WHO?

MAYA

The house had finally settled into a quiet, peaceful rhythm, the kind of stillness that felt almost strange after the storm we had been through.

With Clara and her grandmother gone, Maria felt completely defeated. The endless sexual harassment and uncomfortable remarks that used to plague my days had finally stopped. It was as if Maria knew her grip on the pack house was slipping through her fingers. On top of that, a quiet miracle had occurred—I felt clean, pure, and whole again, a transformation that happened so softly I hadn't even realized when it took place until the heavy shadow over my soul was gone.

Maria, however, still couldn't stomach my presence. She still called me "the maid" whenever we crossed paths in the hallway, but now she bittered her words, always adding that I was the low-life who had stolen her husband, Alpha Edward. I didn't care about her insults anymore. Her words were just empty noise in a house that was slowly healing.

Yet, odd things were happening around us.

The broken picture frame from the hallway was gone, cleared away entirely. And then my book—a quiet, personal book I always kept near my bedside table—had simply vanished into thin air. I searched every drawer and corner of the room, but it was gone, as if the house itself had swallowed it whole.

I tried not to dwell on missing things, because Edward and I were finally rebuilding our bond. Every moment with him felt intense, magnetic, and deeper than ever before.

One evening, after the pack house had fallen asleep, Edward pulled me into our room, locking the door behind us. The air between us was charged with a sudden, suffocating heat. He pulled me close, his heavy arms wrapping around my waist, his warm breath fanning across my neck as his lips traced a trail of fire down my collarbone.

When he carried me to the bed, everything else in the world dissolved.

The lovemaking was fierce, passionate, and completely overwhelming. The moment he came into me, a shiver ran down my entire spine. His thrusts were fast, furious, and so deeply rhythmized that I found myself gasping for air, clutching at the soft fabric of the bedsheets. The pleasure was completely out of this world, crashing over me in wave after powerful wave.

I buried my face in his chest, losing total control as my mind spun in ecstasy. In the back of my mind, through the haze of sheer bliss, I couldn't help but wonder—did he go for extra training on lovemaking or something? Because what we were experiencing right now felt beyond human, beyond anything we had ever shared. It was raw, intoxicating, and completely consumed my senses.

My fingers dug into his muscular shoulders as he moved inside me, the heat coil tightening in my lower stomach until I screamed his name into the quiet room.

Then, at the absolute peak of the intensity, everything abruptly stopped.

Before I could even process what was happening, Edward gasped, grabbing my shoulders, and violently pushed me away from him.

The sudden separation made me shiver as the cold night air hit my bare skin. I tumbled backward against the pillows, my heart hammering wildly against my ribs, my breath coming out in ragged, uneven hitches.

"Edward?" I whispered, looking up at him through the dim moonlight streaming through the window.

He was standing over me, his broad chest heaving up and down. But when I looked at his face, my breath caught in my throat. His features were twisted in shock and confusion, and his eyes—his beautiful amber eyes—were glowing a vivid, terrifying red.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice thick, rough, and trembling with a strange, dark intensity.

I blinked, thoroughly confused, trying to cover my chest with the blanket. "Maya... Maya is my name," I replied softly, my voice shaking from the sudden shift in atmosphere.

"I did NOT ask your name!" Edward roared, his voice echoing off the stone walls so loudly it made the windowpanes vibrate. He stepped closer, his red eyes blazing down at me in the dark. "I said, WHO ARE YOU?"