Luna Imogen

The dawn had barely touched the arrow-slits when the harem door slammed open.

“Up! Now!”

Odessa stormed in with a wooden stick, cracking it against the iron bunk frames, each blow ringing like a whip. The Omegas jolted awake, scrambling down ladders with muffled whimpers. All but one.

Scarlett was already sitting upright on the top bunk, knees pulled to her chest, silver hair spilling over her shoulders like spilled moonlight. She hadn’t slept. The shadows under her honey-brown eyes said so. She knew exactly what her stillness did to Odessa. The Beta wanted cowering, and Scarlett gave her none.

She took her time unfolding herself, then dropped to the stone floor, bare feet silent, and met Odessa’s glare with eyes that promised nothing like fear.

Jada slipped in behind the Beta, carrying bundles of pale-blue linen so soft it seemed stolen from the clouds. It slid cool and fine over scarred skin, nothing like yesterday’s scratchy wool. The women dressed in hurried silence.

“Move,” Odessa snapped, jerking her chin toward the corridor. “The Luna awaits.”

They were marched through frost-bitten halls, torchlight flickering over Scarlett’s loose hair. Her spine stayed straight. Beneath the soft linen, her heart beat like a war drum.

The gilded doors swung open. The Luna’s chambers glowed like a jewel set in ice. Pale silk curtains stirred at an open balcony, and beyond it, snow-capped peaks glittered under a weak winter sun. The air smelled of warm milk and honeyed oats.

Luna Imogen reclined in an ivory velvet chair, her breakfast tray pushed aside, her silver hair loose around her shoulders. Seven months heavy with the Alpha’s child, she wore sapphire silk stretched over the taut curve of her belly, and her breath came in shallow, careful huffs. A young maid knelt at her feet, rubbing scented oil into swollen ankles.

Odessa sank into a deep bow. “Luna Imogen. May I present your new maids-in-waiting.”

One by one, the women stepped forward. Three trembled with their eyes on the floor. The fourth looked straight at the Luna.

Imogen’s pale-blue eyes, tired and sharp, narrowed on the girl at the end of the line. Then her gaze caught on the silver hair, the same moon-pale strands as her own, and something flickered across her face. Recognition. Then interest.

She lifted one jeweled hand. “Come here, child. Your name. And from which kingdom were you... purchased?”

Scarlett’s fingers curled. Purchased. The word tasted like iron.

She stepped forward and did not curtsy. “Scarlett,” she said, clear and unadorned. “Of Oshea.”

No “my lady”. No bow.

“Scarlett of Oshea, Luna Imogen,” Odessa hissed, her voice cracking like a whip. “You will address her with respect or…”

Imogen laughed. It was soft and tired and entirely unbothered, and it stopped Odessa mid-word.

“Leave her, Odessa. Manners can be taught.” She leaned forward slowly, tucked a silver lock behind her ear, and studied Scarlett with open curiosity. “I was born in Torrine, before Dravonia claimed me. When I saw your hair, I thought you were one of my own.” Her smile deepened. “But fate chose differently. I think I’ll like you anyway.”

Then she tilted her head toward Odessa, eyes bright with mischief. “Winter will adore this one. Mark my words.”

“He bought her himself,” Odessa said, a note of something dry in her voice. “At the slave inn. For five thousand gold.”

Imogen’s brows lifted. She shifted forward, and the child shifted inside her. “Has he bedded her yet?”

Scarlett’s breath stopped.

“No, Luna,” Odessa answered. “Not yet.”

Yet. The word lodged in Scarlett’s chest like a splinter. Alarm flashed across her face, and Imogen saw it at once, her smile gentling into something slow and knowing.

“Easy, child. In the harem, we all serve the Alpha’s desires when he calls.” She rested a hand over her belly. “Especially now, while I am indisposed.”

Scarlett swallowed. The question was out before she could stop it. “And if we refuse? What happens if we say no?”

Odessa moved like a striking viper. The stick whistled through the air and cracked across Scarlett’s calf, exactly where the whip had already bruised her. Pain exploded white. Her knees hit the fur-covered floor, her palms slapping down hard.

“Odessa!”

The Luna’s voice rang out, sharper than anyone had expected from a woman who could barely breathe. The Beta froze with the stick raised.

“Enough. Let her ask. Curiosity is no sin in my chambers.”

Imogen turned back to the girl on the floor. Her tone stayed gentle, but there was winter in it. “Listen to me, Scarlett of Oshea. Refusal is unwise. Winter’s wrath is not a thing that shouts. It simply ends you.” She held Scarlett’s eyes. “Some hungers are safer fed than fought.”

Tears burned behind Scarlett’s eyes. She held Imogen’s gaze for one heartbeat longer. Then the Luna waved a hand, as if brushing the moment away, and Jada stepped forward to usher the four Omegas toward the ivory doors. Scarlett limped out, her calf throbbing under the linen, her silver braid swaying, her honey-brown eyes burning with fury she dared not let fall.

The doors thudded shut behind them and Imogen sank back into her cushions, stroking the restless curve of her belly. The softness had left her voice.

“Odessa. When did we last send a woman to warm Winter’s bed?”

“Weeks, Luna.” Odessa’s braid slipped over her shoulder as she bowed. “Nearly a month.”

Imogen’s pale eyes glinted. “Too long. He grows restless. I can feel it even from here.” She closed her eyes. “Arrange it. Tonight.”

Odessa dipped into a fluid bow, and a slow smile curled across her mouth like smoke. She was already seeing that unbowed stare, that refusal to flinch, that proud silver head held high. The girl was too spirited for chains alone to break. She needed a lesson. And who better to teach it than the Alpha himself?

Tonight, the silver-haired Omega would be sent to his chambers. By morning, she would know the true cost of defiance in Dravonia.