I reported my sister’s falsified research findings and ended up locked in a freezer by my mate.
A single note lay on the floor:
[You’ll be released when Mila calms down.]
“Alpha Levi, please, this isn’t funny. I could really freeze to death in here…”
I apologized endlessly into the intercom.
But all I heard in return was the flat, robotic tone of a disconnected line.
Three days later, my sister suddenly remembered me:
“Oh no, you think Sadie’s frozen her brain?”
Alpha Levi’s usually composed eyes widened in shock, “You left her in there?”
He rushed into the freezer to find a lifeless body in a white lab coat, clutching a bloodstained confession note.
---
“Smack—!”
The slap burned my cheek, leaving it numb.
The one who hit me was Owen, a Delta warrior in the Silver Claw Pack and Mila’s loyal follower—a wannabe social climber using her connections.
"Still stubborn, are we? Your sister is writing a legitimate thesis; who do you think you are accusing her of data plagiarism?"
Owen looked down at me, his eyes gleaming with the triumph of a petty villain.
I clenched my jaw, fighting against the pain, refusing to back down, “Alpha Levi won’t let you get away with this.”
But he merely adjusted his glasses and turned away with a smirk:
“Do you really think the Alpha’s on your side? The moment he left the lab with your sister, he made his choice.”
I stood there, unable to respond.
I’d accused Mila of stealing three months’ worth of my experimental data, believing that Alpha Levi, as the head researcher, would remain impartial.
Yet, the next day, Mila publicly wept and ‘accidentally’ broke my rookie award.
The achievement I’d worked so hard for was shattered, along with my pride, right in front of everyone.
Glass shards were everywhere.
Alpha Levi’s first reaction wasn’t to reprimand Mila but to remove his lab coat and carry her trembling, sobbing form from the lab.
I’d known Alpha Levi for seven years, long enough to understand his perfectionism.
He despised incompetence, was strict, pursued excellence, and had a strong regard for relationships and emotions.
Previously, he’d always dismissed clingy admirers with a cold sneer, making it clear they should back off.
But with Mila, Alpha Levi was different.
Before leaving, Alpha Levi said:
“Calm down, I’ll look into this further.”
So, I waited as he asked.
With critical evidence gone, there was nothing I could do but wait.
I waited as my research funding was cut, and I waited for Owen.
Owen invited me to see some new equipment in the freezer.
Once I stepped inside, the door clicked shut behind me, locking me within.
A surge of cold hit me, and I desperately banged on the door, but it was no use.
I searched for my phone, but the screen only showed “Signal Interrupted.”
In the corner of the utility cabinet, there were a torn thermal blanket, a few abandoned frozen chicken pieces, and an unopened box of confession paper.
I crouched in the corner, clutching my lab coat tightly, and my hands trembled as I picked up a pen.
In the corner of a sheet was Alpha Levi’s handwriting:
[Write your confession.]
[You’ll be released when Mila calms down.]
A chill ran down my spine.
Alpha Levi hadn’t ignored my pleas.
He just didn’t believe me.
Desperately, I ripped open a plastic bag, used a lighter and a heat rod from the lab to light some loose papers, and huddled close to the small fire.
Fourteen degrees below zero.
My fingers were turning a sickly purple.
I pressed the intercom button repeatedly, begging for help:
“Owen, don’t do this… you know how long a person can survive in these temperatures…”
“Alpha Levi… Alpha Levi… I’m sorry, please let me out…”
My voice grew weaker.
No one responded.
Until the dead of night, when the fire was nearly out, I curled up into a ball and made one last call to Alpha Levi.
Unexpectedly, it connected.
“Alpha Levi, don’t fight with my sister because of me… I’m really fine…”
On the other end, Mila's gentle, innocent voice came through.
Alpha Levi replied calmly:
“You’re overthinking it, we didn’t argue.”
I gripped the phone tightly, my knuckles whitening.
A single “beep—” ended the call.
