IN MY DARK ROOM

MAYA

It had been two weeks since I stepped through the iron gates of Alpha Edward’s mansion, and every single day had been a slow, grinding torment.

Maria hated my very presence. She couldn't stand the sight of me. Every breath I took seemed to offend her, every move I made filled her with a dark, inexplicable disgust. Even though she had no idea that beneath this smudged, scarred face was the spirit of the woman she had murdered eighteen years ago, her corrupted soul clearly recognized mine. It revolted against me like oil pushing away water.

Because of that hatred, she made sure I was handed the most grueling, backbreaking tasks in the entire estate. While the other servants cleaned rooms or polished silverware in the shade, I was dragged out into the scorching heat to perform labor meant for horses.

"Let Maya clear the overgrown bushes behind the mansion," Maria demanded that morning, her sharp voice echoing across the courtyard as she pointed a manicured finger at me.

The Chief Guard frowned, looking between the dense, thorny thicket and the sky. "Luna Maria, those bushes cover over two acres of hard ground. We usually bring in the tractors and heavy equipment to clear that area."

Maria turned on him instantly, her eyes flashing with cruel authority. "Did I ask for a tractor, Chief Guard? I want her to do it. And I want her to do it all alone!"

The guard swallowed hard, casting a brief look of pity in my direction before bowing his head. "Yes, Luna."

For hours, I worked under the unrelenting sun. The thick thorns ripped through my thin dress, slicing into my arms and shoulders. My hands bled, my back burned with a deep, agonizing ache, and sweat dripped into my eyes, blinding me as I swung a heavy rusty blade against the tough wooden roots. But I didn't stop. I couldn't afford to give her an excuse to whip me or throw me out. I harnessed every ounce of endurance I had built over eighteen years of street survival, swinging that blade until my muscles screamed.

By late afternoon, the entire field was cleared.

I dragged my battered body up to my tiny servant quarter in the attic, barely able to lift my legs. The room was cold and dark, furnished with nothing more than a creaky narrow bed and a single wooden chair near the corner.

I collapsed onto the thin mattress, burying my face in the scratchy pillow as tears of sheer exhaustion and despair finally broke free. Pain throbbed through every inch of my skin, but the agony inside my chest was far worse.

Why did I come back? I wept silently, my body shaking with hollow sobs. What was the point of choosing rebirth if I only returned to be tortured all over again by the very woman who murdered me?

The cruel reality of my situation pressed down on me like a mountain. I was a mere servant—a dirty street rat with no status, no pack, and no power. Maria was a high-ranking Luna. She could snap her fingers and have me executed before sunrise, and not a single soul in this territory would care or ask questions. I was sitting here dreaming of a grand, poetic revenge, but the truth was suffocating: I was helpless. I had no way of destroying her. I couldn't even defend myself against her petty cruelty without risking my life.

My dream of retribution felt like the pathetic delusion of a foolish girl.

"Do not lose heart, my child."

A soft, celestial voice echoed through the dark room, so sweet and powerful that it instantly silenced my crying.

The air in the attic turned cool and sweet, smelling of fresh rain and night-blooming jasmine. A brilliant, soothing silver light began to emanate from the center of the room, slowly coalescing into the divine, shimmering form of the Moon Goddess. Her presence filled the dusty space with an overwhelming warmth that made the sharp sting on my hands and shoulders instantly fade away.

I sat up weakly, wiping the tears from my cheeks as I looked up at her in awe. "Goddess..." I whispered, my voice trembling with raw grief. "I can't do this. I am weak. I am just a servant girl in rags. How can a mere maid hunt powerful wolves like Maria and Alpha Edward? They will crush me before I even make a move."

The Goddess stepped closer, her glowing hand reaching down to gently touch my forehead. A wave of deep, tranquil peace washed through my veins.

"Hang on, Philomena," the Goddess spoke softly, her voice carrying the strength of a thousand oceans. "The gods are with you. Never measure divine justice through the eyes of mortals, for the ways of the gods are vastly different from the ways of wolves. A mighty oak does not fall to a sudden blow, but to the quiet, invisible decay at its roots. Have faith in the path laid before you."

She smiled, her ethereal form slowly dissolving back into a shower of soft silver dust.

As the light faded, a deep, restful weight settled over my eyelids. For the first time in weeks, the heavy knot of anxiety in my chest unraveled. I sank back onto my pillow and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, wrapped in the comforting lingering energy of the divine.

Yet, even as I drifted off, a small part of my logical mind remained skeptical. Goddess or not, I was still just Maya. How could a powerless servant ever bring down an Alpha's empire?

In the middle of the night, the sharp, metallic click of a lock cut through the darkness.

My eyes snapped open instantly. My street-trained instincts flared to life as I sat up in the dark, pulling the thin blanket over my chest.

The heavy door opened slowly, and a tall, imposing figure stepped into my room. The moonlight streaming through the window caught the broad, muscular outline of his frame.

It was Alpha Edward.

My heart hammered wildly against my ribs. "Alpha?" I breathed, my voice barely audible.

Edward didn't answer. He walked across the small room with heavy, deliberate strides, ignoring me completely as he moved toward the solitary wooden chair in the corner. He sat down, leaning back slightly, his dark amber eyes burning into mine through the gloom.

Then, he reached down and unbuckled his belt.

My breath caught in my throat as he shed his trousers, revealing that he was completely naked underneath. His body was broad, scarred, and intimidating. Between his thighs, his heavy, thick length was already fully erect, pulsing with a dark, commanding heat.

Slowly, without breaking eye contact, Edward wrapped his large hand around his shaft and began to stroke himself in slow, heavy rhythms.

"Take off your clothes," Edward ordered, his deep voice carrying a rough, gravelly command that vibrated off the bare stone walls.

Horror and panic surged through my blood like ice water. This was a trap. It had to be. If Maria found out that I was in my bedroom with her naked husband, she wouldn't just yell at me—she would slit my throat where I sat, and no one would stop her. She had murdered me once for standing in her way, and she wouldn't hesitate to do it a second time without a shred of remorse.

Every instinct in my body screamed at me to run. I shifted my legs toward the edge of the bed, preparing to bolt toward the open door, to scream for help, to call for Maria—anything to prove that I was innocent and had no part in this madness.

I took one step forward, my bare feet touching the cold floorboards.

"Don't bother running, little maid."

A sharp, venomous voice dripped from the shadows of the doorway.

I froze mid-step, my head snapping toward the entrance.

Standing in the frame, leaning casually against the doorpost with her arms crossed over her silk robe, was Maria.

Her face wasn't twisted in rage or jealousy. Instead, her eyes were cold, calculated, and terrifyingly detached. She looked at me not as a rival, but as a piece of meat—an object to be bought, used, and discarded.

"Take your clothes off and satisfy the Alpha," Maria said brutally, her voice flat and devoid of any human warmth. "Count yourself lucky, street rat. Tonight, your worthless body actually serves a purpose."

I stood frozen between the two monsters who had stolen my past life—one stroking himself in the dark corner of my room, and the other watching from the doorway with cold, merciless eyes.

The Goddess had said the ways of the gods were different. As I looked at Maria’s cold smile and felt Edward’s dark gaze burning into my skin, the realization hit me like a physical blow:

The trap was sprung, but it wasn't set for me. They had just opened the door to their own ruin.