Chapter 3

**"Knock, knock, knock!"**

"Alexa, open this door right now! How dare you walk out on me while I'm talking to you? Open up! If I shout again, you're going to get a beating!" My mother's voice boomed through the door, tighter than a coiled spring, echoing dread through the small space I had claimed as my own. I swallowed hard, nudging the door open just enough to peek through the narrow crack.

She stormed in, her face etched with anger and something darker that felt like hatred. It was a look I had grown accustomed to, though I could never quite fathom what I had done to warrant it—after all, I was just her daughter, the same as Lily. Yet, somehow, we were worlds apart. While Lily basked in warmth and indulgence, I was constantly thrust into the shadows of disapproval.

"You are going on this mission whether you like it or not! Unless you want another whipping," she spat at me, the venom in her voice striking deep. Yes, you heard that right—whipped. The thought of it sent a chill down my spine. Each time I had refused to partake in one of these ghastly missions, I felt the sting of her hand across my back, as much as she could manage while I wore clothes. If she knew my true form, if she had any inkling that my healing was akin to that of a fierce alpha wolf, I shuddered to think of what would then transpire. Questions bubbled up within me, but I dared not utter a sound. Asking questions around here was an invitation to an early grave.

"Are you even listening to me?" she continued, her tone rising in frustration. "You're leaving tomorrow. I've made all the arrangements, and I don't care how you feel about it—you're going, whether you like it or not." With that, she wheeled around and stormed out, leaving me alone, a whirlwind of confusion and dread swirling inside my mind.

In that moment of solitude, I couldn't ignore the truth wearing heavy on my heart. I wouldn't hurt anyone, and I wouldn't remain in this house for long. One day, they would discover what I truly was, and fear would drive them to kill me. The thought made my insides twist; escaping was imperative. But I had no money to facilitate my flight, only scraps of food that were left behind, remnants from meals I never dared to share with them. It was ironic, really—my father had always wanted me to eat with the family, but my mother's sharp threats loomed like a storm cloud, forcing me instead into the dank solitude of the basement. I was treated as an outsider, a dark shadow behind my sister's radiant life; a constant reminder of the differences between us that I could never quite comprehend.

I felt a familiar ache as I reflected on my family's dysfunction. My mother had been at this cruel game for as long as I could remember, and while my father had occasionally attempted to intervene, he ultimately fell silent under her relentless pressure. If I fled this place, I reasoned, I wouldn't miss anyone, because I knew they wouldn't miss me either.

Yet, I resolved to use this upcoming mission to my advantage. I would pack away as much money as I could siphon off, bonuses from family missions. I had gleaned enough knowledge from living with them to evade their grasp if I vanished far enough away. My escape plan was hatching in my mind like a silkworm cocooning itself for flight; I pictured a place where they could never find me, far from the memories of cruelty and disdain.

With the plan sown, I flopped back onto my bed, weariness overtaking me. I closed my eyes, drifting into a restless sleep brimming with thoughts of freedom.

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Suddenly, I jolted awake to cacophony—a tempest of shouts and thunderous bangs on my door. I squinted at my phone; it was a cruel four o'clock in the morning. My heart raced as I swung the door open to find my mother standing before me, her face a chaotic mix of anxiety and fury.

"Alexa, pack your things as quickly as you can and come downstairs!" she ordered, her voice sharp enough to cut through the fog of my sleep.

"What's going on?" I stammered, confusion clouding my thoughts. "It's too soon! I'm scheduled for the mission tomorrow; we haven't even planned for it yet! We usually take a full week to prepare for something as serious as this. Why on earth would I pack now?"

Her eyes narrowed, a blazing fury simmering beneath the surface. "Would you just do as I say? Stop talking back! We have no time to waste. Don't make me come up here again to retrieve you!" With her words hanging bitterly in the air, she stormed off, leaving an uneasy silence in her wake.

A chill ran down my spine—something wasn't right. I knew I needed to contact my dad, to reach out for help. I fumbled for my phone, the urgency of the situation fueling my determination. I dialed my father, heartbeat thrumming in my ears, expecting the call to go unanswered. To my disbelief, it connected—he was finished with his mission.

"Hey, Alexa! How are you? Did your mom tell you we were done with the mission? Did you call to check on me?" he greeted cheerfully, as though no weight lay on either of our shoulders.

"Dad, she didn't tell me anything about a mission for you! I just called because she arranged for me to go on one today, and we haven't planned anything!" I rushed out, the panic rising like bile in my throat.

"What mission? She didn't say a word to me about it. Did you agree to go? I thought you didn't want to pursue our family line!" His voice came through the phone, laden with urgency.

"I didn't agree! She threatened me!" I said, pouring out the whole terrifying situation, how her words dripped like poison and how I felt trapped like prey in a hunter's snare.

"Alexa, don't listen to her! It's a good thing you called me. Lock your door and stay put. I'll call her right now!" he commanded firmly, his tone filled with a protective urgency that made my heart swell.

"Yes, sir," I whispered, a wave of relief washing over me as he hung up. I hurried back to secure my door, heart racing with apprehension, straining to block out the chaos outside. As shouts reverberated through the walls, I turned inward, back to my thoughts, the plaguing dread struggling against flickers of hope. I allowed my heavy eyelids to close once more, hoping that when I awoke again, the nightmare might be over, but part of me feared it was only just the beginning.