Chapter Three: The Storm I Didn’t See Coming

LOGAN

The day had been long, and yet not a single moment felt satisfying. From the instant those men were brought before me, I had known none of them were worthy. 

There was nothing in their postures that spoke of strength, no fire in their eyes, no grit in their voices. Just trembling mouths offering false bravado and broken promises. 

And I, being a man who had little patience for mediocrity, decided then that five of them were a waste of breath. They dropped at my feet, their blood seeping into the gravel, still warm as the stench of cowardice clung to their lifeless forms.

The rest, the six who remained, had pleaded for one chance to be trained, to be shaped into warriors. I granted it not because I believed them, but because I was curious to see if anything worthwhile could be salvaged from the wreckage of their fear.

As I left the courtyard, my thoughts strayed once again to Seraphina. The name alone made a fierce anger to settle in my chest, one that never seemed to lift, no matter how far I ran from the reality of what she represented; duty, obligation, but and appearance.

She was everything the council admired in a Luna. Noble blood, extensive training, beauty, poise, and enough arrogance to rival a goddess. 

But to me, she was nothing more than a calculated arrangement, a piece on the board that kept peace among packs and maintained the illusion of unity. 

I had made it clear from the start that I did not love her, that I would never love her. Our union was strategic, ceremonial at best, a political necessity rather than a romantic bond. And she had claimed to be content with that truth. 

Yet in three years, she had only come to my bed four times, with each encounter colder than the last, as though she were fulfilling a royal duty rather than desiring anything real between us.

I had always known I would need a breeder eventually. Someone to give me an heir. But I never expected fate to drop a woman like her into my path.

Reina.

There had been something almost unsettling about the way my wolf had stirred the moment I first laid eyes on her. She was a broken soul, looking malnourished and bruised all over, the pain in her body mirrored perfectly in the hollow of her eyes. 

She had stood before me not with defiance, nor submission, but with a kind of numbed indifference that I had never seen before, and it intrigued me. 

She looked as though the world had already ended for her, as though death would have been mercy compared to what she had endured.

Still, something about her... demanded my attention.

It was not love. No, it wasn't. It was also not desire in the way it was with other women. It was something deeper, something far more primal. 

I wanted to see what she would look like with her strength restored, her bones fed, her spirit allowed to breathe. I wanted to know how a soul so wounded could have survived this long without breaking completely.

So here I am, on my way to find the head maid, just to give instructions to cater for a stranger who should've been scrubbing the dungeon floors for bread. And hoping that she could be something more to me.

But before I could entertain those thoughts for too long, the high-pitched voice of my supposed Luna echoed through the corridor like a knife scraping against stone.

"Logan!" Seraphina’s fury rang loud enough to shake the halls. "Where is she? That disgusting, pitiful slave girl... where is she?!"

I didn’t stop walking. I didn’t even flinch. My silence was enough to answer her, and it only made her angrier. She stormed behind me, her heels slamming against the polished floor in a rhythm that sounded like war.

“You think you can keep her here without my knowledge?” she demanded. “You dare to protect a woman who dared insult me?”

It took everything in me not to turn and silence her permanently. Not because she questioned me, but because of the rage in her voice that was so purely directed at Reina stirred something dark inside me. 

But that I didn’t know what unnerved me more; her hatred toward the girl or my instinct to protect her from it.

Ignoring her, I made my way to the kitchen where everyone stopped in their tracks on seeing me. It took them a few seconds to realize that they were to bow in greeting. 

On a regular day, I'd have ordered them to be punished, but I didn't care about anything else other than Reina. "Where's Margaret?" I demanded. 

The older woman stepped forward, bowing even deeper. "Here, my lord."

"Good," I mumbled. "Follow me." She said nothing, only bowed her head and did as she was told.

As we rounded the corner, Seraphina stood before us, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring me down. "You can't ignore me, Logan! You can't! You have absolutely no right to cancel my orders without first -" 

I had had enough. I came to a halt and turned slowly, allowing my gaze to settle on Seraphina’s furious face. “Return to your chambers,” I said quietly, my voice a calm storm. “Do not step out for the rest of the day.”

She stared at me, stunned. Her lips parted as if she wanted to argue, but she knew better than to challenge me in that state. She spun on her heel and stormed off, her pride bruised and her plans for vengeance temporarily restrained.

We continued on our way and when we arrived at the door to Reina’s room, I noticed it had been shut from the inside. The maid beside me waited, unsure. I raised my hand and knocked gently, my fingers barely brushing the wood.

“Reina,” I said, my tone softer than I had intended, “it’s me. Open the door.”

There was a pause long enough to make me wonder if she’d fallen asleep or simply chosen to ignore me. Then, slowly, the door creaked open, and she peered through it with cautious eyes.

Her face was still bruised, the marks on her skin fresh from Seraphina’s punishment. My gaze ran over her form, assessing her silently, noting the way her shoulders curved slightly inward as if to protect herself from being seen.

She was so quiet. Like a flame that hadn’t quite gone out.

“This is Margaret,” I said, gesturing toward the maid. “She’s the head of staff.”

Margaret gave a polite nod but avoided Reina’s gaze entirely. I didn’t blame her.

“Margaret,” I said, turning to face her. “I am instructing that from this day forward, she are to be fed four times a day. Not twice, not when it’s convenient, but four full meals, hot and complete, no matter the hour.”

Margaret nodded quickly, hands folded nervously in front of her.

“You will also assign someone to her care. A maid who will bring her anything she needs, be it clothing, water, or supplies. And each morning, without fail, the pack nurse will tend to her wounds.”

I turned to face her fully, my voice colder now. “And if Seraphina or any other person learns of this woman’s presence because of your carelessness, you will lose your head by my hand. Do I make myself clear?”

Margaret went pale, her eyes wide. “Perfectly, Alpha.”

I dismissed her with a flick of my hand and turned back to Reina, who had stepped further into the room. Her posture was stiff, her expression unreadable, but there was something in her eyes I couldn’t look away from. Not pain. Not fear. Something else.

Cautiously, I lifted a hand and placed it against her cheek, letting my thumb brush the edge of her bruise. She stiffened at the contact, but she didn’t pull away.

The heat of her skin startled me.

How could anyone do this to such a dainty looking woman? I wondered quietly, more to myself than to her. Even if you were a servant... you didn’t deserve this.

She said nothing, only stared at me, eyes searching mine as if unsure whether to believe my gentleness or brace for cruelty.

I drew back my hand slow

ly.

“I won’t hurt you,” I told her, the words falling from my lips like a vow. “Not now. Not ever.”