Twins of the Moon

POV: Selene Harlow I had rehearsed my words all morning, clutching the council documents to my chest like a shield. My hands were dripping in sweat despite the cool breeze that drifted through the Silvercrest Packhouse. The carved double doors to Alpha Kieran Rodrian’s office loomed ahead—tall, dark, and unwelcoming joined with the loud rhythm of my heart that pounded against my very ribcage, but I reminded myself this was just an errand. Nothing more. Deliver the papers, bow, leave. That was my place. That was always my place. I raised a trembling hand and knocked, although trying to steady my breathe. The first reply was no answer. The silence pressed in, heavy, before a muffled sound escaped from within—a low, drawn-out groan, husky and intimate. My brows knitted. Perhaps I had misheard? I hesitated, gripping the handle. Duty demanded I enter, but hesitation demanded I run. At last duty won. The door creaked open, and the world stopped. Kieran Rodrian—my Alpha, my childhood savior in distant memories—sat sprawled on the leather couch, shirtless, his bronzed skin soaked in sweat. Amara Silvershadow, the daughter of Alpha Silvershadow and his chosen Luna-to-be, was astride him, her long legs tangled with his, her platinum hair spilling over her bare shoulders like a goddess descended to earth. Their mouths fused in hungry passion, hands roaming, bodies entwined as his c**k throbbed in and out of her. Had they not known a third party was in the room? I stood, with my eyes locked on the scene before me, ears filled with the steamy moans that filled the air. Not me bearing it anymore as the sight before me weighed heavy. The tray I held with my trembling hands slipped, and the crystal glass shattered against the polished floor, its echo slicing the heavy silence which made both heads turned. Amara’s eyes, icy silver and sharp as daggers, narrowed in fury. She rose fluidly, unashamed of her nakedness, every inch of her radiating dominance. “You filthy little rat,” she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. Before I could stammer an apology, her hand cracked across my face. The slap rang out, sharp and humiliating, stinging my skin until it burned. I staggered back, clutching my cheek, but she wasn’t finished. “How dare you interrupt us?” she snarled, stepping closer. Her nails dug into my chin, forcing me to look up at her. “Or perhaps you came here hoping to catch a glimpse of what you’ll never have?” “Amara,” Kieran’s voice was deep, commanding, yet startlingly indifferent. He hadn’t moved. He hadn’t even looked at me, not really. His gaze lingered lazily on Amara, as if she were the only person in the room who mattered. His silence cut deeper than her slap. “I—I only came to deliver the council papers,” I stammered, my voice small and pathetic. Amara’s laugh was cruel, echoing against the walls. “Papers? Do you hear that, Kieran? Your little outcast who thinks she has a life in a pack speaks of bringing papers.” She shoved me to my knees. The broken glass glittered around me like cruel stars. “Clean it up immediately. With your hands.” My stomach knotted but with the last ounce of confidence I had. “I can’t do that.” As though I still had something to say, it was a harder palm that landed on my face, “And how dare you speak to my Luna in such manner?” I only could lay my hands on my pale cheek, the pain searing through my very skin. “You think you have a place in my pack?” he spat, “You’re only alive because you’re of little use of service here. Nothing else.” “Now!” she barked, her dominance pressing down on me like a crushing weight. “Clean those stuffs.” The breath left my lungs as I bent down, my fingers trembling. A shard sliced across my palm, and I hissed softly, but I did not stop. Another cut across my knuckles, warm blood trailing down my skin, staining the floor. My humiliation stung more than the pain—the sight of Amara towering over me, naked and victorious, while Kieran with disgust covered over his face. “This is what happens when air wander where they don’t belong,” Amara sneered. She crouched, her lips brushing my ear. “You’re nothing, Selene Harlow. A mistake. An orphan clinging to being an omega so you could be reckoned as part of the pack. The Moon Goddess must have been blind when she let you live.” My heart twisted, but I forced my shaking hands to gather each shard, even as the glass bit into me. I would not give her the satisfaction of seeing me break. Kieran’s awkward silence was the worst part. Just once did he speak-but with the imprint of his palm on my cheek, not once did he lift a hand to stop her cruelty. His gaze slid past me as though I were invisible. I realized, with a sick twist of my stomach that perhaps I was. When the last shard was piled onto the tray, I bowed my head low, blood dripping onto the wood. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. Not to them, but to myself—for being weak, for being born into a world where I was always less. “Promise to make you proud.” Amara smirked, satisfied, and sauntered back to Kieran, who opened his arms for her without hesitation. She settled against him, triumphant, rubbing his n*****s while I knelt there with stinging cuts and shattered pride. I swallowed the lump in my throat. If the Moon Goddess still listened, if she had not turned her face from me, then I begged—not for love, not for rescue, but for strength. Grant me a wolf worthy of surviving this. Give me a soul that cannot be broken. Please… on my eighteenth birthday, when the Blood Moon rises, let me awaken to something more than this shame. I rose unsteadily, clutching the tray, and turned to leave. My dignity was in tatters, my pride bleeding onto the floor, but my heart still clung to one desperate, fragile hope—that tomorrow’s ceremony would finally set me free. Just as I reached the door, Amara’s laugh sliced the air again. She leaned into Kieran’s chest, her voice a silken dagger. “She doesn’t know yet, does she?” she purred, locking eyes with Kieran. “That her life will come to an end like that of her parents once the Moon Goddess makes her choice.” The words froze me mid-step. My blood ran cold, and for the first time, true fear slithered down my spine. What did she mean?