The Fallen Luna's Redemption

Chapter 6: The snow wolf

Kieran

“Helen, how sure are you about what you said last night?” I asked, pacing back and forth, my hands clenched into fists.

“She is a snow wolf, Kieran,” she said in a really calm voice, like she didn’t know the gravity of what she was saying. “They are extremely rare and extremely powerful.”

I scoffed, refusing to show even a little atom of hope that rose in my chest. I’d refused to believe it because in all my years of living, I only met a snow wolf once.

“Snow wolves are ancient beings, Helen. You expect me to believe that girl is one?”

She stepped closer, her eyes sharp. “I don’t expect you to believe anything. I expect you to feel it. You touched her yesterday. Can you tell me you felt nothing?”

I didn’t reply to that because she was right. The moment I touched her, something jolted inside of me, like she had a very strong energy source hidden inside her.

“Even if she is,” I grumbled, “what does that change?”

Helen looked at me like I’d asked the stupidest question ever. “I told you, Kieran, there’s a chance she could break your curse. But you have little faith.”

I hated that word.

“A chance,” I repeated bitterly. “Not certainty. How do I have faith in that? I’ve carried this curse for so long, and now you want me to believe that slave girl has the answers to my problem?”

She nodded. “Yes. She does.”

I looked away and toward the direction of the guards training below.

“She doesn’t even know what she is,” I muttered.

Helen sighed. “Her wolf is unawakened. You saw how confused she was, how unaware. She doesn’t know the power in her blood.”

“And that makes her more prone to attacks if any other person finds out what she is.”

“You need to keep her close. Watch her. And when her power fully awakens, you’ll take it for yourself. Because if you don’t, someone else will find out, and you will lose your only shot at breaking your curse forever.”

I clenched my jaw as I stared at the sunset. I couldn’t let that happen. I would take her power and end her life, it was as simple as that.

I would never let anyone else find out what she truly was, so I had to keep her close, where I could watch and control everything she did.

I sat in the dining room. My thoughts were everywhere, and it was a complete mess. I looked out the window. The sun had set completely; the sky was now cloudy.

“Send for her,” I instructed the guard standing by the door, my voice carrying command.

Moments later, she walked in with the guards. She was in clean clothes now, neatly fitted, simple, but for the first time since I met her, she looked... half decent. I immediately squashed the thought that she might be beautiful. For a long time, I hadn’t let myself admire any woman. I refused to cross that line—not now, not when she was only a means to an end.

There was a pause when she looked at me, but her eyes were warm with detest, and she looked like someone who was ready to stab me in the heart if she got the opportunity.

“Sit,” I said, gesturing to the chair right in front of me.

She hesitated, reluctant. I didn’t say a word, just let the pause stretch. I didn’t raise my voice, but she knew she didn’t have a choice.

Slowly, she started lowering herself into the chair. I watched her every movement. I saw the annoyance on her face, and I couldn’t help but smirk.

The food arrived, freshly cooked eggs, bread, roasted meat, and fruits. Instantly, I heard her stomach growl. A ghost of a smile appeared on my lips. She just stared at the food but refused to touch any of it. Fine. I didn’t force her, not this time. I began eating, and I looked at her. Even though she was clearly hungry, her face showed no emotion.

“Your defiance,” I said finally, not looking at her, just letting the words drop between bites. “I don’t like it.”

“Then I think you should let me go,” she said, her voice carrying so much confidence for someone who’s supposed to be a slave.

“That’s never going to happen.”

“Then I’ll never stop being defiant,” she followed, her hand over her chest.

I paused, the fork halfway to my mouth. She was testing my limits, pushing me. I shook my head. She was trying to provoke me. Slowly, I dropped the fork back on the plate.

“Because you are no longer in the dungeon doesn’t mean I don’t have other ways to make you suffer... little wolf.”

Instantly, I saw a flicker of something like fear in her eyes. I smirked.

I leaned back against my chair, watching my words sink in. Her face went from confidence to fear all in a matter of seconds.

I gestured to the guard standing nearby. “Get the head maid,” I said, my voice low yet commanding, my eyes never leaving hers.

Moments later, a woman in her late forties to early fifties walked in. She carried herself with the grace of someone who’d been in service for years. I watched how she looked at the older lady, and I heard her heart skip a beat, like she already knew what was coming.

“This,” I said, pointing to her, “is one of the newest additions to the maids. You will put her to work, organize her, and make sure she knows her duties.”

She blinked, and I watched the color instantly drain from her face. “No, you can’t do this,” she protested.

“I just did,” I said simply. “Maybe this will teach you manners.”

“You are a monster,” she snapped, her voice loud.

I leaned closer. “I know I am,” I whispered with a smile. “Take her away.”

The guards walked toward her, but she was already standing. “Don’t touch me. I’ll go.”

I leaned back in my chair, watching her walk behind the head maid.

She was my prisoner. Guest or not, she would never forget that. And she would learn quickly that here, in my packhouse, I make the rules, and everyone else follows them.