Knowing the Alphas.

Aria’s POV

For the rest of the night, sleep was a stranger to me. Not once did my eyes close. The memory of Lucien’s hands around my throat had me in a vise, stealing my breath long after his grip was gone. My mind wouldn’t stop racing, spinning through all the different endings that might have played out if Jarl hadn’t walked in at that exact moment.

A sob tore through me, loud in the silence of my room. I hissed, furious with myself, and swiped at the hot tears streaming down my cheeks. It was useless. More came, relentless, slipping past my defenses no matter how often I wiped them away.

How had I ended up in this mess? My life—my very existence—was dangling by a thread, entangled in secrets I didn’t understand. My heart ached as my thoughts drifted to Ella, my adopted mother. Was she coping? Did she think I’d abandoned her willingly, or could she somehow tell I’d been taken? Who would help her carry firewood now? Who would walk with her to the market?

How was I supposed to survive here, among these strangers, without her?

Ella had taken me in when I was barely three years old. She said I had been left on her doorstep with nothing but my name. She’d gone to the police, desperate for answers, but no one reported a missing child. With no other choice, she made me her own. That was the only story I knew of my life. I never pressed her for more—there wasn’t more to give. We were simply… family. That had been enough.

Now, that fragile life was shattered, and I was being forced into one I didn’t recognize.

Sunlight streamed through the window, startling me. Birds chirped outside, oblivious to the storm inside my chest. I blinked in disbelief. The night had disappeared, stolen by endless brooding. With a shaky breath, I pushed myself from the bed. If I wanted to survive here—if I wanted even a shred of leverage—I needed to learn about them. Every secret. Every weakness. Especially after what happened with Lucien. That could never happen again.

I slipped into a dress from the wardrobe. The fabric was thin, too delicate for my liking, but I ignored the discomfort. Gathering my courage, I stepped into the hall. I half-expected one of the Alphas to be standing guard outside my door, but it was empty. My pulse quickened. This was my chance.

I slipped through the corridors, careful, quiet, until the house gave way to the brightness of morning. Outside, a group of women worked together, gossiping as their hands sifted through grains still in their husks. I drew closer, blending in, pretending I belonged.

One woman gave me a sharp, suspicious look but dismissed me with a snort. I bent down, mimicking their motions. Five minutes passed in silence. No one questioned me. My courage swelled, and I finally spoke.

“So, Alpha Kael is the nice one, yeah?”

The moment the words left my mouth, regret surged. I had meant to sound casual, to spark conversation. Instead, it came out as a clumsy question. Their chatter died instantly. Every pair of eyes turned toward me, unblinking, heavy.

I forced a shrug, feigning indifference.

“Alpha Kael is certainly nice, Luna-to-be,” one woman said carefully, “but don’t think that means he’s a man you can toy with.”

I froze. The word caught me. Luna-to-be.

“My name is Aria,” I corrected, frowning.

The group burst into laughter, loud and sharp. I stared at them, at myself, utterly lost.

“Luna means the mate of an Alpha,” another woman explained between chuckles. “That’s why she called you that.”

I blinked. “Like a… wife-to-be?”

The first woman, the one who’d dismissed me earlier, smirked and nodded.

“Oh.” I tried to sound casual, though unease prickled beneath my skin. “But I’m not anybody’s wife.”

“You reek of them, Luna,” another replied. Her tone was final, confident. “We werewolves are never wrong about mates.”

I discreetly sniffed at myself. All I smelled was the faint ointment I’d rubbed across my arms and neck.

“Can you tell me about them?” My voice wavered, my plea almost breaking into tears.

“They’re all Alphas,” one said, “but each with a role that keeps balance in our pack.”

The older woman—her back straighter, her voice more commanding—nodded. “Alpha Kael is the figurehead. Sweet, yes. But don’t let that fool you. He gets whatever he wants. No one questions him. Ever.”

Sweet and dangerous. Two words that didn’t belong together. I said nothing, only nodded.

“When you think of Alpha Lucien,” she went on, her voice dipping lower, “think of the most dangerous man you’ll ever meet.”

My throat tightened at the memory of his hand crushing my windpipe.

“But he carries the heaviest burden. Cleaning up the pack’s messes. Killing when no one else will. That’s his life. It’s all he’s useful for.” She shuddered.

I swallowed hard and nodded again.

“Alpha Darius is our Battle Alpha. He trains the warriors, leads from the front. Quiet. He only speaks when it matters. Of all of them, he’s the only one without a dark side.”

Darius. The silent one. My mind drifted back to the night of my abduction—how he lingered in the shadows, watchful, barely existing.

“Our healer is Alpha Evren,” another chimed in. “He spends hours in his realm, barely shows his face. Be careful, though. His power is… alluring. Too alluring.”

“And then there’s Alpha Rian,” the older woman said. “The diplomat. Think of him as second-in-command.”

“He’s so charming,” a younger woman sighed dreamily.

“But insecure,” the older one cut in.

“Insecure?” I asked, startled.

She nodded. “He was hated most by the late Alpha. Rumor says his mother abandoned him. It scarred him. Now, he charms and charms, desperate for approval—afraid you’ll reject him before you get the chance.”

My brows furrowed. “Wait. What do you mean by his mother? Aren’t they all brothers?”

The women stiffened, their faces shuttering. I could almost hear their thoughts—we’ve said too much.

“Well,” the older woman whispered at last, “they share the same father. But different mothers. They didn’t even know each other until ten years ago… when the prophecy came.”

Her words slipped out, and then her eyes went wide. She slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Prophecy?” I repeated, my voice sharp.

“Forget I said anything, Luna,” she whispered quickly, glancing around. “Please.”

“You have to tell me,” I pressed, desperation edging into my voice.

A throat cleared behind us.

Every woman froze.

So did I.