Fated to the enemy

Elena's pov "Yes, yes right there", I moaned. "Please don't stop am begging you" I was wrapped in pleasure it was so overwhelming that I forgot to breath, his fingers felt so good. I grinded my hips following the rhythm but just as I was about to c*m someone tapped me. "Hey, wake up we're here". I opened my eyes and looked around honestly I didn't know how to feel but right now I think I should face reality. I adjusted my leather bag, fixed my glasses and came down from the van I walked into the gate of the pack that murdered my parents and ruined my pack. BLOOD MOON PACK was written in bold letters over the entrance. For fourteen years I'd waited for this, training in the human world, staying sane, staying sharp and staying alive for exactly this moment. "Name," said the woman at the gate, her clipboard ready, eyes already moving past me. "Elena." "Surname?" she continued "Wilson." The name felt like a stone in my mouth. It was never mine. Aunt Caroline gave it to me, in order to hide my identity. I wasn't a cross anymore. I am just a maid, at least for now. "Kitchen or laundry?" "Housekeeping, then. Report to Caroline at the east wing." "Whatever's needed." That earned me a look. Everyone wanted a kitchen with warmth, food, and a chance to be seen by someone worth impressing. I needed the opposite. I needed to stay invisible. At least luck was on my side because I will be working under Aunt Caroline. I walked through the halls of the pack that orphaned me without my hands shaking. Without my face giving away a single thing. Inside, it looked wrong. Sunlight drifted from the training yard and a warrior caught a stumbling pup without even glancing down. The pack looked so peaceful, this wasn't what I expected. I'd spent fourteen years picturing this place built out of nothing but blood and cruelty. Finding warmth here instead felt like a trick. Inside me my blood boiled, they had peace while my fellow survivors roamed around pack territories as rogues. All I need is evidence and the pack would be in chaos. Aunt Caroline found me before I found the east wing. She looked older than I remembered. There were a few silver strands in her hair now, new lines carved into her face, but she still looked very beautiful. "You look like her," she murmured. "Your mother. You have her eyes." "Don't please, not here." I cut her off, reminding me about them would only fuel my rage. Her hand gripped my wrist, hard, then let go. "Head down, shoulders soft. You remember all we discussed over the phone, right?." she asked me scanning my face with concern. "I remember." "Good. You already walked in here like you were counting exits." "I was." "That's why I know you'll survive." She almost smiled. "Come on." she said walking ahead of me. My room was small. A cot, a basin, a window barely worth the name. I didn't unpack. Some part of me still expected it all to be ripped away the second I let my guard down, so I just left it unpacked ready for the worst. I headed straight to the bathroom, I needed to bath, my panties wereall soaked because of earlier. I was now folding the linen alone in the laundry, when all of a sudden I heard a loud thud, with something red splashing on the window. I looked down and I saw a lifeless body without a head, in the pool of her own blood, just then the head fell, it rolled before it finally stopped, her eyes were still open, it was a very traumatizing sight. I looked up and our eyes met, His stormy gray eyes piercing mine, something about those eyes looked familiar but I couldn't picture where I did seen them. I looked down immediately, my heart pounding, and this was what I was expecting, blood stains. The summons came at midday. A maid burst into the laundry room, breathless. "Hey, New girl?” she said looking at me. “All staff should assemble in the courtyard. The Alpha's choosing his personal maid, again." She said it like it was a routine and from the look of things the formal one just got beheaded. My heart slammed in my chest I'd rehearsed this, empty eyes and soft spine, my scent buried under the herbs Caroline gave me so nothing about me would smell like what I really was. I hadn't rehearsed for what it would actually feel like standing in front of him. We lined the courtyard in rows. I stayed at the back, chin down. And then the air changed, pressure, sudden and heavy, like the whole yard was holding its breath at once. Every conversation died. Every spine straightened without being told to. Footsteps came down the stone stairs. A man who never had to rush for anyone in his life, walked down, with another man who looked younger than him. The very man, I saw at the window who murdered the supposed maid. "New staffs, Step forward." he said with authority. I moved with the others, staying hidden in the middle, eyes fixed on the collar of the girl in front of me. His footsteps moved down the line, paused then moved on, bored. The footsteps stopped in front of me and didn't move on. My heart slammed once, too loud. I kept my eyes down, on his boots, because looking higher felt like standing too close to a fire. "Look at me." It was not a request. I lifted my eyes, taking in his facial features, jaw carved like stone, mouth flat and assessing, and then storm-gray eyes that locked onto mine and didn't let go. Something inside me tore sideways. Not fear, but something worse. it was like a pull, violent and sudden, like a rope yanked tight between us. My wolf, who had been buried, silent and obedient for fourteen years,slammed against the wall I'd built around her so hard that it stole my breath. His jaw went tight. His nostrils flared once, involuntary, and for one cracked second the boredom in his face split open into something dangerous. Something that looked like recognition. "Alpha?" A voice behind him, older and wary, called. He ignored it. "What's your name?". He asked me instead Every instinct screamed a lie. I couldn't lie my badge would betray me. "Elena." I paused, then continued "Elena Wilson, Alpha." "Wilson." He said it slowly, like he was testing a lock. Something flickered in his eyes, it was not recognition of the name. Recognition of something else. Something neither of us had chosen. “Alpha Damon” the old lady called again. I looked at her, she was the lady from outside the gate. “Shut up, what is it you want to tell me that can't wait” he said fuming. She stepped back, head down, her hand slightly shaking. The average young man beside him cleared his throat, sharp and deliberate. Alpha Damon blinked like he was surfacing from underwater. When he spoke again, his voice had gone flat and commanding. "Her," he said, already turning away. "She serves me directly. Starting today." Murmurs rippled through the staff around me. I kept my spine soft, my face blank, my hands steady while my heart tried to beat its way out of my chest. He felt it too, because his glance stayed longer than it should. Caroline's hand closed around my wrist before I could fall apart in front of everyone, pulling me back into the crowd. "Breathe," she whispered. "Whatever that was, don't let your face show it. Not here, always learn to mask your feelings." "I don't know what that was," I whispered back. It was the truth. What I felt back there was new to me. I adjusted my glasses and walked behind Caroline. Beside us, near the training yard, I saw an older man, the very man I had seen in pictures Aunt Caroline sent, my enemy with a cup of wine in his hand, watching me walk away.