The Lady in the Shadows

Damon saw her again immediately as he stepped into the light.

She was standing under the giant willow tree as always, a silhouette hidden from the light… but radiant and elegant as always. Despite being in the shadows, the darkness could not conceal the divine aura that clung to her presence… a sacred stillness that seemed untouched by time itself.

By her side also was the same silver wolf, staring at him with cold celestial eyes that made his blood run cold. It wasn’t just the beast’s beauty or size—it was the way it watched. As though it knew more than any living creature should, as though it judged him not as a man, but as something far lesser.

He had never seen her face, nor had he heard her voice. But he was very certain that she was the most perfect being on the face of the earth, and her voice… though never heard, was without a doubt, that of a goddess.

She was always there. Always silent. As if waiting for someone who was still yet to come.

But he could feel it was him. Somehow, in a place deeper than thought, deeper than reason, he knew… he was the one she was always waiting for. The one who never comes. The one always too late.

But today… it was going to change.

She had to be the answer to the prophecy. She had to be the one he had been searching for all these years. And he was going to find out who she was today. No more lingering doubts, no more shadows in his heart.

He hurried toward her… desperate, eager to end the suspense that had been going on for far too long. But the faster he walked, the more the distance seemed to increase. The willow swayed slowly, and the wolf watched. His breath quickened. Soon, he was running, sprinting toward her like a man chasing the last hope he’d ever have.

And she was getting farther out of reach.

“Wait!” he called in desperation, reaching out his hand as he ran. “Wait… just let me see you only this once… please!"

His voice echoed, desperate and pleading, but swallowed by the growing mist around them.

The sound of his alarm clock shattered the dream and dragged Damon back to reality.

His eyes flew open, wide and furious. He was panting heavily, and his entire body was soaked in sweat. The nightmare of waking hit him harder than any blow he had ever taken in real life.

The alarm rang again before he could recollect his thoughts, screaming its annoying noise into his skull. He grabbed it in a fit of rage and flung it across the room with the strength of a wild bear, sending it flying straight into the wall close to his bedroom door.

“Good morning, sir,” his assistant Jessica greeted, a bit shaken after narrowly being missed by the alarm clock.

“Sir, you asked me to remind you about the Shadow Pack trip.”

Damon let out a long, frustrated sigh and crawled out of the bed, stretching his massive well toned body. “I'm sorry about that, Jessica. I just had that dream again.”

“The same one?” she asked softly, finally getting a hold of herself and adjusting her glasses.

“Every night for five years,” he muttered, rubbing his face. “Every damn night, and I still can't see her face.”

He moved over to his closet and began rummaging through it, shoving hangers aside as if they offended him. He knew exactly what he wanted to wear, and he wasn’t going to tolerate fumbling around for it.

There was something about that dream that constantly left him troubled in a way he couldn’t even understand. The woman wasn’t just an illusion. She wasn’t just a figment of fantasy born of lonely nights and tortured longing. She was a prophecy: one given to him by the Seers a long time ago.

The Seers had sworn she existed. Sworn it on their blood and bones. She was the only one destined to carry his heir, and the only one who could complete his bond as his chosen mate. The woman of shadows. The goddess of silence.

But every attempt to find her had ended in failure. He already had two mates, but neither was the one… And neither had been able to conceive for years.

Nyla? Too deadly, despite her outstanding beauty.

Lucia? Too clever and manipulative for her own good.

Only the woman in the dream… silent, radiant, and yet unreachable could stir his wolf. Only she could make it howl. Only she could awaken something ancient in him, something that Nyla and Lucia had never touched.

He handed Jessica a bunch of clothes, and she quickly disappeared to get them sorted and packed in time for the trip to the Shadow Pack. She was wise enough not to linger too long or ask too many questions… especially after his awakening from a dream that always left his temper in a fragile state.

A guard in the doorway wasn’t so lucky.

“What are you staring at?” Damon growled, stepping forward like a predator scenting weakness.

The guard stiffened, caught like a deer in headlights. “N-Nothing, Alpha…”

Damon's fist had already connected with the young man's face before he could even finish defending himself, sending him flying a few feet away, landing hard against the wall.

“The next time you dare look into your Alpha’s eyes without being invited will be the last time you draw breath,” he said calmly, as if nothing had just happened… As if violence was a mere routine.

The guard was whimpering on the ground, holding his bloody nose in fear, and possibly regretting every life choice that had led to this moment.

“And don’t you dare soil my floor with your dirty blood,” Damon muttered coldly as he stepped over the man and made his way downstairs to have his breakfast.

He was restless.

And so was his wolf.

The dream haunted him… just as much as the nightmare he also experienced regularly after that dark incident in his youth. The one he refused to speak of. The one no one dared bring up.

Something in his mind told him that finding this mysterious mate would actually bring him peace…

And he would find her…or burn every worthless pack in the region trying.

…

A few hours later, his convoy finally arrived at the Shadow Pack estate. One of the many packs that depended on him for protection. For survival. For the chance to exist beneath the fragile veil of his mercy.

Damon stepped out of his vehicle with the rugged confidence of an accomplished Alpha, with the aura of dominance emanating from him like a powerful cologne as his guards hurried to flank him.

He was the supreme overlord of his kind in the city of Bloomington. And everyone knew it.

Alpha Jacob Kane, a tall and aging man trying hard to mask his desperation behind a shaky smile, hurried forward with his elders following behind like frightened pups. He was sweating despite the cool morning breeze.

“Alpha Damon,” he greeted, bowing low to show his loyalty. “We are truly honored to have you here as our guest. Your protection has meant everything to our pack and its survival.”

Damon only nodded briefly, not even bothering to stop or fully acknowledge Kane and his elders. His cold eyes swept over them like the winter wind.

“Where is the meeting room?”

“Yes… of course. Right this way my lord,” Kane stammered, pointing frantically to a low building and practically jogging to keep up with his still moving sovereign.

Damon didn’t wait.

He never waited.

And the Shadow Pack knew better than to make him.