Love Beneath The Moon

Chapter 2

As I crossed the threshold into the pack's territory, my heart pounded with a mix of trepidation and curiosity. The landscape that stretched before me was a far cry from the harsh and fearsome world I had expected. Towering trees reached towards the sky, their leaves rustling in the gentle breeze. Flowers of vibrant hues dotted the forest floor, their colors a stark contrast to the ominous stories I had heard about Lycan packs.

The slave quarters, a cluster of modest cottages, stood in quiet contrast to the lush surroundings. As I entered, the hushed whispers of those around me and the wary glances that followed my every move weighed heavily on my heart. The kitchen, a hub of activity, was bustling with slaves engaged in various tasks. Their expressions were a mixture of weariness and skepticism, their gazes lingering on me with a mixture of curiosity and something darker.

Leona, the head of the slaves, approached me with a warm smile, but I couldn't ignore the tension that seemed to settle in the air as she introduced me to the others.

"Elana, meet the others who work in the kitchen," she said, gesturing to the group.

As the slaves turned their attention to me, I offered a tentative smile, my nerves clashing with my desire to make a good impression. "Hello," I managed to say, my voice carrying a hint of uncertainty.

The response was a mixture of nods and half-hearted greetings, the reception cold enough to send a shiver down my spine. Their eyes bore into me, assessing and judging, and I could feel the weight of their skepticism like a physical force.

One of the slaves, a young woman with hardened eyes, spoke up, her voice tinged with bitterness. "Another one to do Eren's bidding, huh?"

Her words hung in the air like an accusation, and I felt the collective tension around me increase. I glanced at Leona, uncertainty gnawing at me. How could I make them understand that I hadn't chosen this fate?

Leona intervened, her voice gentle yet firm. "Elana is here for the same reason we all are—to ensure our safety and survival."

The response was met with murmurs of agreement, but the hostility in their eyes remained. I was an outsider in a world that was already foreign to me, my status as a newcomer only adding to their resentment.

Over the next few moments, I could feel their eyes on me as they returned to their tasks, a silent reminder that their acceptance would not come easily. Leona guided me to a corner of the kitchen, where she began to instruct me on the tasks I would be responsible for.

As I worked alongside them, I couldn't shake the sense that I was an intruder in their world. I chopped vegetables, my movements precise yet mechanical, my thoughts consumed by the tension that lingered in the air. Their conversations were hushed, their glances exchanged when they thought I wasn't looking. It was as though they had formed a bond against an outsider—a bond that I was not yet a part of.

As the day wore on, I continued to labor in the kitchen, each interaction marked by a mixture of formality and unease. The others were careful in their interactions, keeping their distance both physically and emotionally. It was clear that their loyalty to one another ran deep, and the sudden inclusion of an outsider threatened that unity.

The sun began its descent, casting long shadows that danced across the kitchen floor. The scent of food filled the air, mingling with the tension that refused to dissipate. As we cleaned and prepared the kitchen for the next day's tasks, I couldn't ignore the feeling of isolation that had settled within me.

When the day finally drew to a close, I retreated to the modest cot that had been assigned to me. The events of the day weighed heavily on my mind, a reminder that my status as an omega had followed me even into this new world. I was a stranger, an outsider, and I knew that the road to acceptance would be a difficult one.

As I lay in the quiet darkness, the rustling of leaves outside the window and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures were a stark reminder of the world I now inhabited. But amid the uncertainty, I held onto a glimmer of hope—that perhaps, with time and perseverance, I could prove myself worthy of a place among them.

*

The nights in the pack's territory were unlike any I had experienced before. The chorus of nocturnal creatures and the rustling leaves outside my window created a symphony that seemed to echo the uncertainty I felt within. I lay on the cot, my mind swirling with thoughts that refused to be silenced.

One question in particular gnawed at me—the reason my father had chosen to sell me to Eren. Why him of all people? What danger had compelled my father to make such a desperate choice?

As I stared at the ceiling, a jumble of memories flashed before my eyes—of my father's stern face, his voice tinged with an unusual mixture of desperation and determination. He had said that Eren's protection was the only way, that there was no other choice. But what threat could be so grave that it forced him to sacrifice his own daughter?

I had grown up respecting my father's decisions, relying on his strength and wisdom. But now, I couldn't reconcile the man I had known with the one who had sold me to an Alpha known for his cruelty. The dissonance between the two images was a painful ache in my chest, a reminder of how little I truly understood about the world around me.

As the hours passed, sleep remained elusive. I rose from my cot, a restless energy propelling me to my feet. The moonlight streamed through the window, casting a silvery glow across the room. It was a stark contrast to the darkness that enveloped my thoughts.

I stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against my skin. The stars glittered above, distant and untouchable. I walked along the path that wound through the slave quarters, lost in my thoughts as I tried to piece together the puzzle that was my life.

The murmurs of distant conversations reached my ears, a reminder that even in the stillness of the night, life continued around me. I passed by a group of wolves, their laughter and camaraderie a stark reminder of the unity they shared. In that moment, I felt like an outsider looking in, a lone figure surrounded by a world that was both fascinating and confusing.

My thoughts returned to my father, his face etched with a mixture of sorrow and determination as he had handed me over to Eren. I couldn't ignore the possibility that he had acted out of desperation, that the threat he spoke of was real. But what danger could be so dire that he had been willing to sacrifice his own daughter to ensure his pack's safety?

The answer eluded me, a shadow that danced just beyond my grasp. I had always believed that my father's decisions were driven by a deep love for our pack, but now I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story—a truth that had been hidden from me.

As the night wore on, I found myself standing before the imposing doors of the Alpha's residence. The moonlight illuminated the area, casting long shadows that seemed to mirror the uncertainty within me. My heart raced as I contemplated the idea of seeking answers from the very source of my confusion—Eren.

The thought was equal parts terrifying and compelling. I couldn't ignore the questions that churned within me, the need for understanding that had grown too strong to be ignored. And so, with a mix of determination and trepidation, I took a deep breath and raised my hand to knock on the door.

The echoes of my own heartbeat filled the silence as I waited, the moments stretching into eternity. And then, as if in response to the turmoil within me, the door creaked open, revealing a sliver of dim light and the figure of a guard standing watch.

"Elana," he acknowledged, his tone neutral.

I cleared my throat, my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my chest. "I... I need to speak to Eren."

The guard regarded me for a moment, his expression unreadable. And then, with a nod, he stepped aside, allowing me to enter the Alpha's residence.

As I walked down the dimly lit corridor, my steps echoing in the silence, I couldn't help but wonder if I was making a mistake. The road ahead was uncertain, and the answers I sought might only lead to more questions. But I couldn't ignore the burning need within me—the need to understand, to make sense of a world that had been turned upside down. And so, with each step, I moved closer to the truth, ready to face whatever revelations awaited me.