega!” he shouted, his Cajun accent thick. “And he’s a pretty one!”

Panic surged through me. I didn’t think. I couldn’t. I just turned and ran across the compound grounds, barefoot and clad only in dingy white boxers. That was all Natalie and Nathan would allow me to wear. Oh, and the blue barrette pinned in my hair that Natalie forced me to wear.

The color of the barrette depended on her mood. Blue meant she was bored with me. She usually left me alone when she was bored with me, which was great for me. But right now, I almost wished she was here to protect her property... me . My chest burned, my feet ached, but I couldn’t stop running. I wouldn’t. They’d have to kill me if they wanted to catch me.

I would never come back of my own free will. Voices shouted for me to stop. Never! I pushed harder. I'd run until I collapsed if I had to. Until my body gave out, and my soul fled this broken shell. I'd rather be dead than caged again, trapped in a nightmare of torture and degradation.

I'd tasted freedom, however briefly, and I refused to let it go. I stumbled to a halt at the edge of the compound, my lungs screaming for air. The sounds of pursuit grew closer, the thud of heavy boots, the snarls of cruel laughter. Desperately, I scanned my surroundings, searching for a way out.

There, just ahead, a dense thicket of underbrush. It could provide cover, a place to hide. But was it worth the risk? If they found me, the punishment would be unimaginable. Yet, if I kept running, my chances of escape dwindled with each passing second. They were stronger and faster than me. I didn’t stand a chance.

Hide or keep running? Fear and desperation warred within me, my mind a whirlwind of fragmented thoughts and half-formed plans. The pounding of my heart echoed in my ears, nearly drowning out the shouts of my pursuers. I had to make a choice. Now. With a shaky breath, I pushed forward, aiming for the thicket.

But before I could reach it, a gunshot cracked through the air, the sound like a whip against my nerves. I froze, my body trembling, expecting to feel the searing pain of a bullet tearing through my flesh. The pain never came. I spun around and watched a big, burly alpha drop to the ground.

What the...

I looked past him, and that's when I saw Sara, the pretty little beta whose dormant omega gene I had activated. She smiled at me, her eyes shining with a fierceness that took my breath away. She looked ready to go to war. But war was for warriors. And we weren’t that.

"Come with me," I signed. Together, we’d taught ourselves sign language when she’d lost her ability to speak. I signed again. "We can both escape, both be free of this hellhole."

She shook her head, her smile turning sad.

"Why?" I signed, my heart clenching at the thought of leaving her behind.

“I want to kill them,” she signed back. “Even if I have to die too. I must kill Natalie and Nathan.”

Oh, no! “You can’t kill them,” I signed quickly. “Just run with me. We can be free of them.”

She gave me a gentle, resigned smile and shook her head before motioning for me to go. I started to press the matter, to beg her to come with me, but before I could, she spun around and headed back toward the compound, back toward the chaos. Tears welled in my eyes as I watched her go, a lump forming in my throat.

I didn’t blame her for wanting to kill the alphas in our bond... her bond. I’d never had the courage. She was braver than me. I stared down at the alpha she'd killed, the one who'd been moments away from dragging me back to my own personal hell. She'd saved me from being captured. She'd risked everything to give me a chance to escape. I owed her my life, and I knew I'd never get to pay her back.

The weight of that debt settled on my shoulders, mingling with the guilt of leaving her behind. But I couldn't let her efforts be in vain. I couldn't let her sacrifice mean nothing. So I turned away, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. I forced my legs to move, to carry me further into the woods, away from the compound where I’d been caged and abused since I was a kid.

I fled the people who’d killed my parents and my younger sister all because my father wouldn’t sell me to them. I fled the pack that planned to auction me off the first chance they got because I was useless. I ran away from all the hurt and the pain I’d endured for years while hoping I wasn’t heading toward something worse. I found myself praying as I ran.

If there’s a heaven, please take me or lead me somewhere safe. Please. I won’t survive another brutal pack, another abusive bond. I can’t. I refuse to.

I ran for as long as I could, only stopping when I absolutely had to and not for long. The woods stretched endlessly ahead, shadows deepening as twilight swallowed the last remnants of the day. My legs burned, each step a battle, but I couldn’t stop. I was moving off pure adrenaline and fear.

The sound of my own breathing filled my ears, ragged, desperate. Every so often, a sharp pain stabbed through my ribs, making my vision blur. I pressed a hand to my side, feeling the edges of bruises, swollen and tender under my fingertips. But pain was nothing new to me. It was almost comforting, a familiar ache.

What pushed me forward was fear – pure, gut-wrenching terror that crawled up my throat like bile. I could still hear them, phantom voices from the compound, the shouts, the gunshots. The image of Kimmy’s sneering face flashed in my mind, taunting me, reminding me that I’d never make it, that I was nothing but a waste of space.

I pushed her voice aside, gritting my teeth as I forced my legs to keep moving. Time lost all meaning, minutes bleeding into hours until I couldn't tell how long I'd been running. My body screamed for rest, for respite, but I couldn't stop. Not yet.

It was only when I stumbled upon a small creek that I finally allowed myself to pause. The water trickled softly, a gentle melody against the backdrop of my ragged breaths. I fell to my knees at the water's edge, my hands plunging into the cool stream. The icy touch shocked my system, bringing a moment of clarity to my scattered thoughts.

I cupped my hands, bringing the water to my lips. It soothed my parched throat, the chill a balm to the rawness left by my panting breaths. For a moment, I simply knelt there, letting the peace of the quiet woods wash over me. I stared into the rippling surface of the creek. My reflection stared back at me.

Haunted eyes rimmed with dark circles gazed out from a face I barely recognized. A smear of dirt marred my cheek, mingling with the mottled blues and greens of an old bruise. I looked like a ghost, a shadow of the person I once was.

The boy who'd laughed and played with his sister, who'd cuddled into his mother's warm embraces, who’d followed his father everywhere he went... That boy was gone, lost to the cruelty of the Black Fang Pack. A distant whistle pierced the air, yanking me from my spiraling thoughts. My heart lurched, a flicker of hope sparking to life.

Trains meant movement, distance. Freedom . I let the thought bloom, holding onto it like a lifeline. If I could make it to the tracks, I might have a chance to put real miles between myself and my pursuers. With renewed determination, I splashed the cold water on my face, the bite of it against my skin invigorating me.

I pushed myself to my feet, my muscles screaming in protest. Fatigue dragged at my limbs, but I couldn't give in to it. Not yet. Not when freedom was so close. I stumbled through the underbrush, branches catching at my bare skin, but I barely felt the sting or scratches. The sound of the train grew louder, a siren's song guiding me forward.

And there it was. The train tracks. Stretching out before me like a path to a new life. But the train was nowhere in sight. Not yet. I scanned the shadows, nerves prickling as the night closed in around me. I didn’t have much time. Darkness brought out the worst of this world – the rogues, the predators, the kind of alphas who wouldn’t hesitate to tear me apart if they found me.

I had a great sense of smell. Right now, I could smell their scents on the wind. They were coming. Heading my way, drawn to me by a scent that had doomed me the moment I first emitted it. A scent that I despised and would claw out of me if I could. But I couldn’t. Which only left me one option. Flee .

I refused to look back. I could smell how close they were. I had a little time before they were on me. Another whistle pierced the air, closer this time, and my heart thumped against my ribs. I stepped back, hiding just beyond the treeline, and waited. This wouldn’t be the first time I’d train-hopped, though I hadn’t done so in years.

Memories drifted back to me. Snapshots of a carefree childhood, of racing alongside trains with my best friend, the wind whipping through our hair, and laughter spilling from our lips. Back then, train hopping had been a game, a thrilling test of our youthful courage. That was before everything changed.

Before my scent marked me as different, as a target. Before the world turned on me and the warmth of my family was ripped away, leaving me with nothing but the cold, harsh reality of an omega's fate. My scent had changed early, maybe because I’m a catalyst. I don’t know.

But it was clear to everyone around me that I was an omega, even if the only trait I’d had then was my scent. So I listened to my parents when they told me that I needed to start staying closer to home.

But staying closer to home hadn’t helped. They’d found me anyway. And because of my scent, my entire family died. Now, as the train thundered past in a dizzying blur of metal, those memories felt like they belonged to someone else. A different Greek, one who still had hope, who still believed in a future beyond the confines of a cruel pack.

I sucked in a deep breath, the night air cold and biting against my face. I could still smell them out there. Alphas. Rogues. They were closer now. This was my chance. My one shot at freedom. I exhaled slowly, my body tense, every muscle poised to move. It was now or never. I mentally counted down, preparing myself for what was to come, just like I’d done as a child.

Three. Two. One. Run.

I surged forward, my bare feet pounding against the rough gravel, ignoring the sting of the rocks cutting into my soles. The pain was nothing compared to the fear nipping at my heels, the knowledge that my pursuers were closing in, drawn to me by the scent that clung to my skin like a cursed brand.

With a final burst of strength, I leaped towards the train car, my fingers scrabbling to grab onto the cold metal. Got it. For a heart-stopping moment, I teetered on the edge, my legs flailing as I fought to pull myself up. My body was tired, weak, weary. But I refused to let go. A howl rent the air.

Fear propelled me forward. I collapsed against the side of the train, panting, my entire body trembling, my palm sore from holding the metal so tightly. More howls rent the air. But those sounds and those awful scents were growing further and further away. I released a sigh of relief. I’d done it. I’d gotten away. I’d survived.

I was free. After years of captivity, abuse, and degradation, I was finally free. The wind whipped against my face, stinging my skin, but I welcomed it. It was a sign of freedom, however fleeting. Freedom . Tears stung my eyes. There was no holding them back. They spilled down my cheeks as a flood of emotions crashed over me. I was free of the Black Fang Pack.

Free of my bond. A bond that, thankfully, had never marked me. They’d been waiting for me to prove my worth, and I’d never done so. Worthless , that was me. At least I was free of them now. I could barely believe it. My shoulders shook as sobs wracked my body. My parents’ faces flitted through my mind.

The image of them trying to protect me from a horde of savage alphas was burned into my memory. The image of my sister being dragged away with me, only to break free and race back into the burning house, trying to save our parents. She’d perished in the fire. And I blamed myself for not having the strength to break free also and race back in there with her.

It would’ve been better to die with them than to live without them. They’d died because of me, because of what I was. The Council claimed being an omega was a blessing. They were wrong. It was a curse that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. If I could make it to one of the safe haven clinics, I would beg for suppressants.

I’d do any odd and end jobs to obtain them. I wanted to mute this scent, mute these cravings that made me beg for a knot from my enemy when I was in heat. I hated myself for all the times I’d done that. I hadn’t been in control. It had been the heat fever forcing me to act that way. Once the heat had passed, I’d been left sick to my soul.

My soul was tired. I just wanted a chance to rest. A chance to be anyone other than me. If I could make it to a safe haven, there was a chance I could do that. That was my hope. That was my goal. As the train sped through the woods, I let myself imagine, just for a moment, that I was truly safe.

That there was no pack, no alphas, no one waiting to drag me back to that cell. Just me, the night, and the rush of the wind. I could almost pretend I was normal – just a man living his life with nothing and no one to chase him. But I knew better. This moment of reprieve was just that – a moment.

I couldn’t stay on this train forever. If I rode too far, I’d risk ending up in a populated area. I had no I.D. I was unregistered. I’d be shipped to an omega holding facility right away. And that was if an upstanding patroller found me. I’d be sent somewhere worse if a crooked patroller got their hands on me.

I couldn’t let that happen. I had to jump off before I made it to a town and before the train reached its destination. A yawn escaped me, weariness settling over me. I’d jump. Soon. I just needed to rest for a few more moments. I didn’t fall asleep, though I was very close to doing so. I remained awake, staring out into the darkness.

After what felt like miles, I forced myself to sit up, wincing as the bruises on my back ached from being pressed against the hard metal. The landscape had shifted. There was less dense forest and more open land. I inhaled deeply only smelling the scent of the forest, no alphas nearby. This was a good place to jump.

Gritting my teeth, I climbed to the edge of the car, eyes scanning the dark ground below as it sped past me. I’m pretty sure this was going to hurt. It’d hurt less if I tucked and rolled. I steeled myself, feeling the train’s speed, and waited for the right moment. I took a deep breath, held it in for a few seconds, and then exhaled slowly.

3-2-1. Go! When I landed, the impact jarred my entire body. My ankle twisted beneath me as I hit the ground. So much for tucking and rolling. A sharp, searing pain sliced through my leg. I cried out, biting down hard on my lip to stifle the sound. The taste of blood filled my mouth.

Gritting my teeth, I tried to pull myself up, but the pain throbbed, radiating from my ankle with each movement. I needed to move. I didn’t have a choice. It was nighttime. And though I didn’t scent any alphas nearby, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t venture this way eventually.

Though this was my first time being away from the compound since I’d been taken, I knew what came with the darkness. Rogue alphas, traffickers, wolves, and feral creatures I’d heard about in whispered stories, the alphas that were so far gone, they were more animal than human.

That thought sent a shiver down my spine. I forced myself to my feet. Every step sent bolts of pain up my leg, but I hobbled forward, eyes scanning the area for any sign of shelter. My vision blurred, each step harder than the last. The world spun, and my body swayed, the weight of exhaustion pulling me down.

I wasn’t going to make it. Damn it! If I kept walking, I’d pass out. I needed to rest. I found a patch of bushes, a small haven in the wilderness, and sank into it, curling up as best I could. The scent of earth filled my nose, mingling with the coppery tang of blood from my wounds. I could barely feel my limbs, numbness creeping in as my mind drifted.

Some part of me hoped that this was the end. That I’d close my eyes and never wake up. But another part, a quiet, desperate part that still clung to life, that part kept me breathing, kept my heart beating, even as darkness claimed me. And as my eyelids grew heavy, I whispered a final, silent plea.

Please. If there’s a heaven out there, lead me somewhere safe. Or let me die here, in the quiet, alone and unafraid. Just don’t let me be caged again. I won’t survive it.