Moonblooded

Chapter 7 Outsider

They came for her just after sunrise.

Two guards, both silent, stood at her door with unreadable expressions and weapons holstered tight. Their presence wasn’t protective. It was watchful. Controlled.

Selene didn’t ask where they were taking her.

She just stood.

Her legs trembled slightly as she pushed herself upright. The silver cuffs around her wrists buzzed with a low, steady ache. They didn’t burn anymore, but the weight of them was constant, a reminder.

She followed them into the hallway, her bare feet whispering across the tile.

Her breath hitched the moment she stepped beyond the infirmary wing.

Blackfang’s estate was nothing like she’d imagined.

It wasn’t stone and fire and fur rugs like the fragmented memories of old pack dens clawed at in her mind.

It was modern.

Steel. Glass. Marble floors polished to a shine. Long hallways, security cameras tucked into corners. Technology humming beneath the surface of a world shaped by dominance and blood.

And everywhere, wolves.

They passed pack members in training uniforms and sleek tactical gear. Some carried files. Others wore earpieces. A few looked up as she passed.

Most didn’t.

But Selene felt the eyes.

Not curious.

Not kind.

Judging. Waiting.

They feared her. Or hated her.

She didn’t know which stung more.

Lira stirred faintly in her chest.

“Let them stare. They already fear what they don’t understand.”

Selene didn’t answer. She couldn’t,not with the fog still clouding half her thoughts and pain humming through her spine like static.

They stopped at a door midway down the east wing. One of the guards opened it without a word.

Ronan was inside.

He stood near the window, arms crossed, the early sun casting a long shadow across his boots. His presence was calm, but it made the guards go still behind her.

Selene didn’t flinch.

“Morning,” Ronan said.

She nodded once, stepping into the room. It was sparse but clean, bed, dresser, folded clothes, and a private bathroom with the door left ajar. Still better than the infirmary.

Still a cell.

“Is this mine?” she asked.

“For now.”

Ronan didn’t move.

Selene walked toward the bed and sat slowly. Her legs still ached, her bones sore from lying still too long.

“You’re being given limited freedom,” he said. “No training grounds. No combat areas. No pack access. You stay in this wing unless escorted.”

“And the cuffs?” she asked, holding up her wrists.

“Stay on until the Alpha says otherwise.”

She didn’t hide her bitterness. “He doesn’t trust me.”

“He doesn’t know you.”

She looked up at that. “Do you?”

Ronan’s expression didn’t shift. But something flickered behind his eyes—calculation, maybe. Or warning.

“I don’t trust many,” he said. “But I don’t hate easily either.”

He took a slow step forward.

“You’re here because he let you live. That means something. But it doesn’t mean immunity.”

Selene’s lips parted. “What does it mean, then?”

Ronan’s voice lowered. “It means eyes are on you from every angle. Don’t give them what they’re hoping for.”

“And what is that?”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he handed her a plain black set of clothes, joggers, a shirt, soft boots.

“Wear these. Merek will check in again this evening.”

Selene took them without a word.

Ronan turned to leave, but paused at the door.

“I don’t know what happened to you before we found you,” he said, voice softer. “But if you want to survive here, you’ll need to play smart. Not proud.”

The door shut behind him.

The room was quiet.

Still.

Selene stood and changed, biting back a hiss as her ribs protested the movement. Her fingers lingered on the new fabric—clean, soft, strange.

She caught her reflection in the bathroom mirror and froze.

The girl staring back looked like a ghost.

Silver hair. Pale skin. Hollow eyes. So skinny the hospital clothes hung so loose they may fall off, and small not like the wolves she’d seen on the way here, she felt older then she looked since her appearance was almost childlike.

But still beneath the frailty, something simmered.

Not rage.

Not grief.

Something older. Wilder.

Lira’s voice stirred again.

“Your past 18 little moon we joined souls earlier then the average 16 for wolves, Ive been with you since you were 10 and it’s been 10 years since then. They think you’re weak. Let them.”

The knock came precisely at noon.

Not rushed. Not aggressive. Just… deliberate.

Selene turned from the window, her breath catching slightly as the door eased open.

Two guards stood on either side, but the woman between them moved with such smooth grace, they felt like set dressing. Her posture was straight, her chin high. She wore a black fitted top, high-waisted utility pants, and a silver Blackfang insignia at her shoulder.

Her eyes, sharp and dark as obsidian, landed on Selene with surgical precision.

“Taylor,” the woman said before Selene could speak. “Beta female of Blackfang. I thought it was time we met.”

Selene remained standing, tension coiling through her limbs.

Taylor stepped into the room without waiting for an invitation. The guards closed the door behind her but remained just outside. Close enough to act. Not close enough to hear.

Selene didn’t move.

Taylor’s eyes swept the room in a single glance. “Not exactly luxury, but it beats the infirmary.”

“I suppose,” Selene said quietly.

Taylor turned her gaze back to her, more measuring now. “You don’t remember who you are?”

Selene stiffened. “I remember enough.”

“Do you remember what it means to live in a pack?”

The question wasn’t casual. It wasn’t curious. It was a blade, offered handle-first.

Selene met her gaze evenly. “Do you remember what it means to survive outside one?”

Taylor’s lips curved slightly—not quite a smile. “Touché.”

She crossed her arms. Her presence filled the room, not with force, but with command. The kind that didn’t need raising a voice to be felt.

“Ronan told me you’re not ordinary. Not just because of the healing, but because you haven’t broken yet.”

“I’m tired. Not broken.”

Taylor gave a small nod. “Good. Because Blackfang doesn’t waste time with broken wolves.”

She walked slowly around the room, not stalking, just circling. “The pack is watching you. The warriors, the guards, even the Omegas. You’re the first rogue to ever be brought behind these walls and live.”

“I didn’t ask to be brought here,” Selene said.

“No. But you’re here now.” Taylor’s voice cooled. “And whether you asked for it or not, you’re inside his house.”

Selene’s stomach twisted.

She knew exactly who his referred to.

Taylor stepped close—within arm’s reach. Her tone didn’t change. “Do you know why they’re really afraid of you?”

Selene swallowed. “Because they think I’m dangerous?”

“No,” Taylor said, calm as winter. “Because he doesn’t look at anyone the way he’s looked at you.”

Selene’s pulse jumped.

She said nothing.

Taylor gave a small, almost sympathetic nod. “You should be careful.No one can protect you here not even him. Not from the jealous ones. Not the political ones. Not the ones who think they were promised a future you just… disrupted.”

Selene blinked. “Promised?”

Taylor’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Let’s just say you’ll want to watch for silk and claws.”

She turned then, heading for the door, but paused with her hand on the handle.

“One more thing,” she said without looking back. “If you ever think to strike first, just remember who gets buried first when the tide turns.”

And then she was gone.

Selene stood frozen for several seconds after the door closed.

Her wolf was eerily quiet.

Then, at last, Lira stirred.

“That one doesn’t lie.”

Selene exhaled slowly. “She’s not scared of me.”

“No. But she’s waiting to see if she needs to be.”

Selene crossed back to the window, pressing her palm to the cold glass.

Outside, the estate buzzed with motion, training drills, scouts loading vehicles, a world constantly in motion.

The guards took her out for a walk just before dusk.

Nothing generous, just a slow circuit through the eastern courtyard under watchful eyes. One guard trailed at her side, the other behind. She wasn’t allowed to veer off the paved path. Every step was a test she hadn’t agreed to.

The courtyard itself was beautiful, open stone flooring, flowering trees, wrought-iron benches nestled beside sculpted hedges. Wolves trained in the adjacent lot, fists slamming against pads, grunts and snarls echoing through the air.

Selene kept her head high. Not defiant. Just steady.

Lira pulsed quiet encouragement from within.

“They want weakness. Don’t give it to them.”

As they passed the far edge of the courtyard, a group of warriors leaned against a shaded wall, finishing a sparring round. Most ignored her.

One didn’t.

He was young. Broad-shouldered. Arrogant. Clearly a warrior based on his physic.

“Must be nice,” he drawled just loud enough to carry. “Stumble outta nowhere, and suddenly the Alpha brings you home like a pet.Wonder how fast you spread your rogue legs for him to get him interested that quickly.”

The others chuckled, low and cruel.

Selene’s step faltered for just a second.

Then she turned.

Her guards hesitated. They didn’t move to stop her. They just watched.

Selene walked straight toward the warrior.

He grinned, arms folded. “Didn’t mean to upset the rogue bitch.”

The words barely left his mouth before Selene moved.

She didn’t think.

Didn’t hesitate.

Her hand shot out and grabbed the front of his shirt, slamming him back against the courtyard wall with a force that cracked the stone behind him.

His feet left the ground.

His smirk died instantly.

The courtyard silenced.

Selene’s face was calm. Dead calm.

But her eyes gleamed faintly.

And beneath her skin, light flickered.

Just for a second. Like moonlight shining through flesh.

Her voice was soft. Controlled. Razor-sharp.

“I’m not anyone’s pet.”

She dropped him.

The warrior crumpled to the ground, coughing once, face flushed with fury and humiliation.

One of the guards stepped forward, hand on his baton.

The other raised a hand in warning. “Don’t.”

Selene turned without a word and walked back to the path.

No one stopped her.

No one laughed.

No one breathed.