MasukSophia
Checking my reflection in my small mirror, I tuck a few strands of hair behind my ear, which have escaped from my braid. Running my hand over my white dress, I try to smoothen it as much as I can. Honoring the Moon Goddess, all the she-wolves wear white, especially the unmated she-wolves.
This is the only nice dress that I own that I have been wearing for the past few years on the Red Moon. But since tonight is Full Moon Ball, I decided to wear it even though it is not Red Moon because I want to look a bit presentable in front of others.
Wiping my face with the small hand towel, I once again check my reflection before I head out towards the training ground to help others prepare the ground for the Full Moon shift.
All the unmated wolves will try to find their mates during the ball. And later, when midnight strikes, everyone would come outside and shift into their wolves and go for the run. Newly mated wolves will celebrate their unions while the other will run alongside their family and friends.
I join a group of pack members setting up tables and chairs for the post-ball feast. Almost everyone leaves as soon as I join the table, and moves to work on the other table. I can hear their taunts directed towards me and the sound of their laughs that they are having at my expanse.
But not paying attention to their words, I keep my focus on the work at hand; the sooner I finish here, the sooner I can get back into the safety of my room.
I am not allowed to attend the Full Moon ball as per my father's order because he is embarrassed to be associated with me. Joke on him, his blood runs through my veins, even if he want he can never turn his face from this truth.
Just as I finish setting up one of the last tables, I feel a rough shove from behind. I stumble but manage to catch myself before falling.
"Watch where you're going, bitch," a voice sneers.
I turn to see Kane, one of the warriors, glaring at me with a smirk on his face. His smirk identical to Cynthia's a strong giveaway he is her nephew.
Not only look, but it seems like they even share the same mean streak. Maybe it is their blood.
"Sorry, Kane," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "I didn't see you there."
"Yeah, well, maybe you should pay more attention," he snaps, stepping closer. "Or maybe you are seeking opportunities to get closer to me." His eyes move up and down my body, causing a shiver to run down my spine in disgust.
I feel a surge of anger but force myself to stay calm.
"I am not interested in you." Keeping my face neutral, I look at him, "In fact, if anything, you disgust me."
His smirk falters, replaced by a flash of anger.
You should watch your mouth, Sophia," he snarls, grabbing my throat. "You don't get to talk to me like that."
He closes his fingers around my throat, blocking my airways. Everyone stops doing whatever they are doing and looks in our direction.
It is becoming difficult for me to breathe, and I try to free myself by clawing his hands away from my neck.
"Let go of me, Kane." My voice comes out choked as my vision becomes blurry due to lack of oxygen.
Suddenly, a large gray wolf comes out of nowhere and attacks Kane. I hear screams of horror coming from some she-wolves, along with Cynthia's screams.
My vision turns hazy as I feel myself losing control of my body. I begin to fall down as my eyes shut.
Even before I could fall down, a strong pair of arms wrapped around me while holding me close.
A strange comfort washes over me while my nose registers the most amazing and intoxicating smell I have ever smelled.
I am trying to fight against the darkness and forcing my eyes to open, but I am failing miserably.
Lucas“I can’t believe I am sharing my daily life with you.”Aurora’s eyes shine when she says it. Not the polite shine people put on when they want approval. This is the kind that spills out before she can stop it. She is sitting close enough that I can feel the warmth of her arm through fabric, close enough that her excitement hums against my ribs.“It’s boring and mundane,” she adds quickly, like she is apologizing for herself.She talks with her hands when she gets like this. Fingers moving, pausing, curling back toward her palms. I notice how she watches my face while she speaks, checking for disappointment that never comes.“There’s so much you do back at your place,” she continues. “Everyone has something going on. Everyone matters in some way. And here my life is just…” She gestures vaguely behind her, toward the estate. “Contained. I do nothing. I wake up, I exist, I go to sleep.”A small frown appears, barely there, like she does not want to admit it out loud. She presses he
LucasThis is the strangest breakfast of my life.Not because of the food. The food looks perfect. Too perfect. Everything placed with care, portions exact, plates aligned like someone measured the distance between them. No crumbs. No clatter. No one reaches across the table without asking. Even the sound of cutlery feels muted, like the room itself is listening.It feels cold. Not temperature cold. Something else. Emotional. Like breakfast here is another task on a checklist. Wake up. Dress well. Sit where you are told. Eat. Speak only when appropriate.I take one glance around the table and understand the structure instantly. No one sits randomly. Seats mean something. There is hierarchy in the sitting arrangement. But this hierarchy is nothing like the one we have in the pack. In my pack, meals are chaos in the best way.Someone is always stealing food off someone else’s plate. Someone complains about seasoning. Someone tells a story halfway through chewing and everyone yells at
LucasI watch Aurora for a long moment after her breathing falls into that deep, even rhythm that tells me she is really asleep. Not the kind where she might wake if the mattress shifts or the air changes. This is the kind where her body finally lets go.Her lashes rest against her cheeks, casting faint shadows. Her lips part slightly, just enough to soften her whole face. She looks younger like this.I move slowly. Everything about me slows when I peel myself away from her. I ease my arm out from beneath her head, inch by inch, replacing the space with the pillow so she does not feel the loss. She stirs once, a quiet sound leaving her throat, and I freeze. My eyes stay on her face until her breathing smooths again.Only then do I stand.I pull the blanket higher, tucking it around her shoulders, smoothing the fabric like my hands know exactly where to go. My wolf insists on it, a low push in my chest that says warmth matters, safety matters. I listen.I start looking around, letting
LucasAurora exhales sharply through her nose. I feel it before I hear it, the way anger moves through her like a flare, fast and hot. The bond carries it straight to me. No filter. No softening. Just raw feeling pressing against my ribs. She does not look at me. Her gaze stays on the wreck of her room like she is recording damage inside her own head.There is one thing I cannot fault this place for. Efficiency. Arthur gives an order and the house responds like a single organism. People move in and out without noise, without questions. Drawers are lifted, clothes folded, hangers aligned. In less than twenty minutes, the room resets itself. When the last person leaves, the door clicks shut and the silence settles. It is just me and Aurora now.I was not planning on staying here. But after what happened today, there is no way I am leaving Aurora alone. I don't trust anyone, not even Arthur. No one gets the benefit of my trust. Not guards. Not family. Not allies who stand too easily in
LucasArthur goes into war mode without letting any of the outrage seeping outside him.He stands in the middle of the corridor outside Aurora’s room, posture composed, hands clasped behind his back, expression unreadable to anyone. I know better. The calm is tight. Contained. His anger does not flare outward. It folds inward, sharp and focused, the kind that cuts clean.“Somebody was inside the house,” he says, voice level, eyes fixed on the guards lined up in front of him. “Inside Aurora’s room. And none of you were aware of it.”The guards stand straighter. One of them swallows. Another shifts his weight just a fraction, enough for me to clock nervous energy. Arthur sees it too. He sees everything right now.“Sir,” one of them says, choosing his words carefully, “nobody entered the private part of the house. As per your orders, all guests were contained in the main area.”Arthur turns slowly and points toward the open door behind us. The mess inside Aurora’s room is still visible.
LucasThe first thing that hits me when I enter Arthur’s office is the smell of smoke. Thick. Bitter. It sits in the room like it belongs here. Arthur takes another pull from his cigar and exhales slowly, eyes never leaving me as I cross the threshold. He looks exactly as he always does when he wants control. Relaxed posture. Sharp attention.The door closes behind me with a quiet finality. No echo. No drama. Just a sound that tells me this conversation is meant to stay contained.Arthur gestures toward the empty chair in front of his desk. I sit, my movements calm, my focus already dissecting the room. The bookshelf behind him. The way his fingers rest near the ashtray. The faint tension in his jaw that suggests he is expecting resistance.“So,” I say, skipping any pretense, “what is going on?”He does not answer right away. He watches me instead, like he is deciding which version of the truth to offer.“Arthur,” I continue, keeping my voice even, “I need to know everything. This is







