Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 41: Fresh Start

Chapter 41: Fresh Start

TERESA’S P.O.V.

Leaving the city I’d called home for twenty-five years felt surreal, as if I were trapped in some feverish dream fueled by desperation, terror, and the faintest glimmer of hope. I’d built my entire life there—my memories, my connections, my identity—and yet, here I was, abandoning it all. As I drove, the thought of Lucian loomed in my mind, an inescapable shadow. Once, he was the man I adored, the man I thought loved me, but that illusion had shattered, leaving only a bitter sting of hatred and betrayal. I couldn’t shake the image of his eyes, cold and unfeeling, the moment he turned on me. I’d never forget it.

A shiver ran through me as I thought of what he’d do if he found out I was pregnant—with his children. The very idea made my chest constrict. I could imagine him ripping them from my arms, using them to hurt me or worse. I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t let that happen. Even if it meant erasing every trace of myself, of my past life, I’d disappear completely if I had to. I would go somewhere he’d never think to look, somewhere he couldn’t reach.

The road stretched out before me, an endless ribbon of asphalt fading into the night, and in the rearview mirror, the city lights shrank until they were nothing more than distant, twinkling memories. I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white, a blend of adrenaline and anxiety surging through me. Part of me questioned my decision. Was I losing my mind, overacting by leaving like this? Throwing my entire life away? But what choice did I have? That city, my so-called "home," had become a battlefield. My father, Vanessa, Sarah, Jennifer—they all treated me as though I were disposable, a nuisance to be brushed aside. Only Luke, my one true ally, had ever stood by me. And yet, leaving him behind was my only true regret in this desperate escape. He’d been my rock, my only friend, but staying would have endangered him as well.

It was close to 2 a.m. when I finally reached the outskirts of the city. Exhaustion weighed down on me like a thick fog. My body was aching, each bone and muscle screaming for rest. The drowsiness mixed with waves of nausea—a bitter reminder of my pregnancy, an ordeal I’d have to face alone. My heart thumped in sync with the rhythm of the wheels beneath me, each turn taking me further from everything familiar and safe, everything I’d ever known. But even as I drove, shadows of my past clung to me, their presence heavy in the silence of the night. Every glance in the rearview mirror felt like they were still there, lingering, refusing to release me from their grasp.

By the time exhaustion completely took hold, I managed to pull into a nearly empty gas station. I could barely gather the strength to park and recline my seat, let alone worry about the risks of sleeping in the car. The cold, hard seat pressed against my back as I curled up, doing my best to ignore the physical and emotional aches coursing through me. My body begged for sleep, but my mind refused to let go. The thought of Lucian, of what he’d do if he ever found me, gnawed at me even as I drifted in and out of uneasy sleep.

The next morning, nausea hit me like a wave, the brutal reality of my situation setting in. Despite my exhaustion, I forced myself back onto the road, knowing I couldn’t stop. Every mile was another piece of distance between me and the people who had hurt me—yet, it was also a mile farther from Luke. A pang of sadness hit me as I wondered if he’d already noticed I was gone. Would he worry? Would he try to find me? For a moment, I felt an overwhelming urge to turn back, to tell him everything, to cling to the one person who had always cared. But no—I couldn’t go back. Not now. Not when Lucian was a threat to my children, my unborn babies. They were all that mattered now.

As I drove, I whispered promises to them, words of comfort they couldn’t hear yet. "Mummy will keep you safe, my little ones," I murmured, clutching the wheel with determination. I had no idea where I was going, but as long as it was away from Lucian and the pain I’d left behind, I knew it was the right direction.

********

After three long days on the road, watching my cash dwindle as I filled up the gas tank at every other dusty station, I found myself staring up at a mountain range that seemed to emerge from nowhere. Its silent, timeless majesty felt like a balm to my worn out nerves, easing a small part of the tension I’d been holding onto since I ran. These mountains were untouched, almost sacred in their solitude, and for a moment, I felt a quiet sense of comfort. The road twisted and turned, leading me to a small, hidden town tucked away at the mountain’s base. It was like stepping into another world, one that didn’t seem to know the pain or fear I carried with me. The town was quaint, almost storybook-like, with cobblestone streets, cottages with flower-filled window boxes, and cozy little shops lining the narrow main street. People wandered through with easy familiarity, greeting each other warmly, as if everyone was an old friend.

I parked outside a modest diner, feeling the empty ache in my stomach. It had been too long since I’d eaten anything decent. My hands shook as I gripped the car door handle, nerves prickling as I took in the sight of a new place that I hoped could offer me a sliver of safety. I took a steadying breath and stepped inside. Warmth enveloped me immediately, the gentle hum of voices and the clinking of plates creating a soothing backdrop. It felt like a blanket wrapping around me, reminding me of what I’d been missing—a sense of home, however temporary. I ordered something small, hoping not to draw too much attention to myself, but I could feel curious eyes on me. Locals exchanged glances, subtly wondering who this stranger was, but none of them looked hostile. In fact, their curiosity seemed almost welcoming.

The diner’s owner, a kind-looking woman with silver-streaked hair and a soft smile, approached me after a while. She had an air of calm wisdom, her gray eyes filled with a gentle understanding that made me want to lower the walls I’d built so high. "Just passing through, dear?" she asked, her voice gentle yet inviting as she set down my meal, her tone soft like a warm blanket on a cold night.

I hesitated, my throat tightening. The words I’d been keeping inside tangled themselves up as I fought to keep my emotions in check. "Sort of," I managed, my voice almost a whisper. "I’m... looking for a fresh start."

She studied me for a moment, not with prying eyes but with the quiet patience of someone who’d seen more of life than most. "Sometimes," she said softly, almost as if speaking to herself, "a fresh start is just a place where someone sees you’re hurting and doesn’t ask too many questions." She gave me a small, knowing smile. "I have a little cabin out by the edge of town. Nothing fancy, just a place to catch your breath if you need it."

A warmth flooded my chest. For a second, I felt the walls I’d built crack, just a little. "Really? I... I wouldn’t want to be a bother."

"Oh, nonsense." She chuckled softly, waving her hand as if to brush away my doubts. "We all need a place to land once in a while. Besides, it’s quiet there. Peaceful. Just you and the woods." Her eyes softened more, and she added gently, "No strings, dear. Just an open door; sometimes, that’s all we need to find ourselves again."

I felt a lump rise in my throat, tears burning the corners of my eyes. The relief was almost overwhelming. "Thank you. Really, thank you." My voice was barely steady, but she only smiled, patting my shoulder with a motherly warmth that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

"No need to thank me, dear. Just take care of yourself. That’s thanks enough."

That first night in the cabin, with only the quiet murmur of the forest around me, I let the floodgates open. I wept for everything I’d lost, for the pain and fear that had driven me away from my old life. I wept for Luke, the only person who had ever truly been there for me, and ached with the knowledge that I couldn’t risk calling him, couldn’t even risk turning on my phone until I knew this place was safe. The silence of the cabin held my grief, each sob echoing back to me, reminding me that here, at least, I was free to feel.

Days blurred into weeks, and gradually, I began to build a new life. I found a simple routine—picking up shifts at the diner and working a few hours at the little bookstore that sat like a hidden gem on the main street. Over time, the townspeople began to recognize me, their nods and smiles transforming from polite curiosity to warm greetings. For the first time in years, I felt like I belonged somewhere, like I was part of a community that accepted me without needing to know the full story.

One evening, as I sat on the small porch of my cabin, watching the sun dip below the mountains and paint the sky with hues of pink and orange, a calmness washed over me. The air was crisp and cool, and for the first time, I didn’t feel the weight of constant dread. Resting my hand on my growing belly, a soft smile crept across my face. "It’s just us now," I whispered, barely audible to anyone but myself and the children within. "But we’re going to be okay. I’ll keep you safe."

The fear of Lucian finding me lingered like a shadow at the edge of my thoughts, a dark cloud that refused to fully disappear. But here, surrounded by the peace of this quiet town and the strength I felt growing within me, that fear didn’t have the same hold. I was building something new—a life for myself and for the children I carried. As long as I could protect them, nothing else mattered. I had found a place to heal, to grow stronger, to become the mother they deserved. And here, in this hidden corner of the world, I felt hope for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.