Luna's Odyssey

Chapter 2: The Morning After

Dahlia’s POV

I slowly regained consciousness, aware of a damp sensation on my back.

A deep, masculine voice commanded, “Don’t move.”

I opened my eyes and realized that I was lying face-front on my belly and that the upper part of my body was exposed down to my waist. I hesitated at first but then decided to listen since the pain was unbearable, I tried to move my head to take in my surroundings, but my head throbbed like hell.

Suppressing the pain, I saw that I was in the pack infirmary, dim and silent. It was nothing fancy.

I tried to recall how I ended up here, my memories were hazy but I remembered being in the pack’s dungeon, and taking a beating from the Alpha before I from the blacked out from the pain.

Wondering who had brought me here, I heard a woman’s voice. “You were unconscious, the young man from earlier brought you in.”

For a moment, I just stared at the stranger, my breath catching. My eyes softened, shining with silent gratitude.

The healer gently tended to my wounds, dipping a cloth into a bucket of water and squeezing it before applying it to my back.

I winced, letting out a pained scream as the cloth touched my open wounds.

“You have serious injuries here, and they are not healing,” the healer observed, concern etched on her face. “You need to rest,” she soon added shortly as she tucked me in.

I felt a mix of gratitude and surprise that someone had brought me to the pack hospital for treatment and that the pack healer was speaking to me with such kindness.

I bit the inside of my cheek, blinking fast as the world shimmered for a heartbeat.

Typically, those at the pack treated me like nuisance, ignoring me altogether. Kindness wasn’t something I was used to.

Bang

My neck snapped toward the sound and the sight froze me. The Luna stood there, silent, seething, with rage flickering in her eyes.

This little moment of peace was about to be disrupted.

"What do you think you're doing here?" She snapped as she attempted to drag me from the bed.

"Luna, she's only receiving treatment for her injuries, she needs to rest," the healer replied calmly, gently trying to separate me from the Luna. My pulse hammered in my ears, each breath shallow and shaky as I wondered whether the Luna would listen to her.

A soft exhale slipped past my lips, and the pounding in my chest finally began to steady as the Luna's tight grip on me began to loosen.

"If her wounds doesn't heal and if she doesn't get enough rest, she might pass away, which is why she needs treatment," the healer calmly explained to her.

I swallowed hard, locking eyes with the Luna, praying that the desperation in my eyes could speak louder than my voice ever could.

"Who cares if she dies?" the Luna screamed at the top of her lungs. She looked at the healer and then back at me, her gaze cut into me like a blade, cold and cruel. Before I could blink, her fingers clasped around my arm, yanking me off the bed and hauling me toward the pack house.

At the pack house

I crashed to the ground, my palms scraping the cold floor. Behind me, the Luna's heels clicked across the tiles, each step slow, and deliberate. She sank into a chair in front of me, as she composed herself with slow rhythmic breaths, each exhale sharper than the last. A mockery of calm before the storm.

Then, without warning, her hand swung, the slap landing hard enough to make my vision blur.

I held my left cheek as I layed on the ground wincing in pain.

"Make sure you clean up the banquet hall, the meeting room, and my bedroom. Also, you would take over the chores of chief maid, and make sure dinner is ready before 7," the Luna commanded.

I stayed sprawled on the cold floor, my body still trembling from the brutal slap to my face. Just as I tried to steady myself, a sharp pain exploded in my stomach, her foot driving the air from my lungs.

Her voice sliced through the room, each word laced with venom. “Get your stupid ass up and get to work.” She didn’t wait for a response, just swept out, her scent lingering like smoke. My body screamed in protest as I pushed myself up, every movement a reminder of my place.

A bitter laugh almost slipped from my lips. I knew what she wanted.

She wanted to see me break, to see me small, to see me beg, to feed that wicked satisfaction of hers. My lips pressed into a hard line. If surviving meant denying her that pleasure, then I’d survive a thousand times over. I grabbed the broom and set to work, each stroke a silent act of rebellion.

I had done most of the chores I was given by the Luna, all that was left was the meeting room, and the banquet hall before I can finally prepare dinner.

Seeing that the Alpha was still in a meeting, I decided to take care of the banquet hall.

I froze at the edge of the hall. Dusty tables stretched as far as I could see, and the chandeliers gleamed like they were laughing at me. My chest tightened, cleaning this place felt impossible, especially with my wounds but I forced myself forward, hands trembling as I reached for the first broom.

I set to work, sweeping and dusting until the banquet hall gleamed. The effort left my arms sore, but the space finally looked as though no one had ever walked through it. Wiping my hands on my apron, I moved on to the meeting room. It was far less chaotic, just a few papers scattered across the table, and I finished quickly, the small sense of accomplishment doing little to lift the weight in my chest.

As I stepped toward the kitchen, I froze. Alpha Daniel was standing near the far end of the room, speaking with a man I had never seen before. His presence radiated authority, a silent power that made the air itself seem heavier. Their voices were low, unintelligible, but every movement, the tilt of the stranger’s head, the way Daniel straightened at something he said, set my nerves on edge.

I barely dared to breathe, inching closer to catch a glimpse, when the stranger’s eyes flicked toward me. For a heartbeat, the room seemed to still, the weight of his gaze pinning me in place. I didn’t know him, but instinct screamed that this was someone far more dangerous than anyone I had ever faced.

And then, without a word, he smiled.