TRANSMIGRATED: I CAN HEAR THE PYSCHO ALPHA'S INNER VOICE

Chapter 77

The corridors of the pack house were silent, unnervingly so. I pressed my back against the wall, every muscle in my body stiff, every breath shallow, like even the sound of my lungs would betray me. The moonlight slipping in through the tall windows was pale and cold, washing everything in silver, but it wasn’t enough to light my way. The Alpha’s quarters lay deeper inside, past winding hallways and guarded doors.I shouldn’t have been here. I knew that. I should have been in the omegas’ quarters, pretending to sleep, clutching my blanket like it was a shield against the nightmares. But the thought of Rose sweet, quiet Rose alone with him gnawed at me. I had seen the way she trembled when Elizabeth called her name, the way her lips had parted but no words came, like her voice had been stolen. And I had done nothing. I had just watched her go.

So now I was here. Desperate. Foolish. My heart hammering loud enough I swore it would echo down the empty corridor. I told myself I was only going to peek. Just to make sure Rose was still alive. I wouldn’t speak, I wouldn’t knock. I would see her and leave, and then maybe the guilt pressing against my ribs would ease. That was the lie I repeated with every step.

But beneath it, in the pit of my stomach, I knew the truth there was no such thing as "just looking" when it came to him.

I moved carefully, barefoot, the wooden floorboards creaking faintly beneath me. Every time they did, I froze, convinced someone would come. But no one did. No guards. No voices. Nothing. That was strange in itself. Normally there were always sentries near the Alpha’s wing, men standing tall and rigid, eyes forward, jaws locked. Tonight there was no one.

The silence grew heavier with every corner I turned.

The Alpha’s quarters weren’t far now. I could see the carved double doors at the end of the corridor, their dark wood gleaming faintly under the moonlight. They looked like a mouth waiting to swallow me whole.

I hesitated, my fingers tightening on my nightgown, twisting the fabric until it nearly tore. My throat was dry, my chest tight. Maybe this was far enough. Maybe I should turn back now, run before anyone found me here.

But then I thought of Rose’s face again, pale and fragile, and my feet carried me forward.

I reached the doors. My hands trembled as I raised them. I wasn’t even sure what I planned to do push them open? Press my ear against the wood? Whisper her name? Every option was dangerous, every choice reckless.

And then it happened. I turned and slammed straight into someone.

The impact knocked the air out of me. I stumbled back, my hands flying to my chest as if that would keep my heart from bursting through. My eyes shot up, and in that instant, all the blood in my body turned to ice. He was there. The Alpha.

Standing silently, like he had grown out of the shadows themselves. His presence filled the narrow hallway, tall and sharp-edged, his aura suffocating. His arms were folded behind his back, his posture relaxed, almost casual, but his eyes those merciless eyes glittered in the darkness.

And he was smiling. Not wide, not friendly. Just a faint, knowing curve of his lips, soft and mocking, like a cat that had just caught the mouse exactly where it wanted.

"You really are predictable, little omega," he said, his voice low, velvet-smooth. It slid through me like smoke, leaving a shiver in its wake. "I was wondering how long it would take before your guilt dragged you here."

My mouth went dry. I tried to speak, but no sound came. My tongue felt heavy, useless. My knees weakened, and I had to press a hand against the wall to keep myself upright.

He tilted his head, studying me as if I were a puzzle he had already solved. "Tell me, Ellie what did you think you would find behind those doors?" His eyes flicked toward the Alpha’s chambers, then back to me. "Did you hope to rescue her? Or was it only your conscience you came to soothe?"

My lips parted, but still no words. His smile deepened. "Ah. Neither. You didn’t think at all. You let your heart drag you here, the same way it always does. And hearts..." He leaned down slightly, so close I could feel the warmth of his breath against my ear. "...hearts are the easiest things to break."

I squeezed my eyes shut. My body trembled so hard it felt like my bones were rattling. I whispered a prayer under my breath, though I didn’t even know the words anymore. Just fragments. Please. Please.

He chuckled softly. The sound wasn’t cruel exactly it was worse. It was amused, indulgent, like he was laughing at a child who thought they could hide behind their hands.

"You pray as though God can hear you in my house." His words coiled around me, light but suffocating. "But it’s only me here. Always me."

I forced myself to look up, even though it felt like dragging my gaze through quicksand. His eyes were waiting, sharp and unreadable, watching me flinch.

"Next time, Ellie," he murmured, brushing past me with a whisper of movement, "you might break your leg running into things you don’t understand."

And then just like that he was gone. He didn’t shove me, didn’t drag me, didn’t even raise his voice. He simply walked away, his steps unhurried, confident, like he had known from the start how this night would end.

I stayed pressed against the wall long after he disappeared, my whole body shaking, my throat raw with the scream I hadn’t dared to release.

The corridor seemed to breathe again, but I couldn’t. I sank to the floor, curling into myself, my palms pressed against my mouth to stop the sobs from spilling out too loudly.

He knew. He always knew.hought clawed at the back of my mind.

No matter how fast I ran, no matter how far I tried to escape he was always watching.