The Alpha's Lost Luna

5

Liz

I slept like s**t. Not the kind of restless sleep that leaves you groggy. The kind that claws at you. That drags you under and then rips you back out just as quickly. Over and over again until your bones feel heavy, and your mind feels raw. My wolf hadn't settled once. She paced and scratched and pushed beneath my skin.

Run, it felt like she urged. Get out. I couldn't. I never could.

By the time I forced myself out of bed, every inch of me ached like I had been beaten in my sleep instead of resting. My reflection didn't help. My hair was a tangled mess, knots woven so tightly it felt like punishment just trying to pull my fingers through it. Dark purple shadows clung beneath my eyes. Too deep and too permanent. I looked worn. Used. Like exactly what I was.

I exhaled sharply and rolled my eyes at myself before twisting my hair into a tight braid, and it pulled at my scalp, grounding me. Pain I could control.

I put my shoes on and tied my apron. Mask of indifference firmly in place. Another day. The chill from the open window brushed against my skin. It was soft and fleeting. For a moment... just a moment... I let myself stand there and stare out. The horizon was painted in soft golds and pinks. The sun was just beginning to rise. It was beautiful. Painfully so. A life like that... open and endless, free.... it wasn't meant for me.

My wolf stirred again, restless beneath my skin. Run, she pressed harder this time. Shift. Feel the earth. Feel something real.

"Later," I whispered under my breath. A promise I barely kept. I could sense her growing frustration with me. We were two separate beings, yes, but we shared one soul. Tied together. I shut the window before I could linger too long in something that didn't belong to me and slipped out into the hallway.

The packhouse was quiet but not peaceful. It never was. Even in silence, it felt... watchful. I moved carefully and instinctively. My steps were light, my shoulders tucked. My head was lowered just enough to be seen as respectful, but not enough to draw attention. Guards lingered in the halls patrolling and changing over for the new shift.

I didn't look at them. I didn't need to. I felt it anyway. The sneers and the indifference. The quiet acknowledgment of exactly where I stood in the hierarchy. At the bottom. Always the bottom.

____________________

The kitchen was already alive when I entered. Heat hit me first — thick and suffocating from the massive stone fireplace that burned constantly. The scent followed next. Fresh bread. Melted butter. Crisping bacon. It should have been comforting. Instead, it made my stomach twist painfully.

I washed my hands and got to work without being told. I didn't need instructions. I was the extra task. The extra pair of hands. The one who picked up everything no one else wanted. Dishes, scrubbing, grease traps, burnt pans, long hours. Punishments disguised as responsibilities. Or maybe the other way around.

The kitchen itself was beautiful. Like everything in this pack that I wasn't allowed to truly enjoy. Stone walls carved with age and history. Thick wooden countertops worn smooth from decades of use. It wasn't mine. None of it was.

I cracked eggs into a bowl, the repetitive motion grounding me. Around me, other servants moved in a practiced rhythm. No one spoke much. No one needed to. We all knew the rules, and we all knew the consequences. It was better for me to stay busy anyway. If I stayed busy, I didn't think. And if I didn't think, I didn't hope. And hope... hope was dangerous. Hope made you forget your place. Hope makes you believe in things like love... and mates... and futures that didn't end in servitude.

My wolf shifted uneasily at that thought. She didn't agree. She never did.

The shift in the kitchen was immediate. Subtle but still sharp. My shoulders tensed before I even saw her. Luna Faye. She entered like she owned the air itself. Her pretense cut through the kitchen with cold precision. Conversations died instantly. Movements sharpened and everyone straightened. Including me.

I kept my head down as she moved through the room, inspecting. Judging and searching. She stopped in front of my station. Of course, she did. Her lip curled before she even spoke. "This is less than satisfactory," she said. Her voice was smooth but laced with disdain. "I don't suppose a lesson needs to be taught, does it?"

My fingers. Twisted tighter in the fabric of my apron. Every instinct in me screamed to bare my teeth. To snap. To defend myself. My wolf surged forward, a low warning growl vibrating in my chest. I crushed it down hard.

"No, ma'am," I whispered instead. Submission and survival. The two went hand in hand here.

Luna Faye's gaze lingered on me. Waiting and searching for the defiance I refused to give. For a moment, I thought — hoped — she would push. That she would give me a reason. Just one. My pulse spiked at the thought. But she didnt. She scoffed instead, disappointed and moved on. Coward, a voice in my head hissed. Smart, another corrected.

"This looks wonderful," she praised moments later, standing beside the head chef. "Truly, Stuart. You outdo yourself every time."

Of course. Of course, she would say that. I rolled my eyes. Stuart dipped his head respectfully, but his eyes flicked to mine over her shoulder. There was something there. Something quiet, almost apologetic. Then it was gone. Like it had never existed.

"Elizabeth," he called once she left. "We need help serving. Alexandras at the infirmary. Take these to the dining hall." Of course, she was. Or maybe she wasn't. It didn't matter. It would fall to me either way. It always did. I wanted to say no. God, I wanted to. But wanting didn't mean anything around here. At least it didn't for me. So I nodded and moved.

The cart was heavy, stacked high with trays of food that smelled far better than anything I would be allowed to eat. My stomach growled. I ignored it. The halls stretched long and wide, lit by sconces that cast flickering shadows across paintings that probably cost more than I would ever see in my life.

Landscapes, portraits, stories that were frozen in time and captured on canvas for all to admire. None of them included people like me. I looked at them all as I walked. I stopped at the doors, my hand hovering over the handle. My chest tightened. My wolf surged forward again, but this time it wasn't just restlessness. It was a feeling of alertness. Sharp and awake in a way she hadn't been before. Something's off. Or maybe... something's coming. I swallowed hard and pushed the doors open with my back.

The dining hall hit me all at once. Noise, movement, and heat. And scent. Gods, the scent. Dozens — no hundreds — of wolves all packed into one space. It pressed into me from all sides. It was overwhelming and suffocating. I fought the urge to gag, and then... something else. Something different. It cut through everything else. It was clean. Cedar. Stormy. The kind of scent that rolled in before thunder cracked open the sky. The scent of a rich and green forest. My wolf went completely still. Then focused and relaxed at once. There. I didn't look. I couldnt. Because I was suddenly very, very aware of the room. Of the eyes on me. Of the weight of my place here.

I moved mechanically. I was efficient and tried to be as invisible as possible. That was the goal, always invisible. Plates, bread, meat, refills. In and out. Quick and quiet. Most of the wolves here ignored me. Some looked through me. A few sneered. None of them thanked me. My fingers tightened around the tray. Spoiled. Every single one of them. My wolf stirred again, less restless now... more calculating. As if she was observing through my own eyes.

And then... that feeling. The one you can't explain. The one that crawls along your spine and settles between your shoulders. I was being watched. Not glanced at. Not dismissed. Watched intently. My skin prickled. My wolf leaned into it. She was curious and interested. This was new for us. My heart stuttered. I moved faster. I needed to get out.

The leadership table loomed ahead. Tension rolled off of it in waves. I didn't look at him. I refused. I would not look at Rowan Steele. Not the future alpha. Not the man who would decide my fate, the rest of my life. Was I a coward? Maybe. But I didn't care.

Luna Fayes disgust was immediate as I plated her food. Predictable. I expected it. Even though she had just praised Stuart for the very same food. I turned... too fast. Too careless. The cup of coffee tipped and time slowed. It spilled and a gasp echoed out. My heart stopped.

I braced for the pain instantly. My body reacted before my mind could. My shoulders curled. My head ducked down and eyes squeezed shut. I was waiting and counting. One... two...three... nothing. No strike. No burn. No slap. No impact. Silence. It was thick and heavy. It felt wrong.

A chair scraped and a low growl cut through the room. Then.. "It's fine." The voice was deep and rough with sleep. Powerful. It sounded commanding. It wrapped around me like a storm rolling in slow in inevitable. "It's just coffee. I've had worse."

My breath hitched. No. No, no, no. I knew that voice. It was darker and deeper than I remembered, but it was unmistakeable. I lifted my head slowly. Carefully. And everything... everything stopped. It was him. Rowan. The world narrowed to a single point. His eyes, ice blue, locked on mine. Then, it snapped. Not gently. Not softly. Violently. Like something ancient and unbreakable had been waiting. Just for a moment.

A force slammed into my chest, stealing the air from my lungs. Heat surged through my veins, sharp and consuming. My wolf lunged forward with a sound that wasn't quite a growl but wasn't a whine. Only heard by me. Mine. The word wasn't a thought. It was a certainty. A claim. A truth that settled deep into my bones whether I wanted it or not.

My heart pounded erratically, my pulse roared in my ears. No. No, this wasn't... this couldn't.... his scent wrapped around me fully now. Cedar. Storm and power. Home. The realization hit me like a blade to the chest. Of f*****g hell. My mate. My mate was him. Rowan f*****g Steele. The future alpha. The man who would own everything. The man whose family.... despised me. He despised me. I think.

My stomach dropped. Cool dread flooded every inch of me, chasing out the warmth just as quickly as it had come. Every dream I had ever buried clawed its way to the surface, only to be ripped apart just as fast. Because this? This wasn't a blessing. This was cruel and twisted. A joke the universe was playing at my expense.

My wolf didn't agree. She surged forward again, stronger this time. Ours. "No," I whispered, only for her to hear. Denial. It was immediate and desperate. Because mates were supposed to mean something. Safety and love. Belonging and a future. This? This meant ruin. I took a step back. Then another before I turned and ran. My pulse wouldn't slow and the ache in my chest wouldn't ease. And his eyes... they hadn't left me. Not once. Fuck... my... life.