The Alphas Shadow

The campus green was a sea of frantic students, but Maya Thorne moved through the crowd with the effortless grace of a girl who knew exactly who she was—and exactly where she was going. ​"You’re overthinking the shoes, Elara," Maya laughed, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder as they dodged a group of freshmen. "It’s a masquerade. Literally no one is looking at your feet when you’re wearing a mask that costs more than my tuition." ​Elara adjusted the strap of her bag, trying to keep up. "I just don't want to trip in front of the Council. Or worse, your dad’s Enforcers. You know how they get about 'pack decorum.'" ​"Please. Tonight is about the transition of the seasons, not a military inspection," Maya said, though a hint of excitement colored her voice. "Besides, the Alpha has been gone for three months. The house is going to feel like a palace instead of a fortress for at least a few more hours." ​Waiting at the curb was a sleek, blacked-out SUV. The driver, a tall man named Elias who had been with the Thorne family since Maya was in diapers, held the door open with a respectful nod. As they climbed in, the scent of expensive leather and air conditioning enveloped them, cutting off the humid campus air. ​"Home, Elias," Maya commanded playfully. "We have a transformation to undergo." ​The drive from the university to the Black Ridge estate was a transition between worlds. They left the paved streets of the town behind, winding up the mountain where the air grew cooler and the trees grew thicker. As they crossed the bridge over the rushing stream, Elara looked to the right. The Pack House sat nestled in the valley, a sprawling stone-and-timber structure where the majority of the wolves lived and trained. It was already buzzing with activity; she could see the younger wolves setting up long tables and hanging lanterns for the public portion of the ball. ​But Elias didn't turn right. He drove straight up the private incline toward the Alpha’s mansion. ​The SUV came to a smooth stop at the base of the grand stone staircase. The double doors of the mansion sat at the top, imposing and silent. ​"Finally," Maya sighed, jumping out. "Peace and quiet." ​"Is anyone actually here?" Elara asked, stepping onto the gravel. The house felt different today. It lacked the heavy, oppressive weight of Silas Thorne’s presence—the vibration in the air that usually told everyone an Alpha was in residence. ​"Nope. The staff is down at the Pack House helping with the feast, and Dad doesn't get back from the city until right before the masks go on," Maya said, grabbing Elara’s hand and dragging her toward the stairs. "It’s just us. Come on, I’ve had the gowns delivered to my suite. I think I found a gold one for you that’s going to make you look like a literal goddess." ​Elara followed, her heart giving a strange, uncomfortable thud at the mention of the color gold. She hadn't told Maya about her eyes—not yet. She’d been wearing contacts for weeks, hiding the amber-gold flecks that seemed to grow brighter with every passing day Silas was away. ​As they reached the top of the stairs, the silence of the mansion felt less like peace and more like the breath before a scream. The Alpha was coming home tonight, and for some reason, the thought made Elara’s skin itch with a sudden, frantic need to run. ​"Elara? You coming?" Maya called from the doorway. ​"Right behind you," Elara whispered, stepping into the shadows of the Alpha’s home.