After My Alpha Chained Me, I Ran to the Rogue King

The morning after signing the contract, I woke to the sound of my door being kicked open. Gideon stood there, flanked by four Omegas carrying steaming buckets and scrub brushes.

"Your rehabilitation begins now," he announced, his voice devoid of emotion.

I sat up slowly, my hand instinctively reaching for the knife I kept under my pillow. My fingers met empty space.

"Looking for this?" Gideon held up my blade, twirling it between his fingers before tossing it into a box with the rest of my weapons. "All of your... toys have been confiscated."

The Omegas entered, their eyes downcast as they set up their supplies. One of them—a petite girl with mousy brown hair—couldn't quite hide her pity.

"You're embarrassing the pack," Gideon continued, circling my bed like a predator. "Your fighting style is feral. Your manners are atrocious. Your appearance is... unacceptable."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm a warrior, not some delicate flower."

"No." His correction was swift and cutting. "You're my Luna. And you'll act like it."

He nodded to the Omegas, who approached me with their scrub brushes. I flinched as the first touch hit my skin—hard, abrasive, meant to strip away more than just dirt.

"Stop," I growled, pushing their hands away.

Gideon's Alpha tone slammed into me. "Submit."

The command hit like a physical blow, forcing me back onto the bed. I fought against it, my muscles straining, but the mate bond made his commands nearly impossible to resist.

"They'll scrub you clean," he said, watching impassively as the Omegas resumed their work. "Then you'll begin etiquette lessons. Your days of rolling in mud and blood are over."

The brush dipped into a bucket of scented water before attacking my skin again. I bit my lip until I tasted blood, refusing to cry out as they scrubbed me raw.

* * *

Three days of this torture had driven me to desperation. My skin was red and raw from the constant scrubbing, my nails cut to neat, boring ovals. Every time I tried to access my wolf, Gideon's commands would pull me back.

But tonight, I needed to run. Needed to feel my wolf's strength flowing through me.

I waited until the mansion fell silent, counting the minutes until the patrol passed beneath my window. The moon called to me, full and bright, promising freedom if I could just reach it.

I slipped out of my room in sock feet, padding silently through the corridors. The training grounds were locked, but I knew the service paths that would lead me to the forest edge.

Freedom was just beyond those trees.

I made it to the perimeter fence before a shadow detached itself from the darkness.

"Going somewhere?" Gideon's voice was soft, almost gentle.

I spun, my heart hammering against my ribs. "I need to shift."

"You need to obey." He stepped closer, moonlight glinting off something in his hands.

Before I could react, he grabbed my ankle, snapping a thin metal band around it. I cried out as it tightened, burning my skin.

"What is this?" I tried to kick free, but the band held firm.

"A tracking collar." His fingers traced the silver-infused metal. "With a little something extra to keep you in line."

The silver burned against my skin, sending waves of nausea through me. I dropped to my knees, gasping.

"It's for your protection," he said, his voice taking on a false concern that made my stomach turn. "The rogues are getting bolder. We can't risk losing such a... valuable asset."

I looked up at him through a curtain of hair, hatred burning in my eyes. "I'm not an asset."

His smile didn't reach his eyes. "You're whatever I say you are."

* * *

"Darling sister!" Bonnie's voice dripped with false sweetness as she swept into the mansion's main drawing room. "I've come to help you prepare for the Alpha Ball!"

I stood frozen as she embraced me, her perfume suffocating me. Over her shoulder, I caught Gideon watching us with calculated interest.

"How thoughtful," I managed through gritted teeth.

Bonnie pulled back, her eyes gleaming with malice barely concealed beneath a veneer of concern. "Oh, Margot, you look... different."

"Uncomfortable," I supplied.

She laughed, turning to Gideon with a flutter of eyelashes. "She always did have such a unique sense of style."

Gideon's lips curved in what might have been amusement. "Bonnie has graciously offered to help with your... education."

"Has she?" I glanced between them, noting how Bonnie's hand lingered on Gideon's arm.

"Tea?" Bonnie chirped, settling herself onto the sofa beside Gideon. "You should serve us, Margot. Practice your hosting skills."

Gideon didn't object. Instead, he looked at me expectantly. "Why can't you have her grace? She understands duty."

The silver collar around my ankle seemed to tighten, a constant reminder of my captivity. With trembling hands, I poured tea for the Alpha and his guest, forced to watch as my half-sister batted her eyelashes at my contracted mate.

"Such a good little servant," Bonnie murmured, just loud enough for me to hear.

I set down the teapot before I could throw it at her face.