Chapter 5: Dawn Comes Too Soon

POV: Sierra

They came for me at sunrise. I'm still awake, staring at the water-stained ceiling. This could be the morning I die.

The lock clicks open. That sound, hard and final, means someone's getting dragged out and never coming back. It's like a death rattle. The door slams wide, and two guards fill the frame. Alphas, both of them, are broad enough to swallow the morning light. Carter enjoys dragging servants away.

"Daniels. Up. Now."

I don't argue. Arguments earn you a beating before a bullet, and I'd rather skip the first part. The other women don't move. They've learned the same lesson I have. Stay invisible. Act deaf. Don't care about anything that doesn't threaten you directly. It's cruel, but it keeps us alive.

I slid out of the bunk, still wearing yesterday's uniform. My hands stay steady as I slip into my old canvas shoes. Three years of waiting for this moment, and all I've managed to do is stop being surprised by it. 

"Relax, Carter." Carter is already losing patience. "Let's go."

I lower my head, round my shoulders, and follow them. The don't-see-me posture, perfected over a thousand anxious mornings. We move through corridors I know better than my own reflection. Past industrial washers that thunder day and night. Then, instead of turning toward the execution rooms, we head for the elevators serving the upper floors. We go up.

This isn't the elevator I know. The doors gleam like polished chrome, and the interior glows beneath soft, expensive lighting. My stomach tightens with every floor we pass. Past the fighters' levels. Past administration. Into parts of the building I've never seen.

When the doors slide open, cold air brushes across my skin before the smell reaches me. Antiseptic laced with something rich and sweet, almost like honey. Medical territory.

It doesn't make sense. They don't bring people here to execute them. They fix them. Study them. Or take what they want before throwing the rest away. Carter drives me forward with a shove between my shoulder blades.

"Keep moving."

We stop outside a door fitted with a palm scanner. The second guard presses his hand against the reader, and another lock snaps open.

Inside, the room resembles a surgical suite that has never seen a patient. The walls are lined with machines I don't recognize, polished monitors, clear tubing, and equipment so new it barely looks touched. At the center sits a narrow examination table fitted with heavy restraints.

Beside it stands a doctor in his late forties, his white coat crisp enough to cut glass. Gray streaks touch his temples beneath neatly combed hair, wire-rimmed glasses resting low on his nose. His expression is as blank as the walls surrounding him. He glances up from the tablet in his hands.

"Miss Daniels. Thank you for joining us. I'm Dr. Landon Hayes." His voice is polished, calm, and almost pleasant. "Please, have a seat on the table."

I don't move. Carter's hand clamps onto my shoulder, his fingers digging into muscle. "The doctor gave you an instruction."

Dr. Hayes steps forward without the slightest hint of urgency. "Relax, Carter." A faint smile touches his mouth without warming his face. "It's a routine examination."

My gaze sweeps the room. Two guards. One door. No windows. Before anyone catches me studying the room, I lower my eyes and climb onto the table without another word. If they believed I was obedient, they might stop looking quite so closely.

"Excellent. Now, if you lie back and place your wrists inside the restraints," I manage to force out a whisper. "Why?"

"Standard protocol. For your safety and ours." Refusing would only end with someone pinning me down anyway, and I wanted to hold onto whatever dignity I had left.

I lie back, and the restraints snap shut around my wrists. Dr. Hayes straps down my ankles until even shifting becomes impossible. My wolf stirs beneath the walls I've spent years building around her. She hates being trapped.

"Let's begin," Dr. Hayes says as he wheels over a tray of gleaming instruments sharp enough to belong in a torture chamber instead of a medical suite. The next twenty minutes blur together. Needles draw blood. Electrodes cling to my skin. A scanner glides across my chest while machines hum around me.

Dr. Hayes studies the first readings without speaking. A crease forms between his brows. He repeats the test, then reaches for another scanner. Whatever he expected to find, it wasn't me. 

"Fascinating," he murmurs, eyes fixed on the display. "These suppression markers are remarkable. You've kept your wolf dormant for years. Deliberately, if I'm interpreting this correctly." He studies the results another moment. "That shouldn't be possible."

I can't answer. Fear has locked every word inside my throat.

"But beneath all that, the markers are unmistakable." Dr. Hayes leans closer, his clinical restraint giving way to open fascination. "Alpha strength. Luna class. And something else. Something you don't find in ordinary servants."

He scrolls through the remaining results. "Royal bloodline. Dormant, but unmistakable. Knox was right." My heartbeat falters. "You're not just any Luna. You're descended from the old monarchy. The genetic markers couldn't be clearer."

No. He had to be wrong. I'm nobody. Just a servant. Not some forgotten heir.

"This changes everything," Dr. Hayes says, almost to himself. "The possibilities alone... the breeding potential... the black-market value..."

Breeding. The word hits harder than the restraints ever could.

"I think we've seen enough, Doctor." Knox Ashford stands in the doorway, commanding the room without raising his voice. Up close, he's even more terrifying. I have never been more afraid.

"You've been hiding in plain sight, little Luna," Knox says as he approaches the table. "Three years cleaning my arena, and I never realized I was sitting on a goldmine."

"I don't know what you're talking about." My voice barely trembles.

"Your blood does." His smile remains cool and measured. "Soon everyone else will."

At the slightest nod from Knox, Dr. Hayes releases the restraints. Blood surges painfully back into my wrists. My ankles ache as I swing my legs over the edge of the table, but Knox stands between me and the only exit while the guards close ranks behind him.

"Sit up, please," Knox says. "We have a great deal to discuss. " I push myself upright, every muscle protesting. My wolf is fully awake now, pacing beneath my skin. She wants out. She wants to fight. 

"You're far more valuable than I realized," Knox says with the calm certainty of a man who has already decided my future. "Royal blood. An unclaimed Luna. Alpha power locked away for years. Do you have any idea how rare that makes you?"

"I'm just a servant."

"Was a servant," his smile sharpens. "Now you're my newest investment, and that royal blood of yours is going to be exceptionally profitable."

A deep growl rolled through the floor beneath my feet, powerful enough to make the instruments on Dr. Hayes's tray rattle.

Dr. Hayes looked sharply toward the door. Knox didn't so much as blink. The corners of Knox's mouth lifted. 

"He's found her."