The Alpha Who Wanted Me Dead

The Treehouse Promise

Ten years later...

"What the hell took you so long?"

Regina flinched at the sharpness of Garrick's voice. He stood towering behind her, his deathly breath heavy in the air. His cold eyes flicked down to the bundle of herbs clutched in her hands, then back up to her face, scrutinizing.

"What were you doing in the woods? Daydreaming?" His tone dripped with annoyance, as if her every movement was an offense to his time.

"No, sir," she said quickly, keeping her head down.

"Hmph." He snatched the bundle of herbs from her hands and gave her a hard shove toward the slave quarters. "Next time, be faster. You're lucky the Alpha doesn't bother with a useless thing like you."

Regina bit the inside of her cheek and hurried past him, her bare feet silent against the dirt floor. Ten years. It had been ten years since she was brought to the Alpha Sirus pack. She had learned how to survive. She knew when to stay quiet, when to obey, and when to disappear into the background.

And, more importantly, she knew who to trust.

No one.

Except Marco.

Their secret friendship had lasted all these years. Somehow, despite everything, he had never turned his back on her. They had stolen moments of freedom, brief escapes into the woods where no one could find them.

The slave trainer often sent Regina to the forest to gather herbs and spices, thinking it was a meaningless task. He didn't know that the forest wasn't just a place of work for her—it was the only place she felt like herself. The trees whispered to her, the wind carried stories only she could hear. She had a gift for finding the rarest herbs, just like her mother once did.

But more importantly, the forest was where Marco and Regina had built something that belonged only to them.

A treehouse.

Hidden deep in the woods, in a towering oak tree with thick branches, their little sanctuary stood high above the world. It had taken months to build. Marco had stolen bits of wood and rope from the training grounds. Regina had gathered strong vines and leaves to weave into a roof. Together, they had built it piece by piece, their secret safe haven.

Regina climbed up first, her hands gripping the rough wooden planks as she pulled herself onto the small platform. It wasn't much—a few sturdy boards nailed together, a roof made of thick leaves—but it was theirs.

Moments later, Marco swung himself up beside her, landing with ease. He had grown taller in the past few years, his shoulders broader, his face sharper. His gray eyes were the same, though—always watching, always thinking.

"You're late," he said, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

Regina rolled her eyes. "I had to wait for the right moment to slip away." She sat down, letting her legs dangle over the edge. The view from up here was beautiful. The golden light of the setting sun spilled through the trees, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.

Marco sat beside her, tossing a small apple in his hands before passing it to her.

"Eat," he said.

Regina hesitated, but hunger won over pride. She took the apple, biting into it carefully. It was sweet, crisp. A taste of something she wasn't supposed to have. For a while, they sat in silence, enjoying the peace that only the treehouse could offer.

Then, softly, Marco asked, "Do you remember them?"

Regina's hands tightened around the apple.

"Who?" she asked, though she already knew.

"Your parents. Your pack."

Regina stared out at the trees, her heart pounding. She had spent five years pushing those memories down, locking them away where they couldn't hurt her. If she thought about them, she would remember the screams, the fire, the way her mother had told her to run.

So, she didn't think about them.

She swallowed, forcing a small shrug. "It doesn't matter."

Marco didn't press. He never did. He just nodded, as if he understood. Maybe he did.

"One day," he said quietly, "I'll be Alpha. And I'll protect you."

Regina turned to him sharply. "Don't say that."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not possible," she said, her voice bitter. "I'm a slave, Marco. Slaves don't get protected. They survive. That's it."

Marco's jaw tightened. "I don't care what my father says. I don't care what anyone thinks. You're not just a slave. You're Regina. And I swear, when I become Alpha, you won't have to live like this anymore."

Regina wanted to believe him. She really did.

But hope was dangerous.

Hope was a lie.

And yet…

As she looked at Marco, at the fire in his eyes, she felt something stir deep in her chest.

Maybe, just maybe, she could believe in hope. Even if it was foolish.