Alpha's Rejected becomes the Lycan's Obsession

Freya couldn't believe her ears after everything Tessy had confessed. It hadn't even been an hour since they arrived at the hospital, and already so much had happened.

The weight of the situation pressed down on them like a storm cloud ready to burst. Trouble was no longer a distant possibility—it was knocking at their door, and neither of them knew how to keep it out.

At the end of their shift, Freya, determined to help her friend escape the chaos she'd stumbled into, led Tessy to the travel agency. The small, dimly lit office was cluttered with brochures and posters of exotic destinations, a stark contrast to the grim reality they were facing. Freya's resolve was firm as she guided Tessy through the necessary paperwork to leave the country as soon as possible.

Tessy, however, was a bundle of nerves. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, and her mind raced with a thousand what-ifs. She was already drowning in one crisis, and now she was desperately trying to claw her way out of another. Was this sheer bad luck, or was the universe punishing her for some unknown sin?

"Relax, Tess. This shouldn't take too long," Freya said, her voice calm but firm, as she watched Tessy pace back and forth for the fourth time since they'd arrived.

"I can't. What if he wakes up and comes looking for me? What if he tells the whole world what I did? I'm trying to escape one prison—I don't want to end up in another. I don't want to go to jail," Tessy whispered, her voice barely audible, her face pale and drawn. Her eyes darted around the room as if expecting someone to burst in at any moment.

"You'll be out of here before that happens. You won't go to jail," Freya reassured her, though her own stomach churned with unease. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were running out of time.

"I could swear he made me do it. I just can't prove it. He held my hand, and he was talking inside my head," Tessy repeated, her voice trembling. The words sent a shiver down Freya's spine, but she forced herself to stay composed.

"Stop saying that. He was still unconscious when we got to the room. How can an unconscious person make you have sex with him?" Freya pressed, her concern for Tessy's mental state growing with every word.

"I swear it. I can't prove it, but something strange happened in that room. I didn't want to do it, but something made me," Tessy insisted, her voice breaking. Her eyes were wide, haunted by a memory she couldn't fully explain.

"It's the drink, Tess. It's the alcohol making you think that way. There's no way an unconscious man could have done all you said he did. But it's fine. Let's talk about it when you're far away from here and safe," Freya said, sighing heavily.

Tessy finally sat down, her shoulders slumping as she let out a shaky breath. The weight of her actions seemed to crush her, and Freya could only hope that getting her out of the country would give her the clarity she needed.

This was the first time Tessy had done something so reckless, and the regret was etched deeply into her face. She should have listened to Freya and stayed home. But all she'd wanted was a distraction from her problems. How could she have known it would lead to this?

"It's ready. You're all set," the travel agent announced, handing Tessy an envelope with her documents. His cheerful demeanor felt out of place in the tense atmosphere.

"Thanks, Vince. I owe you one," Freya said, flashing him a grateful smile. He winked in response before walking away, oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

It was already 6 pm, and the fading daylight cast long shadows across the city as Tessy drove with Freya back to her house—the one she shared with Francis, which would soon be her former home. The streets were quiet, but the silence between them was heavy with unspoken fears.

The only reason Tessy was returning was to collect her belongings. Little did she know, she was about to walk into a situation far more complicated than she'd anticipated.

As they entered the house, they found her father and mother seated in the large living room, along with Francis, Rachel, and Mrs. Smith Brown. The group of five turned their eyes toward her the moment she stepped inside, their expressions a mix of anger, judgment, and, in her mother's case, a flicker of concern.

"The prodigal daughter returns," Mr. Curt, her father, said, his voice cold and his gaze piercing.

"Dad—" Tessy began, but he cut her off sharply.

"Dad? Am I still your dad? You refused to take my calls, turned off your phone so I couldn't reach you, and now you're jeopardizing everything I've worked for. Is this how you treat someone you call your father?"

"Dad, please. How can you attack me like this without even asking what happened?" Tessy asked, her voice trembling with hurt. Her father had never taken her side, not once, and she should have been used to it by now. But this time, his words cut deeper than ever. Every ounce of mistreatment she'd endured from Francis and his mother had been because of her father's influence. Yet, he'd never made her feel valued.

"I don't need to hear anything from you. I already know everything I need to know, and I demand you get on your knees and apologize to your husband and mother-in-law right now," Mr. Curt declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Freya, who had been trying to stay out of the family drama, raised her eyebrows in disbelief. She'd known Tessy and her family for over a decade and was well aware of Mr. Curt's controlling nature. But this was beyond ridiculous.

"Apologize for what? I did nothing to them. They should be apologizing to me for disrespecting me," Tessy shot back, standing her ground. Her father's face reddened with anger, though he tried to keep his composure.

"You don't have to do something to apologize. Haven't you heard the saying, 'The wise woman builds her home, but the foolish one tears it down'? Wisdom says you should reflect on where you've gone wrong for your husband to take another wife and make amends. But you're being stubborn," Mr. Curt said, his words drawing smug smiles from Mrs. Smith Brown and Rachel.

"I can't believe you're saying this, Dad. But I'm sorry to disappoint you. For once in my life, I want to be foolish. I'm done with this marriage," Tessy declared, her voice firm.

Her parents stared at her in shock.

"You will do no such thing, you ungrateful child! You owe your life and everything you are to me, and this is how you repay me? How dare you bring shame to me after all I've done for you?" Mr. Curt exploded, his voice rising.

"Don't make hasty decisions, my child. You know how much your father has invested. Do this for the sake of the family. Apologize so we can move forward. We can address other issues later," Mrs. Curt chimed in, her voice breaking in that way Tessy hated. It always weakened her resolve.

"Mum... I'm sorry. You know I'd always listen to you, but things have gone too far—"

"Then let's not waste any more time. If you're tired of this marriage and family, the divorce papers are here. All you have to do is sign them and be free," Mrs. Smith Brown interrupted, pointing to the documents on the table, her tone dripping with impatience.

"Don't you dare do it, Tessy. If you do, you're no longer my daughter," her father threatened, his voice low and dangerous.

"Please, Tessy, let's settle this amicably. Marriage is hard, I know. But things will get better. This is a minor issue we can solve without going to extremes. Listen to me, Tessy. I'm your mother," Mrs. Curt pleaded, her eyes filled with desperation.

Tessy's heart ached. Her mother was the one person she couldn't bear to hurt. She would have given in to her plea, but the tangled mess of her current situation left her utterly confused.

Just as the tension reached its peak, three sharp knocks echoed at the door, pulling everyone's attention away from the confrontation.

Francis moved to answer it. The moment he opened the door, the cold tip of a gun pressed against his forehead, forcing him to step back as a masked man entered the house.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Mrs. Smith Brown demanded, her voice shaking as she jumped to her feet, her face pale with fear.

"It'll be in your best interest to stay silent. Your life depends on it," the masked man growled, his voice sending a chill through the room.

Behind him, four more armed men filed in, positioning themselves strategically around the room. Moments later, another figure stepped inside—one they all recognized.

It was Mr. Trevor Baliante.