Claimed By The Alpha

The paper in my hand trembled with every bump of the train. The edges were already soft from how many times I had unfolded and refolded it. The ink had smudged in places, but I could still see the words written there.

Station 15. Elwood.

That name had echoed in my mind since the day Aunt Neela’s letter arrived. Elwood—the town where I had to start again. A place I had never seen, filled with people I had never met.

Outside the window, the world kept changing. First came wide fields, golden and green, stretching so far they seemed endless. Then patches of trees appeared, their leaves blurring as the train sped past. After that came shadows of hills, gray and heavy under a clouded sky.

Inside the train, the air was hot and stuffy. The metal walls rattled, and the floor trembled under my shoes. But it wasn’t the heat that made my chest feel tight. It was the hollow space inside me. The emptiness that had been there ever since Aunt Lethia was gone.

I pressed my forehead against the cool glass and tried to swallow the lump in my throat.

I hadn’t wanted to leave Arandelle. Not like this.

My thoughts went back, as they always did, to Aunt Lethia—her laugh, warm and bright. The smell of cinnamon bread that filled the kitchen every Sunday morning. The way her hand always rested on my shoulder when she told me to be strong. She had been my anchor, my home, my everything. Now she was gone.

The weight of that truth pressed down again, sharp and heavy. My fingers squeezed the paper until it crumpled. This address was all I had left—letters on a page, written in Aunt Neela’s neat, careful handwriting. And the promise that she would meet me at the station.

We had spoken only once, on the phone.

Even then, I had felt the difference. Her voice had been clipped, exact. Not rude, but cold. She used no extra words, gave no softness in her tone. She was nothing like Aunt Lethia. And now, I was going to live with her.

The train roared into a tunnel, and darkness covered the windows. For a moment, I saw only my reflection staring back at me—pale face, tired eyes, lips pressed tight.

That was when it sank in fully. I was leaving everything behind. The city streets I knew. The home that smelled like cinnamon. The people who understood me.

Ahead was nothing but the unknown. The tunnel ended, and sunlight spilled back in. But it was a pale light, weak under the gray sky. The land outside looked rough, overgrown with weeds and wild grass.

The train car was nearly empty now. Most passengers had left at earlier stops. Only a handful remained. An old man dozed under his hat. A young woman read a book so worn the cover was peeling. A boy stared out the window like he, too, was being taken somewhere against his will.

I tried to steady myself with slow breaths. It’s just a small town, I told myself. People live there. Aunt Neela lives there. It can’t be that strange. But the slip of paper in my hand felt heavier than ever.

The train screeched suddenly, the sound making me jolt upright. My heart thudded. I looked out the window and froze.

This wasn’t a station. Through the glass, I saw only a wall of tangled weeds and trees.

The train slowed more and finally stopped.

A knock at my compartment door made me jump. The conductor stepped inside. His uniform was dusted with ash from the engine. His face looked tired, lined with soot.

“Miss,” he said. “This is your stop.

Station 15. Elwood.”

I blinked at him. “Elwood? Are you sure? I thought—”

But he was already reaching for my suitcase.

I stood quickly, my heart racing, and followed him into the narrow hallway. The walls pressed close. The air felt too thick.

When I stepped out onto the platform, the sight before me stole my breath. This wasn’t a real station. Not even close.

The platform was nothing more than old wood, weather-beaten and cracked. Parts of it sagged, ready to break. The roof above drooped so low I thought it might fall in the next storm. A single bench sat buried in dust. A lamp leaned crooked, its glass broken. Grass climbed the posts, swallowing the steps.

My suitcase landed with a dull thud. A puff of dust rose into the air.

The conductor gave me a small nod.

“Station 15.”

“This can’t be right,” I whispered. “This doesn’t look like—”

The train whistle cut me off. The ground shook as the engine roared to life.

“Wait!” I cried. “You can’t leave me here!”

But the wheels were already grinding forward. The conductor didn’t look back.

“Wait!” My voice cracked. I ran after the last carriage, but it only sped up, the wind whipping my hair into my face. In seconds, the train vanished, leaving me alone on the splintering platform.

Silence fell heavy and complete. My breath came shallow and quick. I unfolded the paper again and stared at the address.

Aunt Neela had written it herself. She had promised to meet me. She wouldn’t lie.

And yet…

The woods pressed close across the tracks, dark and endless. Behind the platform stretched empty farmland, cut by a narrow dirt road. A bird cried overhead, sharp and lonely.

I swallowed hard and walked to a wooden post where a faded sign clung. The paint was nearly gone, eaten by years of rain and sun, but the words were still there.

Station 15. Elwood.

My knees nearly gave out. This was it.

This broken, forgotten place.

I pressed my lips together and tried to breathe evenly. Maybe Aunt Neela would come soon. Maybe she would explain everything. I just had to wait.

The stillness was so deep it rang in my ears.

Then—

A horn blared.

I spun, my heart lurching, and saw an old black car crawling down the dirt road. Relief surged so fast my eyes stung.

I grabbed my suitcase and hurried forward.

The car passed me at first, panic clawing up my chest, but then it braked sharply. Dust swirled in the air. My heart pounded as the driver’s door opened.

“Cosette Zedler.”