The Alpha Quintuplets' Guardian Luna

"Come to me," calls a voice in my dreams.

"Why?"

"Because I have the answers you seek," calls the voice again.

“How is that possible?”

“Because I know who you are and who you were meant to come, your coming of age is coming, and you need to be ready. The path before you may be rocky, but you will need to be strong for what is yet to come,” came the voice again.

I tried to focus on the voice, to see through the haze of sleep that clouded my vision. "Who are you?" I whispered into the darkness, my heart pounding against my ribs like a caged bird.

The silence stretched between us, heavy and expectant. When the voice came again, it seemed closer somehow, as if the speaker had moved through the shadows of my dream to stand beside me.

"I am what you will become," it said, and I felt a chill run down my spine. "But first, you must remember what you have forgotten."

"I don't understand." My hands trembled as I reached out, grasping at nothing but empty air. "Remember what?"

"The night your mother died. The night everything changed. The night you first heard the calling."

My breath caught in my throat. I had been seven years old when she passed, and the memories of that time were fragmented, buried deep beneath years of trying to forget. But now, in this strange dream-space, I could feel them stirring like sediment at the bottom of a disturbed pond.

"No," I said, backing away from the voice. "I don't want to remember."

I awake with a start in my bedroom of the servant quarters of the pack house.

“Shit, why do I need to remember that I was once an Alpha’s daughter, that they all died, and I was the only one left? Why can’t I just live out my life peacefully as a nobody?” I ask, knowing all too well that the darkness would have no answers.

The clock on my bedside table said 5:20 am. ‘Great, might as well get up and start making breakfast.’ I notice the date even better, my 18th birthday is in two days, well, at least then I can leave this pack. I swing my legs off my bed to stand up and get ready so I can make the pack breakfast before heading to school.

I pulled on my worn jeans and the faded t-shirt I'd been wearing to cook in for the past year. The fabric was soft from too many washings, but it was clean, and that's all that mattered when you were invisible to everyone around you.

The dream clung to me like cobwebs as I padded barefoot down the cold hallway toward the kitchen. My mother's face flickered at the edges of my memory, not the peaceful woman I'd trained myself to remember, but someone fierce and urgent, her eyes wide with fear as she pressed something into my small hands. What had she given me? The harder I tried to grasp the memory, the more it slipped away from me.

I flicked on the industrial lights in the pack house kitchen, squinting as the harsh fluorescents buzzed to life. Forty-three pack members would expect breakfast in exactly two hours, and Alpha Marcus would have my head if the coffee weren’t strong enough or if I burned the bacon again like last Tuesday.

As I measured out coffee grounds, my hands moved automatically through the familiar routine, but my mind was elsewhere. Two more days. Just two more days until I turn eighteen and can finally submit my transfer request to the Council. They couldn't legally keep me here once I came of age, not without my consent.

The dream voice echoed in my head: *Your coming of age is coming.* A shiver ran through me that had nothing to do with the cold kitchen tiles beneath my feet.

That’s when I heard them, Declan, Seth, Francis, Nelson and Peter, the Alpha heir quintuplets destined to run the pack as one, they compete at everything, including making out that my existence here is I actually don’t know a pain to them, I guess. If only they knew my father, an Alpha in his own right, lost his life saving theirs, but I’ve never said a word, why should I? It makes no difference now.

“Well, well, what is that smell?” Peter drawls.

I say nothing and keep making the pancakes and cooking the bacon. At the same time, I keep my eyes downcast.

"Nothing worthy of your attention," I muttered, flipping a pancake with more force than necessary. The batter sizzled loudly against the hot griddle.

"Didn't ask you to speak, little mutt." Peter's voice carried that familiar edge of cruelty. I could feel his eyes boring into the back of my head, but I kept my focus on the task at hand. Don't engage. Don't look up. Don't give them anything.

"Leave it, Peter." The quiet voice belonged to Seth, the youngest of the five. "We're going to be late for training if we don't hurry."

I risked a glance up through my lashes. Seth stood slightly apart from his brothers, his auburn hair still mussed from sleep. When our eyes met briefly, he looked away first.

Declan stepped forward, his imposing frame blocking the light. "The runt's right for once. We don't have time for distractions." His gaze swept over me, cold and dismissive. "Though I'm not sure why Father keeps you around. The food is barely edible."

I bit my tongue until I tasted copper. Two more days. Just two more days, and I'd never have to see any of their faces again.

"Maybe she has other uses," Francis suggested with a smirk that made my skin crawl. "Hidden talents we don't know about."

Nelson laughed, the sound harsh and grating. "What could she possibly be good for?"

I stacked pancakes onto a serving plate, my movements mechanical and practised. My wolf stirred inside me, bristling at their mockery. I pushed her down, locked her away as I'd learned to do years ago. Showing my strength now would only put my plans at risk.

"Enough," Declan said sharply. "Get your food and go. Father expects us at the boundary lines in twenty minutes."