After My Alpha Called Me Property, I Walked Away

The forest blurred around me as I stumbled forward, one foot in front of the other. Hours had passed since I'd left Sebastian's pack house. My duffel bag felt heavier with each step, but the weight of six years of unrequited love weighed more.

"Just a little further," I whispered to myself, though my voice sounded foreign in the quiet woods.

The boundary markers of Riverwood Pack appeared through the trees—simple stone pillars carved with our pack symbol. Home. After all this time, I was finally home.

My legs trembled beneath me. The physical toll of severing a six-year emotional bond—even one without a mark—was taking its toll. My vision swam, dark spots dancing at the edges.

"Heartbreak Sickness," I'd heard it called. The body's response to the severing of a bond, even an incomplete one.

I reached the first boundary stone and pressed my palm against its cool surface. Just a few more steps and I'd be safely within my birth pack's territory.

"Almost there," I murmured, but my legs had other plans.

They gave out beneath me, sending me crashing to the mossy ground. The duffel bag tumbled from my shoulder, its contents spilling across the forest floor. I tried to reach for it, but my arms wouldn't cooperate.

"Emily? EMILY!"

The voice pierced through the fog in my mind—familiar, frantic, and coming closer. I tried to respond, but my lips wouldn't form words.

Footsteps pounded against the earth, growing louder. Something warm brushed against my cheek—fur? A wet nose nudged my hand.

"Emily, stay with me!" The voice was closer now, right above me.

I forced my eyes open just enough to see a blur of fur and a man's concerned face. Then darkness claimed me completely.

---

The smell of antiseptic burned my nostrils as consciousness returned. I blinked against harsh fluorescent lights, trying to orient myself.

"Easy there," a deep voice said. "You're safe now."

Safe. The word echoed in my mind as I turned toward the sound.

A man sat beside the hospital bed, his broad shoulders filling out a simple blue shirt. His hands—strong, capable hands—held a clipboard. But it was his scent that hit me first: sandalwood and rain, rich and comforting.

"Jared?" I croaked, my throat raw.

His eyes—warm amber flecked with gold—widened slightly. "You remember me."

How could I forget? The lanky boy who used to sneak me extra food at pack feasts when others overlooked me had grown into this... man.

"What happened?" I tried to sit up, but dizziness forced me back down.

Jared gently pressed me back against the pillows. "You collapsed at the border. One of our patrol wolves found you and brought you here." His expression turned serious as he checked my pulse. "You're severely malnourished, Emily."

"Malnourished?" I laughed weakly. "Sebastian always made sure I ate."

"Not properly, apparently." Jared's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Your body is showing signs of Soul Wasting."

"Soul Wasting?"

"It's what happens when someone drains another's energy for too long." His eyes met mine, holding my gaze. "An Alpha's energy can be... demanding on those around him."

I looked away, shame burning my cheeks. Had I been so obvious?

"You need specialized care," Jared continued, his professional demeanor returning. "I can't let you go home to your parents yet. You need twenty-four hour monitoring."

"But—"

"No buts." He stood, towering over me. "I've already called your mother. She understands."

Panic fluttered in my chest. "She doesn't know—"

"About Sebastian?" Jared shook his head. "She doesn't need to. She just knows her daughter is sick and needs care."

Before I could argue further, he disappeared through the door, returning moments later with a steaming bowl.

"I made this for you," he said, sitting back down beside me. "High protein, lots of iron and vitamins."

The rich aroma made my stomach growl audibly. Jared's lips quirked up at the sound.

"I think your body agrees with my prescription."

My hands trembled as I reached for the spoon, too weak to lift it properly. Without a word, Jared took it from me.

"Let me," he said softly.

The first spoonful of stew touched my lips, and I closed my eyes at the flavor—rich beef, herbs, and something I couldn't identify but that made my taste buds sing.

"That good?" Jared asked, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

I nodded, opening my eyes to find him watching me intently. Something warm unfurled in my chest—something I hadn't felt in years.

As he continued feeding me, one careful spoonful at a time, our eyes locked. In that moment, I felt seen—truly seen—for the first time in six years.