21. Elisabed

21

Elisabed

My hands shook as August led me back into my room. I wanted to argue, but something in the way he looked at me and the tension in his jaw told me that arguing wouldn’t help this time.

The door shut behind us with a heavy thud, and I turned to face him, the weight of everything pressing down on my chest.

“Tell me what happened,” he said, his voice controlled but with a deep edge that made my heart beat a little faster. He wasn’t angry, not exactly, but he was...upset and concerned in a way that didn’t sit right with me.

“I...” My voice faltered, and I almost didn’t want to admit what I had seen. What if it was just my mind playing tricks on me? What if it was just someone else who looked like her, and I took it too far due to plain desperation? They needed me to be strong, but I had my weak points.

I had to tell him. “I think I saw her. My sister.”

I didn’t look up at him, but I could feel the air in the room shift as soon as the words left my mouth. The quiet between us told me more than I wanted to hear.

His grip tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might snap. “You what?” he asked, the words sharp like the crack of a whip.

“I saw her. In the market.” My voice broke on the last word, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. “I know it sounds crazy. I know it’s impossible...but it was her. It had to be.” My words were tumbling out faster now, but I couldn’t stop them. “She looked at me, and then she disappeared, August. Like she was running away from me, and—”

“Didn’t I tell you to stay here, where it’s safe?” August interrupted. “If you leave this building again without one of your alphas with you, I will lock you in this room for the rest of the week. Do you understand me?”

I blinked at him, a sharp breath escaping me as the weight of his words hit. A part of me wanted to argue, wanted to defy him, but the other part—the part that could hear the tightness in his voice, feel the tension in his muscles—knew I wasn’t going to win this battle. And the thought of him locking me up, even if it was for my own safety, made something inside me tremble.

I couldn’t tell if I was angry or scared, but the sting in my chest was overwhelming. It wasn’t the order that hurt, though. He was pushing me away—treating me like I couldn’t be trusted to make my own decisions, like I was just another fragile thing he had to protect.

It was so much more than I could take.

“I understand,” I murmured quietly, my gaze dropping to the floor. There was nothing else to say.

When he left, everything I’d tried to keep buried came crashing down on top of me. The uncertainty, the fear, the confusion—it all came out at once. I sank to the floor, my back against the wall, my knees drawn to my chest as the tears finally broke free.

I thought our relationship had been progressing—slowly, sure, but still moving forward. But I was stupid. In the end, they see me as just another omega, weak and fragile, property to be protected. The trust I thought we were building was all in my head.

I tried to be quiet about it, but there was no stopping the sobs that wracked my body. I wasn’t crying just because of the restrictions or the anger that burned behind my ribs. I was crying because I missed her. Because in the middle of everything that had happened, I didn’t know where I stood anymore, and I didn’t know how to keep going.

The thought that she might be nearby and had followed me here was enough to tear me apart. She couldn’t be here. Not here, in this strange place where I had no idea what was coming next.

But there she was. I saw her. And I couldn’t ignore that.

I wiped my eyes quickly, my hands shaking as I stood up and tried to pull myself together. There had to be something I could do. But the thought of August’s words echoed in my mind—“I’ll lock you in here for the rest of the week.” The idea of being trapped again, of being forced to do nothing, made me feel suffocated.

I needed air. I needed a moment where I didn’t feel so caged.

I stumbled out of the room, my vision blurry, but I managed to make it down the hall and through the house until I found myself in the kitchen.

The space was quiet and cold. The hearth was empty, and there was no one there.

I walked past the counters, trying to focus on anything but the ache in my chest, the tears still threatening to fall. I found the water jug, poured myself a glass, and took a long drink, trying to steady myself.

It didn’t help. Not really.

I set the glass down, my reflection on the surface of the water staring back at me, and for a moment, I couldn’t recognize myself. I felt like a stranger in my own skin, like I was moving slowly through a dream that I couldn’t shake myself awake from.

I wanted something familiar, comforting, and real. But there was nothing like that here, just thoughts and loneliness.