Chapter 76

Chapter 76: Chapter 76

Rose’s hands trembled as she smoothed her faded skirt, her breaths coming fast, shallow. She looked around the room, at us, at me her eyes wide, begging silently for someone to intervene.

But no one moved. Not one of us dared.

"Please..." Rose whispered, barely audible.

Elizabeth turned, her sharp heels clicking against the wooden floor. "Now."

I felt my nails digging into the thin blanket in my lap, the fabric tearing beneath my grip. Rose’s knuckles whitened as she pushed herself up. She swayed, unsteady, and for one awful second I thought she might collapse back onto her cot. But Elizabeth’s eyes snapped to her like a whip, and Rose stumbled forward, obeying.

"Don’t make me repeat myself," Elizabeth said flatly.

The air felt colder, heavier, as Rose walked toward the door. Her steps were small, dragging, as though each one carried her closer to an execution.

I wanted to scream. To grab her hand and pull her back. To throw myself between her and Elizabeth. But my body wouldn’t move. My throat closed, my breath caught, and I sat there like stone, betraying her with my silence.

Rose reached the door, and Elizabeth’s hand clamped down on her shoulder. Without another word, Elizabeth pulled her out into the hall. The door shut behind them with a soft thud that echoed in my chest like thunder.

No one dared to breathe too loud. The room felt emptier already, as though Rose’s absence had created a hole none of us could fill.

I stared at the door, waiting hoping that it might open again. That Rose might come back, Elizabeth having changed her mind, saying it was all a mistake. But the door stayed shut.

And in my mind, I saw it the walk I knew too well.

Elizabeth leading Rose through the pack house. Rose’s eyes darting at the walls, the shadows, the guards who never looked at her, who opened doors without expression. The long, polished hall that seemed to stretch on forever. The looming presence of his quarters at the end, a place no one ever wanted to reach.

I saw her standing before the door. I saw Elizabeth push it open. And then him. The Psycho Alpha. Tall and sharp. His eyes gleaming like knives in the dim light. His lips curling in that mocking half-smile that wasn’t a smile at all. His voice low, smooth, carrying both cruelty and amusement as he greeted her-not as a person, but as prey. The door would close. Heavy. Final. And Rose would be gone. I gasped, my chest tightening so hard it felt like I couldn’t breathe.

"She’s gone," I whispered.

The words slipped out before I could stop them, and the other omegas hissed in warning.

"Ellie, don’t," one of them muttered, glancing around as though the walls had ears.

But it was too late. The dam inside me cracked.

"She’s gone!" I cried, my voice breaking. My hands shook violently, clutching at the blanket until it tore apart in my grip. "She’s gone and she’s never coming back the same! Don’t you see? Don’t you get it? None of us ever ever come back the same!"

Joan rushed to my side, grabbing my shoulders. "Ellie, stop, please"

But I couldn’t stop. The sobs ripped out of me like fire, uncontrollable, raw. My body shook so hard it hurt.

"I should’ve stopped her!" I wailed, tears streaming hot and fast down my face. "I should’ve grabbed her, held her back—why didn’t I—why.

Joan pulled me into her arms, but I thrashed against her, clawing at the air, at the walls, at myself. Anything to tear away the crushing weight of guilt pressing down on me.

"I let her go," I gasped, choking on the words. "I just sat there and I let her go!"

The room blurred through my tears, the faces of the other omegas turned away, some watching with wide, terrified eyes, others burying their heads in their thin pillows as though ignoring me might save them from the truth.

But Joan didn’t let go. She held me, whispering broken, desperate words I couldn’t even hear over the roar of my own sobbing.

I collapsed against her, my strength draining, my body trembling with aftershocks of grief and fear. My tears soaked her shoulder. My nails dug into her arms.

And still, the image of Rose walking through that door burned behind my eyes. The sound of it closing echoed in my ears. Heavy. Final. That door might as well have closed on all of us.

I buried my face in Joan’s shoulder, sobbing until my throat was raw, until my body ached, until the only thing left inside me was the hollow certainty that no matter how much I cried, no matter how much I begged, Rose wasn’t coming back.

The morning light crept into the omega quarters like it didn’t belong there. Pale, gray, muted it filtered through the narrow, dirt-streaked windows and fell across rows of cots where no one dared to stretch too loudly or yawn too freely. The room was too quiet. Too heavy. Rose’s bed was empty. Her blanket, half-folded, lay there as though she had just stepped away, as though she might come back at any moment and smooth the fabric with her careful hands. But she wouldn’t. I knew she wouldn’t.

The emptiness sat like a wound in the middle of the room, and no one looked at it for long. Their gazes darted past, landing anywhere else.

"She’s probably fine," someone whispered near the far wall.

A scoff followed, sharp and bitter. "Fine? No one’s fine after going to him."

"Hush," another hissed. "You want Elizabeth to hear you?"

The whispers cut off, leaving a suffocating silence behind.

I sat on my cot, knees drawn up to my chest, my chin resting on them. My eyes kept dragging back to Rose’s empty bed. My stomach churned, a sick, twisting knot.

Fine. Not fine. Dead. Alive. Changed. Broken. Their whispers clung to me, but none of them said the truth out loud. None of them dared.

But I knew. I had walked that path. I had heard that door close. And now Rose was behind it. I pressed my hands to my ears, but it didn’t stop the sound. I still heard it the heavy thud of the Alpha’s door sealing shut. Final. Irreversible. I rocked slightly where I sat, trying to quiet the storm inside me.

Across the room, Joan was watching me. Her face was pale, her lips pressed tight, but she didn’t speak. She didn’t have to. Her eyes told me she felt it too, that same dread curling through her bones. But she was stronger at hiding it. I wasn’t. Because even as the others were talking in silence their fears, I heard more than whispers.

Then I heard her. At first, it was faint, so faint I thought it was my imagination. A soft cry, high and broken, weaving into the silence of the room. I froze, my head snapping toward the door.

Nothing. Just the creak of old wood and the slow, steady drip of the cracked pipe in the corner. Then it came again.

"Please..."

My blood ran cold. My breath hitched, and I pressed my hands harder against my ears. But it didn’t stop. The sound seeped through my palms, through my skull, until it filled me whole.

Rose’s voice. Pleading. Begging.

"Don’t—please—"

I whimpered before I could stop myself, rocking harder on my cot.

"She’s not here," I muttered to myself. "She’s not here, you’re just hearing things, she’s not.

"Ellie." Joan’s voice was soft, close. I hadn’t even noticed her move to my side. Her hand brushed my shoulder gently. "You’re scaring the others."

I turned to look at her, tears blurring my vision. "Don’t you hear it? Don’t you hear her?"

Her face crumpled, pity mixing with fear. "No," she whispered.

"She’s screaming!" My voice cracked, loud enough to draw glances from the others. "She’s screaming and no one cares—"

"Ellie, stop." Joan squeezed my arm. "It’s just in your head. She’s not here."

But the more Joan denied it, the louder it grew. Not whispers now screams. Raw, jagged, tearing through me. My chest seized, my lungs burning as if I were the one screaming.

I clutched at my hair, pulling, desperate to rip the sounds out of my skull. "Make it stop, make it stop!"

The omegas shrank back, their faces pale with fear, some muttering prayers under their breath, others glaring at me with thinly veiled anger.

"She’s losing it," one of them hissed. "First Rose, now her. We’ll all be punished for this."

"Shut up," Joan snapped, her hand steady on me even as I trembled and shook.

But the damage was done. I saw it in their eyes. Joan held me so tightly I thought my bones might crack, I still heard it. That door. Slamming shut. And Rose’s scream, echoing in the hollow of my chest.