After My Alpha Marked the Rogue, I Ran Away

I stood in our bedroom, hands trembling as I folded my last sweater into the suitcase. The room still smelled of Kian's scent—pine and winter frost—but now it was tainted with something else. Betrayal.

"We're leaving," I whispered to Aria, my wolf, who whimpered weakly inside me. "We can't stay here anymore."

The funeral for my grandfather had been yesterday. Kian hadn't even looked at me during the ceremony, his arm wrapped protectively around Winter instead. The pack's whispers followed me everywhere—the unstable Luna who couldn't protect her own grandfather.

I zipped the suitcase closed with finality. "I need space to think clearly."

The door burst open before I could reach for my coat. Kian stood there, his massive frame blocking the exit, eyes blazing with a fury I'd never seen before.

"Going somewhere?" His voice was dangerously low.

"I'm leaving for a while," I said, lifting my chin despite the fear coursing through me. "I need to clear my head."

"You're not going anywhere." Each word was clipped, final. "You're my mate. My Luna."

"A title you've already given to Winter," I countered, gesturing to the Alpha pendant now hanging around her neck.

Something snapped in his eyes. "She's temporary. You're being irrational."

"I'm being irrational?" My voice rose despite my efforts to stay calm. "She killed our baby! She led my grandfather to his death!"

"Enough!" Kian roared, his Alpha tone vibrating through the room with physical force.

The pressure hit me like a tidal wave, crushing down on my shoulders. My knees buckled against my will.

"Kian, stop—" I gasped, fighting against the invisible weight.

"You will obey me," he growled, stepping closer. "You will not leave this pack."

My body betrayed me as I sank to my knees, the suitcase slipping from my grasp. The pack warriors who had followed Kian into the room watched with wide eyes as their Alpha forced his Luna to submit.

"Kian," I whispered, tears streaming down my face. "This isn't you."

"You've been compromised," he said coldly, looking down at me with eyes that held no trace of the man I'd mated. "Your wolf is unstable. You need help."

---

"Section 7 of the Werewolf Health Code states that any wolf exhibiting symptoms of Feral Psychosis must be confined for evaluation," Dr. Morris read aloud, avoiding my eyes as he signed the forms.

"I don't have Feral Psychosis," I said, my voice hoarse from screaming. "Kian is lying!"

The doctor flinched but continued writing. "Alpha Kian has provided extensive documentation of your erratic behavior."

"Documentation that Winter fabricated!" I tried to stand, but the sedatives made my limbs heavy.

Two Delta warriors gripped my arms, dragging me toward the isolation cells in the basement of the pack clinic. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting everything in a sickly green glow.

"Please," I begged as they unlocked the heavy door. "I'm not crazy."

The cell was bare except for a narrow bed and a toilet in the corner. The walls were padded, the door reinforced with silver—designed to contain a feral wolf.

"Alpha Kian wants you sedated until you're stable," Dr. Morris said, preparing a syringe. "For your own protection."

As the needle slid into my arm, I caught sight of movement through the small window in the door. Winter was walking down the hallway, carrying an armful of my clothes.

"Where is she going?" I asked, though I already knew.

The doctor's silence was confirmation enough.

---

Weeks passed in a haze of sedatives and darkness. They kept me drugged most of the time, only allowing me consciousness long enough to eat and use the bathroom. My wolf, Aria, had grown so weak I could barely feel her presence.

"Still catatonic," I heard a guard say one day. "Just stares at the wall all day."

I had discovered that if I remained perfectly still, breathing evenly, they would leave me alone longer. It gave me time to think, to plan.

Today, when the guard brought my lunch, I didn't move. Didn't blink. Didn't acknowledge him at all.

"Check her vitals," someone instructed. "Alpha wants hourly updates."

A nurse approached with a thermometer. I allowed my body to go limp in her hands, my eyes fixed on nothing.

"Same as yesterday," she reported. "No response."

They left me alone again, but this time, I had a small victory. The pill they'd given me for breakfast was still hidden beneath my tongue. I'd been spitting out the sedatives for days now, pretending to swallow them while secretly storing them in a small hole I'd made in the mattress.

Slowly, painfully, I was regaining my strength. And something else—something they couldn't see.

I was suppressing my wolf's aura.

It was a technique I'd learned years ago for my acting career—how to appear human even when my wolf was close to the surface. Now I was using it to mask my presence entirely.

They thought I was broken. Catatonic.

They were wrong.

I was planning my escape.