CHAPTER 4
1248 Words
CHAPTER 4: Adventures of the Pack
Odessa's POV
Who exactly would willingly go against their father? A monster, perhaps a god of war who keeps death in his pocket?
“My daughter,” he says with his voice steady and eyes catching the faint light that filters through the room. “I’m your father, I’ll never hurt you, and you should know that.”
I want to believe him, yet my thoughts are knotted and restless. After everything that happened, doubt lingers around me like a snake, hissing warnings.
I only nod, preferring silence to anything that might betray the unrest inside me.
“Why did you do that?” he asks suddenly with his tone sharp as a blade.
I hesitate with my heart pounding against my ribs. The question is a trap, and I can almost hear Dakota whispering caution in my ear.
I let the weight of his words hang, hoping he’ll reveal more, strike the nail himself and my gaze flickers to the floor, searching for the courage hidden in Dakota’s brilliance.
“I don’t understand, Father,” I answered carefully. “You speak, yet I cannot discern.”
The tension in the room loosens, just a fraction.
Even though Dakota isn’t here, her presence lingers, and I can almost see her lips shaping advice in the air.
“You walked out on me,” he says with a faint edge in his voice. “That was rude.”
Relief slips through me, subtle and fragile. So that’s it. My restraint worked.
I’ve learned to stand beneath pressure without crumbling, and not even Carlos and Jena’s relentless drills compare to moments like these.
“Apologies, Father.” I lower my eyes, letting a shadow of sadness settle over my face.
If sorrow distracts him from the real issue, so be it.
Dakota and I misjudged Bruno, he didn’t betray us, and my heart twists with guilt at how quickly we were to accuse.
I owe him an apology, and so does she.
For the first time, my father’s expression softens, almost remorseful, and it unsettles me. I never imagined I could bend his sternness, yet here it is, fragile as glass.
Guilt crawls into my chest. I should confess and tell him everything, but the words won’t come.
We talk for a while in a rare moment of ease and I can’t remember the last time we spoke like this, free of bitterness.
Maybe Dakota's leaving was a hidden blessing. Without her cleverness to lean on, I’m forced to trust myself.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he says quietly.
A jolt runs through me and the way he says it... gentle but edged with gravity... makes my stomach flutter with unease.
“What is it, Dad?” My voice wavers despite my effort to sound calm.
I try to read his face, to predict his next words, but my thoughts crash against each other and I finally surrender, letting him speak.
“It’s about your birth.”
“My birth?” The words slip out small and almost fade in the air.
“If it’s about Mum,” I rushed on, “Dakota already told me everything.”
His brows lift and then knit together in a brief frown.
Why did I say that? My pulse spikes with regret. If Dakota finds out I shared her secret, she’ll never trust me again.
“That’s fine,” Father says, waving the moment away. “I was going to tell you anyway.”
He pauses.
“There’s something else.. something even your sister doesn’t know.”
My curiosity sharpens, mingling with unease.
“Follow me,” he says.
We descend into the underground study I didn’t know existed, and the air cools as we step inside with shadows stretching along the stone walls.
Halfway down, my feet grow heavy and a part of me wonders if I should turn back.
If he weren’t my father, I might think he meant to sell me out like some unwanted omega.
“We’re here.” He stops before a safe built into the far wall.
His fingers dance over a hidden keypad, and the mechanism clicks open.
Inside lies a small metallic box with its edges dulled by age and its surface dusted with rust. It looks as though it’s been waiting for centuries.
He lifts it with reverence, and light escapes from the c***k in the lid, casting a silver sheen across the room.
The object inside gleams like a captured star, and I shield my eyes instinctively, afraid its brightness might burn me.
“Luminaria Moon Heart,” he whispers like a spell.
My breath catches. I’ve never heard of it before, and I’m sure Dakota hasn’t either she would have told me, just as she shared stories about my childhood.
Why me, though? Dakota is the eldest, the one who always stood steady when storms rolled through. If there’s a family secret, she should know, not me.
Yes, she says, I have special abilities, but that doesn’t make me worthy of this. She’s never treated me as second best; why should I betray her by stepping into a place meant for her?
“What is it? And… Why me?” The question leaks from me, thin but persistent.
“Patience, child,” he says with a small smile tugging at his lips.
He holds the crystal toward me.
“You can have it.”
I hesitate, and my hands itch to reach out, yet a tremor keeps them close to my sides.
He wouldn’t hurt me, I know that, but what about this thing, this shard of moonlight?
What if it seeps into me, twists me into something I don’t recognize?
Dakota should be here. She’s braver and more certain.
I’ve always been the one who drifts, who questions, and she would know what to do.
“Before I take it,” I whisper, “Please… explain everything.”
His shoulders tense with a flicker of disappointment shadowing his face. Still, he nods.
“All right,” he says softly. “I’ll explain.”
Something inside me warms, and my love for him swells unexpectedly and yet unsteadily.
The moon goddess could not have given me a better father, no matter how flawed he may be.
“The Luminaria Moon Heart,” he begins, “is an ancient artifact. It has existed for centuries, long before I was born. Legend says it carries the essence of moonlight magic, holding the power to balance the supernatural forces of our world.”
His words roll over me with wonder and danger.
“It’s been guarded through generations,” he continues. “Its purpose is protection. The one who holds it must keep harmony alive.”
I listen with every nerve tuned to his voice. The room feels smaller and alive with the secrets finally freed.
“If it was meant to be hidden,” I ask quietly, “why tell me?”
He looks at me with his eyes steady but shadowed.
“Because of the war. And because I fear for my death.”
The word lands like ice in my chest. Death. I don’t want to believe it and I don’t want to picture him gone.
“If that day comes,” he says calmly, “someone must guard it. Someone chosen by the moon goddess herself.”
His gaze pierces through me unwaveringly.
“That someone is you.” He says…
- Writer
