CHAPTER 18: PATH

Zen walked down the narrow dirt path his little slave had run off to, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. What a weak little thing. Just yesterday, she’d been full of fire and defiance, as she tried to run away from the Pack. She’d even tried to run away from his grip. And then taken the beating and punishment from her Alpha as if she would bite back... He’d thought that the little Omega was stronger.

But now? A slap and few insulting words and she had not even tried to answer back, but simply runa way from there like a frightened little rabbit, tail tucked, forgetting everything—including the simple fact of what he had said yesterday to Alpha Soier. How could something that belonged to him be looked down upon. Wasn’t she his little slave for the next three days? So, she should have used that...

Pathetic.

He kept walking, the heavy silence of the woods broken only by the crunch of twigs beneath his boots. Then he stopped, his expression tightening as a powerful wave of scent hit him- fiery, sweet and unmistakably hers. His nose twitched at the force of it, and he let the smell wash over him.

He looked up at the small structure nestled among the trees and felt his lip curl. Cabin? That was a generous word. It was a barely standing pile of timber, walls that looked like they would collapse if he so much as breathed wrong. And yet, someone had thought this was good enough to leave an Omega in?

He scoffed. Fools. The entire Moonville Pack should be renamed the Foolsville Pack. That would’ve at least been accurate. They were so wrapped up in their outdated customs and their rusted ideas of dominance that they couldn’t see the truth staring them in the face. Still clinging to ancient ways that treated Omegas like burdens instead of assets. Still living like it was the Dark Age of the packs.

Idiots. They didn’t even realize the future they were destroying with their own hands. Instead of cherishing their Omegas, protecting and cultivating them- they broke them down. Crushed them. Used them like toys and tossed them away the moment they became inconvenient. They were throwing away their most valuable resource in the name of pride and tradition.

Zen shook his head in disgust, his silver eyes narrowing.

He walked toward the pathetic cabin, his boots crunching dry leaves and dirt. As he neared, his frown deepened. The door wasn’t even locked. No scent markers, no wards, no guards. Nothing. Just open and exposed like an invitation. Typical.

He pushed the door open with one hand, letting it creak as it swung. The inside was even worse than the outside. Sparse. Cold. A single tattered mat on the floor. No blankets. No food. He stepped in, his eyes scanning the room once.

And then he stopped. In the far corner, curled up so tightly she could have vanished into the shadows, was the little Omega.

Zen stood still as his eyes locked onto her. The sight was a far cry from the girl who had dared to run away from the pack last night. Who had quietly and composedly handled everything. Her head was bowed low, her arms wrapped around her knees like she was trying to make herself disappear. Blonde strands of hair had fallen loose, covering half her face. Her shoulders were trembling faintly. And though she wasn’t crying now, the dried streaks of earlier tears were still etched on her cheeks.

She looked small. Pathetically small. Not weak, but fragile. Like something that would shatter with the wrong word.

He stepped further inside, his gaze never leaving her. The floor creaked under his weight, but she didn’t lift her head. She didn’t even flinch. It was as though she’d stopped reacting altogether.

He came to a stop just in front of her, then lowered himself slowly, crouching down until they were on the same level. Still, she didn’t look up.

Zen watched her for a moment, his silver eyes scanning her closely- her trembling arms, her uneven breathing, the way her fingers gripped her knees like they were the only thing anchoring her. Then, wordlessly, he reached out and touched her chin.

Her skin was cold beneath his fingers. Cold and soft. With a finger under her chin, he tilted her face up. Her hair shifted as he moved her, falling away from her cheek. The swelling from the earlier slap had already started to fade, the bruise a pale shadow of what it must’ve been last night. Still, it stood out against her pale skin, making his blood boil..

Zen’s fingers slid across the curve of her jaw, brushing over the fading mark with deliberate slowness. His expression didn’t shift. His eyes gave nothing away as if he were only assessing her for damage.

But her eyes- they spoke a different story. Glittering with tears...They were wet. Her lashes were clumped from earlier tears, and her lower lip trembled faintly. Her whole body was trembling, in fact, so lightly it would’ve been missed if he weren’t this close.

And just like that, something stirred in his chest as he looked at her. As he moved forward, she flinched and he stopped..."Come here, little fire."

He watched as she looked at him and waited. He could easily command her, but he wanted her to come on his own... And when she finally did... he smiled and stood up...pleased with her trust in him...