Alpha, Your Lock Betrayed Me Chapter 09
I played the message again and again.
The voice was female, crisp and mechanical, with no emotion at all.
It sounded nothing like “Blood signature not recognized.”
That night outside Lysander’s estate, cold wind had poured through the hallway windows.
I’d pressed my finger to the lockstone over and over, hearing the same cold rejection every time.
Now I stood outside a door that belonged to me.
And this lock knew me.
The next day, a package arrived at my office. The return address was Lysander’s estate.
The small box weighed almost nothing.
Inside was a key with a tag tied to it.
The front read:
[Your blood signature is the only one registered to this lock. No one else’s. Come back anytime.]
On the back, he had written:
[I’m sorry. I truly am.]
The handwriting was uneven, as though he’d written the message over and over before choosing those words.
I would never use the key. But I didn’t throw it away.
It wasn’t a keepsake.
It was proof that once, I had loved someone with everything in me.
Work grew easier, and Mia became my closest friend in Redpine.
We went to a live show, stood for two hours, and screamed until we lost our voices.
Afterward, we stopped at a food truck for tacos.
The owner recognized us by then.
“Extra spicy on both? The usual?”
“Yeah,” I said.
Being remembered made me feel as if the city were slowly making room for me.
While we waited for the tacos, Mia said, “When you first got here, you looked like a cat caught in the rain. You’re different now.”
“How am I different?” I asked.
“Your eyes.” Mia gestured toward her face. “You used to keep your head down, always looking away. Now you look people in the eye.”
I paused, then smiled.
She was right.
Lysander’s POV
Lysander entered the county recorder’s office.
He handed the replacement paperwork to the clerk.
The clerk verified everything and completed the notarization.
Lysander stepped outside with the reissued documents tucked inside a manila envelope. It felt almost weightless in his hand.
He remembered telling Willa, “Have your mom mail them here. I’ll take care of filing them.”
He’d meant it when he offered to help.
But he’d failed her.
He slid the new documents into the manila envelope.
Back at his office, he sat down, unlocked his phone, and opened his chat with Willa.
Her final message was still there.
Willa: [No need.]
He stared at the message for a while, then closed the conversation.
…
Willa’s POV
Another package arrived the next day.
It was a manila envelope, the county recorder’s office printed in the upper-left corner.
Lysander Vane was listed as the sender.
My hands stayed steady as I opened it.
Inside were the replacement deed transfer documents and a pack transfer form.
A note was attached:
[If you want to join another pack, I’ll set you free.]
Lysander had signed the pack transfer form in his capacity as Alpha.
My line remained blank.
His signature was neat, every stroke deliberate.
He usually scrawled his name. He must have taken his time with this one.
I read every page.
Then I took the documents to the Redpine City Pack Administration Office.
I took a number, waited for my turn, and slid the paperwork through the service window.
The clerk entered the information, stamped the form, and handed it back.
“It’s done.”
I looked down at the updated registration.
I belonged to Ashborn Pack now.
The mate bond inside me faded, like snow melting into the earth.
I didn’t feel the rush of relief I’d expected. I didn’t feel like crying either.
All I could think was, It’s done. It’s finally over.
This time, it really was.
Outside, the sunlight was almost painfully bright.
I stood on the steps for a moment, folded the papers, and tucked them into my bag.
My phone buzzed.
Mia: [Took the morning off? Coming back for lunch?]
I typed back.
Me: [On my way.]
By the time I returned, Mia had already packed up some barbecue ribs for me.
She’d remembered.
I sat down and took a bite. The meat was warm, coated in a rich, smoky-sweet sauce.
“Good, right?” Mia asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
I lowered my gaze and kept eating while sunlight spilled through the windows.
Maybe the days ahead wouldn’t be so bad.
I’d already taken the hardest step.