Gabriella
The anklet felt heavier than it looked. Every step made the tiny lock click against my ankle bone—soft, almost musical, like a reminder I was wearing jewelry made of consequences.
Aiden left for a pack meeting right after breakfast. Kissed me on the forehead like we were normal. Told me to "be good." Smiled when he said it, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. He knew I wouldn't be.
The house was empty except for the two silent warriors posted at the front and back doors. They didn't speak to me. Didn't even look at me. Just stood like statues carved from stone and loyalty.
I waited until the clock in the hallway chimed eleven.
Then I walked.
Not toward the front door—that would be too obvious. I went to the kitchen first. Opened the fridge. Took out a bottle of water. Drank half. Set it down. Walked to the French doors that led to the back terrace.
Pushed one open.
Cool air rushed in. Smelled like pine and distant rain.
I stepped out.
One foot on the flagstone. Then the other.
The anklet didn't beep. Didn't vibrate. No alarm screamed.
I kept walking.
Past the stone benches. Past the empty fire pit. Down the three wide steps to the lawn. Grass wet under my bare feet. Cold. Real.
I stopped at the edge where the manicured grass gave way to wilder ground—where the pack lands started bleeding into the forest proper. There was an invisible line here. I could feel it in my bones. The boundary.
I lifted one foot. Hovering.
Then I stepped over.
Nothing.
No siren. No sudden grip of hands on my arms. No Aiden materializing out of thin air.
Just birds. Wind. The distant howl of a wolf somewhere deep in the trees that wasn't him.
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it might crack them.
I took another step. Then another.
The forest swallowed the house behind me. Trees closed in. Shadows dappled the ground. I kept walking—fast now. Not running. Not yet. Just purposeful strides. The anklet jingled softly with each step.
Ten minutes in, my pulse was roaring in my ears.
Fifteen minutes, I started to believe.
Maybe the tracker was a bluff. Maybe he'd put it on to scare me. Maybe the battery was dead. Maybe—
A low growl rolled through the underbrush ahead.
Not a real wolf. Not wild.
Him.
I froze.
Aiden stepped out from between two pines—already shifted back to human, naked, chest heaving like he'd run the whole way. Hair wild. Eyes molten silver. Every muscle coiled.
He didn't speak at first. Just stared.
Then he closed the distance in four strides.
Grabbed my upper arm. Not hard enough to bruise. Hard enough to stop me.
"You crossed the line."
His voice was calm. Too calm.
I lifted my chin. "You said if I leave the property line, you'll know before my foot hits the grass."
He tilted his head. "I did."
"So?"
"So I knew the second your toe touched the other side." He leaned in. Breath hot against my cheek. "I let you walk for seventeen minutes because I wanted to see how far you'd go. How much hope you'd let yourself feel."
My stomach dropped.
He smiled then—slow, almost sad.
"You really thought I'd give you something that easy to defeat?"
He reached down. Hooked a finger under the anklet chain. Tugged once. Gentle.
"This isn't just GPS, little wolf. It's linked to my phone. To my watch. To the security system. To every warrior on rotation. The second you crossed, my watch buzzed. Quiet. Polite. Like a text from a friend."
He pulled his phone from his pocket—must have shifted with it somehow, because it was dry and intact. Showed me the screen.
A simple alert.
Boundary breach – Luna GabriellaDistance from house: 1.3 kmHeart rate: 142 bpmStatus: Moving away
Timestamped every minute I'd walked.
He scrolled down.
Photos. Grainy. From trail cams I hadn't even noticed. Me stepping over the line. Me walking. Me pausing to look back at the house like I might never see it again.
I felt sick.
He pocketed the phone.
Then he bent. Scooped me up over his shoulder like I weighed nothing. Fireman carry. My ass in the air. Hair hanging down his back.
I didn't scream. Didn't fight. Just dangled there while he carried me back.
The walk took less time than my escape had. He didn't speak. Just moved—steady, angry strides.
When we reached the terrace he set me down. Not gentle. Not rough. Just final.
Pushed me inside. Through the kitchen. Up the stairs. Into the bedroom.
Closed the door.
Locked it.
Turned.
I backed up until my legs hit the bed.
He didn't advance right away.
Just stood there. Breathing. Watching.
Then he spoke. Quiet. Dangerous.
"You wanted to test the chain. You tested it."
He walked to the dresser. Opened a drawer. Pulled out something black. Leather. Small.
A cuff. Wider than the anklet. Padded inside. Metal buckle.
He came back.
Grabbed my wrist.
I jerked back.
He caught it anyway.
Slipped the cuff on. Buckled it. Tight but not cutting. Then the other wrist.
Then he lifted my arms. Clipped both cuffs to a ring I hadn't noticed before—hidden in the carved headboard. Arms stretched above my head. Body arched.
He stepped back. Looked.
"You're not leaving this room until I say so."
I glared at him. Chest rising and falling fast.
"You can't keep me like this forever."
"No." He reached out. Traced one finger down my sternum, between my breasts, over my stomach, stopping just above where I wanted him most. "But I can keep you like this long enough that you forget what outside feels like."
He leaned in. Kissed me once—slow, deep, almost tender.
Then he pulled back.
"I have meetings. Pack business. You'll stay here. Think about what almost happened. Think about what would've happened if I hadn't let you walk those seventeen minutes."
He turned toward the door.
"Aiden."
He paused. Looked back.
I swallowed.
"What happens when the bet ends?"
His eyes narrowed.
"If you win," I said softly, "what happens to me then?"
He considered it. Really considered it.
Then he walked back. Cupped my face in both hands. Thumbs brushing my cheeks.
"If I win," he said quietly, "you stay. You love me. You rule beside me. You bear my mark. My pups. My everything."
I searched his face.
"And if I win?"
He smiled. Small. Sad. Dangerous.
"You won't."
He kissed my forehead.
Then he left.
Locked the door behind him.
I hung there. Arms stretched. Anklet jingling softly with every shaky breath.
And for the first time since this started—
I didn't feel like crying.
I felt like planning.