Secrets in the Shadows
1536 Words
Esme couldn’t sleep.
She laid in her small room, staring at the wooden ceiling with the stranger's words ringing in her head. “Ask your father, ask him why he is so afraid of you”
Her father had never shown fear—not to her, not to anyone.
He is a man of strength and control, the Alpha of the Crescent Valley Pack.
But doubt crept into her as Esme thought about the years of being ignored and of feeling like and outsider in her own family, her own pack.
She gave a heavy sigh, rolling left and right on her side. There were shadows cast by moonlight streaming through the window. Outside, the pack was still chanting victory songs and celebrating Alina's latest feat in training. “They always celebrate her”, Esme mumbled to herself.
The pain her in chest was back, Esme squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block the pain. She tried to let it go, she tried to stop caring, but a strange seed has been planted in her by the stranger's words - Hope.
Her wolf continued stirring, it had been louder and stronger since that event in the woods, as if it woke up from a long slumber. Esme brushed her hair out of her face as she made herself get up.
Her wolf stirred restlessly.
Will I just keep sitting here?
She swiftly swung her legs over the bed and arose. She could hear faint cheering voices from the main hall outside as the entire house was quiet. She was sure her father would not be at the hall for long. He hated noise.
This was her chance.
Putting on her almost worn out boots, Esme quietly walked to her door, gently opening it to avoid creaky hinge. She got into the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible while walking on the wooden floor.
The way to her father's study was familiar to her, although she rarely visits there, as she had no reason to do. The walls had old tapestries and family portraits, bearing the faces of their ancestors staring down at her with blank expressions.
She trembled as she was about to open the door to the study. She hesitated, pressed her ear to the wood to listen to any sound coming from inside, but she heard nothing.
She slowly and gently opened the door and made her way in.
The study smelled of leather and pine, just as she remembered. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books about pack law, history, and strategies for war. The desk at the center was cluttered with papers and maps, but Esme’s attention was drawn to the small locked cabinet behind it.
If there are answers, they’re in there.
She quickly crossed the room, her heart beating as fast as it could. Esme had learned a few tricks over time, so picking and opening the sturdy lock was not going to be hard for her. She knelt in front of the cabinet.
As she worked the pin In the lock, she muttered, “come on”, it was taking longer than she expected, but finally, she heard the soft click.
As she opened the cabinet, her breath grew louder as she saw what lay inside.
There was a pile of letter, knotted with a faded ribbon, sitting on top a leather-bound journal.
Beneath them, an ornate box glimmered faintly in the moonlight. It was old, the carvings on its surface intricate and strange.
Esme reached for the journal first. The leather was worn, the edges of the pages frayed. She flipped it open, her eyes scanning the handwritten entries.
Most of it was mundane—notes about pack meetings, alliances, and rivalries. But as she turned the pages, something caught her eye.
“It's a blessing that Esme’s wolf remains quiet, though she does not know it. If her wolf fully awakens, there will be dire consequences, not just for her, but for all of us”
Her breath hitched. The entry was dated years ago, written in her father’s firm, slanted handwriting.
Why would her wolf awakening be dangerous?
She flipped through more pages, her pulse racing. Another entry stood out:
“The prophecy’s true meaning is hidden, even from Alina. Esme must never know the full truth. She cannot be allowed to rise.”
Esme’s hands trembled as she closed the journal. Her father did fear her—but why?
She set the journal aside and reached for the box. It was heavier than it looked, and a faint hum seemed to vibrate through her fingers as she held it.
Gently, she opened the lid.
In the box was a small crystal, which was glowing faintly with a sort of silvery light. It was like a heartbeat, pulsing softly. Esme looked at it with amazement, as warmth spread from her hand to her arm.
Suddenly, her wolf sprung forward, stranger than ever, she felt a sharp pain shot through her head. Gasping, and dropping the box, she fell to her knees.
She saw flashes of images, visions of a great battle, fire and blood. She saw a wolf with eyes like hers, standing alone against a sea of shadows.
She firmly held her head, the pain being unbearable. The pain stopped suddenly, just as it started.
The room was silent again, but Esme felt different. Stronger.
Her eyes darted to the door as a sound broke the silence—a faint creak of footsteps in the hallway.
Someone was coming.
Esme scrambled to her feet, shoving the journal and the box back into the cabinet. She locked it quickly and moved to the window, pushing it open. The cool night air hit her face as she climbed onto the sill.
As soon as she dropped to the ground outside, the door to the study opened.
With fierce authority, her father roared, “who's there?”
Esme held herself against the wall underneath the window, her heart racing. She could hear her father moving around the room, with heavy footsteps.
Finally, the sound of the door closing reached her ears, and she let out a shaky breath.
She needed answers, but not here. Not now.
The forest called to her, its shadows comforting in a way the pack house never was.
With the faint glow of the crystal still burning in her mind, Esme turned and disappeared into the trees.
With sounds coming from the different angles, the forest was alive. Leaves rustling, owl hooting afar off, stream nearby trickling. Esme moved quickly with her wolf guiding her.
She remembered the words of the stranger again, that her pack was in danger and the prophecy was not what she thought.
And now, after what she’d seen in her father’s journal, Esme knew he was right.
Her steps faltered as a figure appeared ahead, leaning casually against a tree.
“You’re either brave or reckless,” the stranger said, his voice low and rough. “Coming out here alone.”
Esme’s wolf growled softly, but she ignored it. “You knew, didn’t you? About my wolf. About the prophecy.”
The stranger bent his head a bit, hee glinted his eyes in the moonlight. “I know a lot of things, Esme.”
Her breath caught. “How do you know my name?”
“I’ve been watching you,” he admitted, his tone unapologetic. “Waiting for the right moment.”
“For what?”
“To see if you’re worth saving.”
Esme’s fists clenched. “I don’t need saving.”
He smirked without humor. “That’s what they all say, right before they realize they’re wrong.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Not from you,” he said, stepping closer. “For you. The truth. The power they’ve been hiding.”
Esme’s wolf stirred again, stronger this time, and she took a step back. “Why should I trust you?”
“Well, you do not have to”, he said. “But you should know that it is not only your sister that has been lying to you”.
Her heart skipped a beat. “What are you talking about?”
“Your father,” he said simply. “Ask him why he chose Alina over you. Ask him what he saw in you that made him afraid.”
Esme opened her mouth to respond, but a sudden roar echoed through the forest, cutting her off.
The stranger’s expression darkened. “They’re here.”
“Who?”
“Rogues,” he said, his voice grim. “A lot of them.”
Esme’s wolf growled, and this time, she didn’t try to silence it.
The shadows around them shifted as glowing eyes emerged from the darkness.
Esme’s breath caught as at least a dozen wolves stepped into the clearing, their teeth bared and their growls rumbling like thunder.
The stranger moved to stand beside her, his body tense.
“Ready to see if you’re worth saving?” he asked, his tone laced with challenge.
Esme swallowed hard, her wolf rising to the surface. “I guess we’ll find out.”
And then the rogues attacked.
- Writer
