Lost

What is your name, girl?” the woman demanded, her tone sharp and authoritative.

Lyra met the gaze of Delilah, the Luna of the pack, and couldn’t help but marvel at how someone so fierce could hold such a title. With her sylph-like stature and siren eyes that seemed to pierce through to one’s very soul, Delilah exuded an intimidating presence.

“Lyra,” she replied softly, her heart racing under the weight of the Luna’s scrutiny.

“Lyra,” Delilah repeated, as if savouring the name. “And how old are you?”

“I just turned twenty,” Lyra answered, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Hmmm,” Delilah hummed, tilting her head as her piercing gaze fell to Lyra’s neck, searching for any sign of a mating mark. “You don’t have a mate at this age?”

“No, Luna,” Lyra replied, keeping her head bowed in shame. The silence that followed felt suffocating.

Delilah's gaze sharpened, her lips curling into a sly smile. “You don’t look like much. Are you even worth the trouble of keeping around?”

Lyra felt a shiver run down her spine. “I—I do my best to be helpful,” she stammered, the words barely escaping her lips.

Delilah’s expression didn’t soften. Instead, a sly smile crept across her face. “Helpful? You should consider yourself lucky that you’re still here. Many would have given up on you by now. I mean your family did, and I do not blame them.”

Lyra swallowed hard, her throat tightening. The weight of the Luna’s words pressed down on her, but she forced herself to stand tall. “I’m just trying to find my place,” she managed to say, her voice steadier than she felt.

“Your place?” Delilah laughed, the sound cold and sharp. “You’d be better off in the kitchen, scrubbing floors. That’s where girls like you belong. Now, run along, girl.” Delilah waved her away as if shooing a dog. “Find the rest of your kind in the kitchen. They must have something useful for you to do there.”

Lyra felt her cheeks flush with humiliation as she turned away, eager to leave Delilah’s sight. Her resolve hardened.  If they wanted her to be invisible, she would not give them the satisfaction of knowing how much their words hurt. She would find a way to prove her worth, even if it meant doing it in the shadows. 

As she entered the kitchen, a flurry of activity surrounded her. Some servants moved swiftly, preparing meals while others cleaned up after breakfast. The warmth of the kitchen contrasted sharply with the coldness she had just left behind, but it did little to lift her spirits.

“Hey,” called out a friendly voice. It was one of the kitchen staff, her hands dusted with flour. “You are the new girl, right?

“Yes, I am. Lyra smiled, reciprocating the friendly aura radiating from the girl before her. “My name is Lyra.”

“Mira,” The girl extended her hand for a shake. “How was ‘breakfast’ with the Luna? I heard she can be tough.”

Lyra forced a smile, grateful for a moment of kindness. “It was... fine,” she said, trying to keep her tone light.

“Why are you two standing around idly? Do you not have work to do?” Beatrice, the head servant, appeared in the doorway like a thundercloud, her voice booming with authority. Her presence commanded immediate attention, her stature as imposing as her tone. “Mira, are you done baking the cake?”

“No, ma’am,” Mira replied, her bubbly smile vanishing as she ducked her head, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Then scram!” Beatrice snapped, veins popping out on her neck and forehead as she glared at the young baker. Turning her attention to the now shivering Lyra, she continued, “You, get your ass to the second bedroom upstairs and have it thoroughly cleaned. The Alpha’s son will be returning tomorrow from a treaty trip. It must be spotless, or else the Luna will have your head, while I feast on your remains.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lyra stammered, her heart racing. She hurried up the stairs, grabbing cleaning supplies from the closet as she went. She bumped into two fellow servants scrubbing the floors, and she couldn't help but eavesdrop on their conversation as they spoke about the Alpha’s son.  

“Did you see him when he returned the last time?” The brunette whispered, her eyes wide with excitement.

“Who, the Alpha’s son?” Blondie replied, nodding eagerly. “Yes! I bet he’s now more striking than I remember. That dark wavy hair of his must have grown thicker—it looked like it’s been touched by the sun.”

“Right? And those eyes!” Brunette exclaimed, her voice dropping to a hush. “They’re this deep green, like the forest after a rain. You could drown in them.”

“Oh, they are captivating.” A dreamy smile appeared on the blondie’s face. “And he’s tall—taller than most of the warriors. Broad shoulders, a strong jawline. He carries himself with this confidence, like he knows he belongs anywhere he goes.”

The other girl nodded vigorously. “And when he smiles? It’s like the whole room lights up. You can’t help but feel drawn to him.”

“Exactly!” Brunette replied, her cheeks flushing even more “He has this way of looking at you, like he sees right through to your soul. It’s both thrilling and terrifying.”

“Just imagine if he ever noticed us,” Blondie giggled. “We’d probably faint!”

Lyra listened, her heart racing not just from their words, but from the image they painted. Though she did not know who they conversed about, her gut told her it was Bruno, the Alpha’s son they gossiped about. From what she heard, he sounded like a force of nature—someone who could command attention and admiration effortlessly.

“Do you think he’ll choose a mate this year?” The girls continued talking, drawing Lyra’s attention back to where they were huddled.  

“Who wouldn’t want him? But with his status, he’ll probably go for someone from a prominent family. He deserves the best.” 

The sound of Beatrice’s heavy footsteps sent icy shivers down the back of the gossiping girls, as well as Lyra’s.  The girls stopped talking and resumed their work with vigour. Lyra quickly ran up the stairs before she was caught lacking. 

As she reached the second bedroom, she paused in front of the door, taking a deep breath to steady herself. The room belonged to the Alpha’s son; a figure she had only heard whispers about. Besides what she’d heard a few minutes ago, rumours floated through the pack like leaves in the wind—tales of his charm, strength, and the way he commanded respect without even trying.

Pushing the door open, Lyra stepped inside and was immediately struck by the contrast between the room’s elegance and her own modest existence. She set to work immediately, starting with the bed. As she stripped the linens, she couldn’t help but wonder about the young man who occupied this room. What was he like? Was he as charming as the stories suggested? Did he have a sense of humour, or was he serious like his mother? 

She felt a strange connection to Bruno, and she wondered what dreams he chased as she imagined him reading by the window, lost in a tale of heroism and adventure.