Rejected and Claimed by her Alpha Triplets-Chapter 299 - this path

299

~Lisa’s POV

The wolf I had thrown off came back at me again, joined by two others. They circled me, growling low, their teeth flashing in the moonlight. I could taste blood in my mouth, mine and theirs, but I wasn’t ready to give up. One lunged from the side, and I turned just in time to sink my fangs into his neck. He yelped, and I pushed him back, but another slammed into my side, sending me crashing into a wooden fence. The crack of wood echoed, and I felt a sharp pain in my ribs.

I snarled and pushed myself up, claws out. They came at me together this time, three against one. I bit one on the leg, raked another’s face with my claws, but the third bit into my hind leg, tearing deep. I howled, struggling to stay upright. My breath came out in short, painful bursts, my body aching all over. The ground was slippery with blood and dust.

Still, I fought. I threw one off balance, bit another’s ear clean off, but I could feel my strength fading. My limbs were heavy, and my vision blurred. I knew I couldn’t keep this up.

When another guard charged, I dodged to the side and ran. My paws hit the ground hard, blood dripping from my wounds as I darted between huts. They howled behind me, giving chase. I ran faster, heart pounding in my chest, weaving through narrow paths, jumping over broken fences and piles of barrels. My lungs burned, but I didn’t stop until their howls faded away in the distance.

When I was sure I had lost them, I slowed down and shifted back into my human form, collapsing behind a large tree. My body trembled with exhaustion. My clothes were torn and soaked with blood. I tore off a strip from what was left of my shirt and pressed it hard against the wound on my shoulder, tying it tightly to stop the bleeding.

I could barely breathe. Every movement hurt. But I forced myself to keep going, hiding from the patrols that roamed the area. I avoided the market, avoiding anyone who could recognize me. My bare feet carried me through the shadows, my eyes scanning every corner for safety.

At last, I reached the familiar road that led to my father’s house. My heart ached as I looked around. The night was cold and still, the kind of silence that carried memories. I could hear the faint rustle of dry leaves under my bare feet and the soft creak of the wind pushing at the broken gate. It was quiet, too quiet. No guards. No servants. No one.

My chest tightened as I stood before the gate. I used to walk through it every morning, proud and strong, with people bowing as I passed. Now, I was nothing but a fugitive, dirty, wounded, and hungry. I swallowed hard, forcing back the lump in my throat.

"They won’t expect me here," I whispered to myself. My voice trembled, barely a breath. I climbed over the wall carefully, my weak arms shaking as I pulled myself up. When I landed on the other side, pain shot through my ribs, but I bit down hard and stayed quiet.

The courtyard that once looked grand and full of life was now a shadow of what it used to be. Broken pots lay scattered across the ground. The fountain in the middle was dry, its surface cracked. The air smelled of dust and decay. I turned slowly, taking it all in, and the reality hit me hard: my father had been captured, and his home had been stripped bare by the pack.

A heavy sadness settled in my chest. I remembered how he used to stand here, giving orders to the servants, his voice strong and commanding. I could almost hear his laughter echoing in the air. Now, there was nothing but silence. Cold, suffocating silence.

Tears burned in my eyes as I walked toward the house. Each step felt heavier than the last. The wooden door was half open, hanging loosely on its hinges. I pushed it gently, and it creaked loudly, echoing through the empty hall.

Inside, the house was dark. Dust floated in the air, catching the faint light that filtered through the broken windows. The curtains were torn. Furniture overturned. Everything was covered in dirt. I stood there for a long time, staring, unable to move.

This was once home. This was where I grew up, where I laughed, where I dreamed. And now... it was gone. Everything gone. And that was because of me.

My legs felt weak, and I reached out to touch the wall, my fingers brushing against the rough surface. I remembered my father leaning there, his arms crossed, scolding me for sneaking out or teasing the servants. I could almost see him standing there still, strong, proud, and alive.

"Father..." I whispered, my voice cracking. My throat ached as the tears spilled freely. I pressed my forehead against the wall, trembling. "I’m sorry... I’m so sorry..."

The silence answered me.

My stomach growled loudly, dragging me back to reality. Hunger hit me like a wave. I forced myself to move, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. I stumbled into the kitchen, hoping, praying to find something.

But the kitchen was just as empty. The shelves were bare, the pots overturned, the floor covered with broken plates and spilled ashes from the old stove. I opened every cupboard, even the small ones, but there wasn’t a single crumb left. Not a single trace of food.

Desperation clawed at me. I fell to my knees and opened one of the lower cupboards, my fingers scraping through dust and wood splinters. Nothing. My hands shook. My stomach ached.

I sat back against the counter, weak and trembling. My hair stuck to my face, and my whole body was sore from fighting and running. I could feel my heartbeat in my wounds.

"What have I done?" I whispered. The words broke out of me before I could stop them. My voice was small, shaking.

Tears blurred my vision as I lowered my head. "Why did I choose this path?"

"Everything... everything’s gone because of me."

Tears streamed down my face, hot and endless. My chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. I wanted to scream, to hit something, to undo every choice I made, but it was too late. The pack hated me. The triplets would kill me if they found me. Fridolf was gone. My father was captured. And I had nowhere left to run.

I pushed myself up slowly, and I made my way down the hall to my old room. The door creaked loudly as I pushed it open, and the smell of dust and mold hit me immediately.

I sat down slowly, my body shaking from weakness. I touched the pillow, and it was damp and smelled awful, but I didn’t care. Tears kept falling as I lay my head down, curling myself into a tight ball. The pain in my body mixed with the pain in my heart, and I couldn’t hold it in anymore.