Chained By The Alpha Jessica Hall

Cleo

It took us forty-five minutes for the rogue to lead us to the place the rogues had turned into their own campground, deep into the forest, down an almost concealed hiking trail. The path was narrow and overgrown, with branches whipping at our faces and underbrush snagging at our clothes as we pushed through the dense foliage

I clutched Zayn's hand tightly, my heart hammering against my chest as we made our way deeper into the wilderness

Finally, the rogue stopped and gestured towards a fallen tree, indicating that we should climb over it. We followed his lead, stepping carefully over the thick trunk and emerging from the

treeline into a small clearing. The sight that greeted us was both shocking and heart-wrenching

A group of men, women, and children, all dressed in tattered clothing, were scattered around the clearing. Some were huddled around small fires. Others were sharpening their knives or tending to their meager possessions Everywhere I looked, there were signs of struggle and desperation- their makeshift tents were falling apart, the firewood was scarce, and there was a distinct smell of unwashed bodies and rot

As we move closer to the group, I can't help but notice the hollow look in their eyes, the weariness that seemed to weigh down every movement. This 1s a wasteland of despair, hidden from the world's eyes. And yet, here they were, surviving against all odds, a ragtag

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I clutch Zayn's hand even tighter, feeling a surge of sympathy for these lost souls. How had they ended up here, and what had they endured to stay alive in this harsh environment? I can't imagine the struggles they have faced, it is unfathomable to me that people have been forced to live this way

The heavy scent of despair saturates the aur, wrapping us in a suffocating embrace as Zayn and I cautiously enter the rogue commune. My heart constricts painfully at the sight of dilapidated tents and ramshackle shelters, hastily assembled with desperation etched into every cobbled-together area. My green eyes are wide with a mixture of horror and empathy sweep over the faces of those surrounding us- emaciated figures, their gaze hollow and haunted, mere shadows of wolves clinging to

threadbare hope

Silenced by the overwhelming scene before us, words evade me as I take in the dire living conditions. The ground beneath our feet yields uneasily, almost akin to swampland, a stark contrast to the city just within reach. The abrupt realization that while we live luxuriously in warmth and comfort, this makeshift community opperates with nothing and forced on the fringes of society shakes me to my core. The very earth seems to cry out in silent protest against such injustice

"Zayn," I murmur, my voice trembling with raw emotion. Zayn's bewildered gaze meets mine, joined by Vance and his men, all struck speechless by the stark variance laid bare before them. Despite being in close proximity to the bustling city, here lies a forgotten families living off scraps of what our city discards. Our own

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kind turns a blind eye to their plight, condemning them to endure inhumane conditions exposed to the elements while trying to care for children

Amidst this desolation, children flit about with carefree abandon, their laughter piercing through the veil of suffering like fragile rays of sunlight through storm clouds. Their innocence is untouched by the harsh reality that envelopes them-the legacy of neglect passed down through generations within my mother's old pack making me realize these kids don't know any different to how they live now, it saddens me

Blake waves us forward, urging us towards the center where a group of women are cleaning fish that have been caught. There are hardly any men in sight, but those who remain immediately stand as we approach. Zayn raises his hands in a

placating gesture, as 1f he wants to convey to the men that he means no one here any harm

Blake rushes ahead, eager to explain why we are there. The men who linger are cautious, aware that they cannot very well stop Zayn's men when the few men we have brought with us already outnumber what's left of the men here. "Zayn, they're not a threat," I whisper, and he nods slowly, understanding my concern

"I know," Zayn replies, motioning for his men to stand down and come over. Vance is the first to join him, but he has the same horrified expression that I do, as muddy children rush around. "They're barely surviving," I whisper, my heart aching at the sight of the desperate people

Zayn's jaw clenches, and the silver of his eyes darkens to a stormy hue as he surveys the place

"This shouldn't exist," he growls, the Alpha power in his voice making the air vibrate around us. I'm sickened that my father would cast out so many, knowing the dangers of rogues-actual rogues-and if all these people hadn't stuck together when they did, they'd probably be just as crazed as the rest of the rogues. They've somehow formed a pack of the packless

We continue to observe the scene. The desperation they feel is palpable, and it's clear that they have banded together to survive in a world where many struggle to do so. The image of the women cleaning fish, the children rushing around, and the men standing guard 1s one I won't soon forget. It serves as a stark reminder of the harsh circumstances faced by those who have been abandoned by their own kind. At the same time, it hit me harder that my father declared me a rogue, and didn't care if this was the sort of life I lived. If it weren't for Zayn, I

could very well be in their place

We can't turn our backs on them now, but the challenge of helping them reintegrate into society while ensuring they don't become a danger to others will be a difficult one while

they adjust