Distant Silver Eyes

Hannah’s POV

Today is not different from any other day. I've been working all day, I only took a short break to have my first meal of the day around noon and the rest of the day passed in the familiar blur of exhaustion and routine. After finishing the basement floors, I was moved upstairs to help sort laundry in the main service wing. 

My hands moved automatically, folding crisp shirts that belonged to wolves who never once looked me in the eye while my mind wandered to the one person whose presence seemed to loom over everything, Alpha Aron Krest. Even the mere thought of his name sent a quiet ripple of fear through my chest.

I could count on one hand the number of times I had actually seen him since the Crescenthood pack brought me here eight years ago. Five times. That was it.

The first was the day they rescued me from the ruins. I had been delirious with fear and blood loss, but I remembered a tall, massive figure with silver eyes cutting through the smoke like a blade. He hadn’t spoken to me. He had simply nodded once to the enforcer carrying me, and that was all.

The second time was during a pack gathering in the courtyard about two years later. I had been scrubbing the fountain edges when I caught a glimpse of him on the balcony above, his broad shoulders, dark skin with that faint reddish undertone, there was a black mark like a tattoo crawling up around his neck like something alive. 

He had been speaking to beta Declan, his voice low and commanding, and even from a distance the air around him felt heavier. 

The third and fourth times were brief flashes during full moon ceremonies which I was never allowed to attend, I’m only there to clean up afterward. 

Each sighting was from afar and he looked formidable and untouchable each time.

The fifth time was six months ago in the corridor leading to the executive wing. He had been walking with Dr. Nair, the pack doctor,  his jaw tight and his movements rigid as if every step hurt. Our eyes had almost met for half a second before I dropped my gaze to the floor like the invisible omega I was trained to be. 

That single near-glance had left my heart hammering for hours. I feared him. Not in the loud, screaming way people fear monsters in movies, but in a quiet way that made me feel uneasy deep inside.

They called him the Cursed Alpha for good reason. Rumors spread like poison through the kitchens and laundry rooms, how he had torn through entire floors of the pack house during his rages, how his wolf was fractured and unpredictable, how his silver eyes turned pitch black when the pain took over. 

People whispered that he had killed challengers without mercy and that his cruelty was sharpened by eight years of endless suffering. They said he built his empire both the pack and Krest Enterprises on fear because fear was the only thing that still made sense to his broken beast.

And yet… there were other whispers too. That the pack was desperate to help him. That his crisis periods were getting worse, especially with the blood moon approaching. 

I had overheard bits and pieces in the kitchens, people talking about old scrolls and about a witch who started the whole chaos, 

talk of ancient scrolls, desperate measures, doctors working around the clock. Lena had once said something about the Alpha being in trouble and the pack would do anything to save him. 

I didn’t know what to believe. All I knew was that a man like Aron Krest was dangerous to someone like me. A wolfless omega with no value. If his curse made him unpredictable, then the safest thing was to stay far away, by being nvisible which is exactly what I had been doing.

By the time my shift ended, my entire body ached in that familiar, dull way. I slipped through the back corridors, avoiding the main halls where higher ranks might still be moving about. My narrow room which is more of a little converted storage closet at the lowest residential level, waited for me like it always did. 

The door creaked as I pushed it open. A thin mattress on a metal bunk, one blanket, a small shelf with my few belongings, and the loose floorboard hiding my escape money.

I peeled off my work clothes, washed my face in the tiny shared sink down the hall, and crawled onto the bunk. The mattress was hard, the room was cold but at least it was mine. I curled up, pulling the thin blanket over my shoulders, and closed my eyes.

Sleep came faster than usual tonight, must be due to exhaustion and stress i had been through all day.

And suddenly,I was back in the hills outside the city, the air smelling of pine and earth. Mara stood before me, her face soft but serious, the way she used to look whenever she was teaching me something important.

“Hannah,” she whispered, her voice warm like smoke. “Hannah, my little spark. It’s almost time.”

I reached for her, tears stinging my eyes, but she was already fading into mist, repeating my name like a gentle warning and a promise all at once.

“Hannah… Hannah…”

I woke up with a sharp jolt, drenched in sweats and tears. It felt so real. Over the years Mara does appear in my dreams once in a while but for the past few months I’ve been seeing her more frequently and each time it seems she’s trying to tell me something or warn me about something.

The dream lingered even as the first hints of dawn crept toward the narrow window, leaving me unsettled, heart racing with something I couldn’t name hope, fear, or the stirrings of a power I had long believed dead inside me.

I kept turning around thinking about the dream and what exactly it means but due to exhaustion I slipped off into a dreamless slumber.