The Storm Behind the Door
996 Words
By the time Selene returned from school, the air in the Blue Moon pack house had shifted again — heavy and thick like the sky before a thunderstorm.
She paused in the foyer, arms laden with textbooks, eyes flicking to the far corridor.
The parlour doors were open.
Inside, Alpha Garrick stood surrounded by the highest-ranking wolves in the pack — betas, deltas, the Luna. Their postures were stiff, their expressions sharp with concern. Even the usually smug Gamma, Saul, looked tight-lipped and wary.
A slow unease crept into Selene’s chest.
Something was wrong.
She didn’t linger. She knew better than to be caught eavesdropping. The Alpha hated surprises, especially when they came in the form of her face in places it didn’t belong. She ducked her head, skirted the edge of the hall, and slipped into the kitchen without a sound.
“Selene,” one of the younger kitchen staff whispered with surprise. “You’re late.”
“I got caught up with Miss Tiller after literature. She asked me to stay behind,” Selene murmured, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
The kitchen bustled around her — steam rising from pots, trays being loaded, vegetables chopped with mechanical rhythm. It was chaos, but a familiar kind. Predictable. Safe, in its own way.
“Here,” a voice said behind her, warmer than she expected. “You missed the last of the stew batches. I saved you a bowl before it was all gone.”
She turned, blinking. It was Elias — tall and lanky, with russet hair and warm brown eyes that always seemed to soften when they looked at her. His father was a Gamma, respected but not cruel, and Elias often volunteered in the kitchens after school.
“You didn’t have to,” Selene said, quietly, taking the warm bowl he offered.
“I wanted to.” He gave her a shrug and a small smile that didn’t ask anything of her. “You look like you’ve had another rough night.”
Selene didn’t answer that. She couldn’t.
Instead, she nodded once. “Thank you.”
Elias didn’t press, just went back to peeling carrots beside her. His presence was a small balm she never dared acknowledge aloud — a brief reminder that not everyone in the pack house was cold.
They worked side by side for a while, it was a moment of calm in the storm — one that couldn’t last.
It never did.
Not long after, a summons arrived.
“Alpha wants you in his office.”
The kitchen went silent for a heartbeat. No one offered her an out. No one dared.
Selene stripped off her apron and wiped her hands, the dull ache in her ribs suddenly heavier, sharper.
She walked slowly to the Alpha’s wing, counting every step. She knocked once.
“Enter,” Garrick’s voice snapped.
Inside, he was alone. The fire flickered behind him, casting shadows across his face — handsome to some, but twisted in her eyes. His tie was loosened. His shirt sleeves rolled up. There was a gleam in his gaze that made her stomach turn.
He didn’t speak. He simply held out a hand.
She stepped closer, and without warning, he pulled her down — into his lap.
Her breath caught in her throat, body locked in place.
He touched her thigh, slow and deliberate, sliding higher. Then, fingers brushing between her legs, pressing through the thin fabric.
“So warm,” he murmured, voice dark with satisfaction. “Always warm for me.”
Her skin went cold. Her breath stalled. She felt the hardness of him beneath her and froze — bile rising in her throat, heart racing in terrified defiance.
He leaned closer, nose brushing her cheek. “If not for the f*****g mate bond, you’d have been mine already. Screaming and marked.”
A knock at the door shattered the moment.
He growled low in his throat and shoved her face-first into the desk — her cheek smacking wood, pain sparking through her jaw.
“Enter,” he barked.
Beta Marius stepped in, his gaze flicking over Selene before pointedly looking away.
“The Lycan Alpha has responded,” he announced. “Lucan Draven will attend the charity banquet. He’s arriving the evening before to tour the territory.”
Garrick straightened, his expression smoothing into one of calculated satisfaction. “Finally. Maybe now we’ll get those f*****g rogues under control.”
Marius nodded. “He’ll be traveling with a minimal guard. Just his top warriors. Quiet.”
“Good.” Garrick’s jaw tightened. “This rogue problem is escalating. I need answers.”
Blue Moon territory had always bordered the wilder edges of the rogue lands, but recent months had turned aggression into something else — strategic raids, packs of rogues striking together. Not lone wolves. Groups. Organized. Lethal.
Selene listened in silence, still pressed against the desk, blood rushing in her ears.
When Marius finally left, Garrick leaned in once more. “You’ll be in the lower levels during the event. No exceptions. You’re not fit for guests to see.”
She nodded quickly.
“Get out.”
She left, every step unsteady. Her face throbbed, her thighs ached, but it was the hollow in her chest that hurt most of all.
⸻
That night, back in the laundry room, Selene sat with her knees drawn to her chest, the cold from the stone floor seeping into her skin. The silver cuffs still burned. Her wolf was silent. Always silent.
She’d expected to be part of nothing. But the relief that came with the Lycan’s arrival was real. A high-profile visitor meant she’d be hidden. Overlooked. Safe, in her own quiet way.
She didn’t know who Alpha Lucan was.
She didn’t care.
All she needed was the quiet. The absence of eyes. The gift of being invisible.
It was, for now, her only comfort.
And she held onto it like a final thought.
- Writer
