CHAPTER 3: ORPHANED SLAVE

Selene’s hands trembled as she scrubbed the worn-out sofa. The fabric was stiff from years of use; the dust caked deep into its fibres.

Each of her rags seemed to leave behind more grime than it removed, but she didn’t dare stop. She couldn’t afford to. Not with the heavy weight of eyes always watching, judging her every move.

This was her punishment from Alpha for slapping a pack member, a humiliating reminder of her place as a servant in the silver moon pack. The whispers and smirks from those passing by only fueled her anger, but she gritted her teeth and pressed harder, scrubbing with a ferocity that matched the storm raging in her chest.

A sharp sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, heavy and deliberate. Upon hearing this, Selene's heart skipped for a moment, her breath catching her throat. She wiped her forehead quickly with the back of her sleeves, feeling the dampness from the day's heavy heart.

It wasn't just the sun's warmth that made her sweat, it was the continuous fear of never being enough, of always being the unseen servant, the poor orphan who didn't belong in the pack.

Selene! Are you done?” A voice, cold and clipped, sliced through the air. It was Seraphina. Selene could almost hear the sneer in her tone, even though it wasn’t visible in her words. Seraphina has a way of making every question sound like an accusation.

Selene straightened, hastily wiping her hands on her apron. “No, ma’am. I still have a few steps to go,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. Her chest tightened as she spoke.

The harshness of the words, the pressure in her voice, it all felt like too much. But she couldn’t let it show. Not now.

Seraphina’s gaze lingered on her, cold and piercing. Selene forced herself to keep her eyes low, afraid that even a glance might be seen as defiance .

She had learned long ago that any form of resistance was met with disdain, or worse, punishment.

“Make sure it's done before Alpha returns,” Seraphina snapped, turning on her heel without waiting for a response. Her footsteps faded down the hall, leaving Selene alone in the silence again.

Selene exhaled slowly, the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding escaping in a rush. She forced her hands to continue their work, even though they were sore and raw from hours of cleaning.

Her fingers ached and her skin cracked and reddened from distant scrubbing. But she couldn’t stop.

She couldn’t afford to rest, not when every corner of the packhouse needed her attention, every task a silent reminder of her place. She had never known anything different.

The silence that followed Seraphina’s departure felt suffocating. Selene could hear the quiet hum of the distant wolves, the pack members, who passed through their days with little regard for her existence. They didn’t see her, not really.

She was just an orphan girl, the one who was always in the background, always cleaning up after them. They never asked how she felt, never inquired about her thoughts. Selene had long since stopped expecting anything different.

As the evening sun began to dip behind the mountains, the shadow grew longer, and the house grew colder, the chores were endless.

She had cleaned every room, organized the dens, and polished the floors and still, the work seemed to multiply, as if it will never be enough to satisfy them.

The sting of loneliness gnawed at her, but she waved it off. There was no time for self pity or grief. It wasn't just the work that weighed on her, it was the continuous feeling of being nothing.

She wasn’t part of the pack. She wasn’t a member. She was a shadow, an echo of what could have been and she only tolerated her because of Alpha’s orders.

Her heart ached for something more, but she had long ago learned that yearning only made the pain worse. So she buried it deep inside, allowing only the numbness to remain. It was easier that way, easier than wishing for something that could never be.

Selene let out a quiet sigh, her head dropping in exhaustion, her body felt like lead, every muscle sore from the unending labor.

But as the minute ticked by, the thought of retreating to her tiny, cold room tugged at her, she had nowhere else to go, nothing else to do. There was no escape from the confines of the Silver Moon pack. 

Her fingers brushed against the cloth of the sofa, the worn fabric soft under her touch. For a moment the room seemed to blur around her, the weight of everything pressing in on her chest, it wasn’t just the physical exhaustion. It was the emotional toll of being invisible.

The days blended together, one long stretch of endless chore and unspoken expectations

She wanted to scream, to run, to breakfree from the pack that enslaved her, that stole her future before she even knew it was hers. But those thoughts, like all the others, were quickly crushed. Selene knew better.

The pack didn’t tolerate weakness. She had to be strong or at least appear to be. She had to keep her head down and endure because that was all she had left.

Footsteps approached again, heavier this time. Selene straightened immediately. Instinctively, her heart quickened, it was him, Alpha, Damian Stormcrest.

Alpha never needed to announce his presence, his mere footsteps were enough to send the ripple of tension through the pack. Selene could feel his presence even before he entered the room, the air shifted around him, thick with authority. 

She didn't dare to raise her head as he stopped in front of her. She could feel his gaze like a manual force.

“Are you done?” His voice was low and commanding, it made her stomach tighten.

She swallowed really hard, her throat very dry. “Almost Alpha,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Damian's piercing gaze bore into her, his tone laced with cold authority. “Selene, you must know your place” he said, his voice low but sharp like a blade. “You are only here because of my mercy, not because you earned it.”

Selene's numbed fingers clenched the rag in her hands, her knuckle already white. She dared not to meet Alpha's eyes, fearing the fury that lay within them. “Yes Alpha” she murmured, forcing the words past her throat, her pride shrinking under the heavy weight of his presence.

His gaze lingered on her for a while, but he said nothing. He didn't have to. There was no need for words between them. He was Alpha and she was nothing. She was a tool, an instrument, and her only purpose was to serve him and the pack.

The silence stretched on suffocating, until he finally turned and walked away. Selene could feel the chill of his absence as if the warmth had been drained from the room.

But as the door closed behind him, Selene gave herself a moment of heavy breath. She was alone, for just a moment and it felt like the world had quieted, if only for a second.

But she knew better. The quiet wouldn’t last. The work would always return and with it, the relentless reminder that she was still, and would always be nothing more than the orphaned slave of the Silver Moon pack.