Chapter 5 CREEPY STALKER

VALERIA’S POV

With the kitchen duties finally behind me, I wiped my hands on my worn apron and headed upstairs. It was time to clean the head warriors’ rooms—a task I didn’t mind too much. At this hour, the warriors would all be outside training, leaving their quarters empty and quiet. Cleaning gave me a chance to lose myself in the repetitive motions, to think without interruptions.

Climbing the stairs, I carried my supplies with me, the wooden bucket swaying slightly in my grip. The house was still waking up, faint murmurs of voices and footsteps echoing in the distance, but the halls leading to the warriors’ quarters were eerily silent.

As I reached the first room, though, a strange sensation prickled at the back of my neck. It was subtle at first, like the faintest whisper of unease, but it grew stronger with every step. I paused mid-stride, glancing over my shoulder.

The hallway was empty.

The air was still, but my instincts were screaming. It felt as if someone’s eyes were boring into me, watching my every move. My heart picked up speed, and I swallowed hard, telling myself I was just imagining things. After everything that had happened earlier, it wasn’t surprising that my nerves were shot.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling.

I quickened my pace, my worn shoes barely making a sound against the polished wooden floor. My breath hitched as the unease grew heavier, almost tangible, wrapping around me like a cold fog. Every instinct I had was yelling at me to get out of sight.

I spotted the first room and darted inside, shutting the door quickly behind me. My hands trembled as I slid the lock into place, the soft click sounding louder than it should have in the stillness.

Leaning back against the door, I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady my erratic breathing. The room was dimly lit by a sliver of sunlight peeking through the curtains, the faint scent of pine and leather filling the air.

For a moment, I stood there, straining to hear anything—footsteps, a creak of the floorboards, anything to explain the sensation of being watched. But there was nothing.

Maybe I was just being paranoid. After everything Magnar and his friends had done earlier, it wouldn’t be surprising if my mind was playing tricks on me.

Still, I couldn’t ignore the way my skin prickled, as if invisible fingers were tracing patterns along my spine. I shook my head, trying to push the feeling away, and turned toward the room.

It was as I’d expected—neatly arranged but needing a thorough dusting. I busied myself with the task, focusing on the rhythm of cleaning to calm my nerves. As I wiped down the desk, though, the uneasy feeling persisted, lingering like a shadow in the corner of my mind.

Something wasn’t right. I just didn’t know what.

I tried my best to shake off the eerie feeling and focus on my work. Cleaning had always been my escape, a task where I could lose myself, block out the chaos of my existence, and just... breathe. I finished dusting and scrubbing the first room, ensuring everything was spotless.

With a soft sigh, I grabbed my supplies and stepped into the hallway, ready to tackle the next room. Six more to go, I reminded myself. Just six more rooms, and then I could take a moment to rest.

But as I turned toward the next door, a hand shot out of nowhere, grabbing my arm with brutal force. Before I could react or scream, another hand clamped down over my mouth, silencing me. Panic surged through me like wildfire, and I squeezed my eyes shut in terror, expecting the worst.

Then it happened again—those strange, electrifying waves I’d felt earlier in the day. The sensation was as shocking and overwhelming as before, like my very nerves were being set alight. My eyes flew open, and I was met with the sight of Magnar, his furious gaze locking onto mine.

His body towered over me, his presence suffocating as he crowded me against the wall. His arms caged me in, his strength making escape impossible. My heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst from my chest.

“You b*tch!” Magnar snarled, his voice echoing with rage. “How could you?”

I flinched at his words, utterly confused and terrified. What had I done now?

“M-Magnar—Alpha—did I do something wrong?” I stammered, my voice trembling as I struggled to make sense of his fury.

But my question only seemed to fuel his anger. His hand shot up, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking it hard enough to make me cry out.

“Wrong?!” he spat, his breath hot against my face. “Nothing is right anymore, you worthless slave! Do you think you can just waltz your way into my life, into my position, and turn yourself into my Luna?!”

His words hit me like a slap to the face. My mind reeled, trying to comprehend what he was saying. Turn into his Luna? Me?

“W-what are you talking about?” I managed to choke out, tears brimming in my eyes.

Magnar sneered, his golden eyes blazing with fury. “Don’t play innocent with me, Valeria. Don’t you feel it? The bond, the pull? Of all the wolves in the pack, the Moon has cursed me with you! A slave!”

The bond? The pull? His words swirled in my mind like a storm, and suddenly, the shocking waves I felt earlier began to make sense—or at least they should have. My heart sank, and dread seeped into my veins.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “This can’t be…”

“Oh, it is,” Magnar growled, his face inches from mine. “And I’ll be damned if I let a filthy nothing like you claim a position that isn’t yours.”

Tears spilled down my cheeks, fear and disbelief warring inside me. How could this be happening? How could fate be so cruel?

“Yes, you are my mate,” he spat, his golden eyes glowing with unrestrained fury. “And you’re parading around this pack house as if you don’t know anything. Cooking in the kitchen, cleaning the warriors’ rooms, pretending to be innocent.”

I opened my mouth to respond, to protest, but his words didn’t stop, pouring out in a torrent of anger.

“You purposely spilled that drink on the warrior,” he continued, his voice low and menacing, “and then tried to be nice to him right in front of me. Do you think I’m a fool? You think I don’t see through your little games?”

His accusations left me reeling. What was he even talking about? I’d done no such thing, but there was no reasoning with him, no explaining myself when he was like this.

“You think I’ll become jealous of that warrior and accept you?” he sneered, his face twisting with disgust. “You just wait and watch what I’ll do to you. From now on, watch your every step, slave, because your time in this pack has come to an end.”

His words were like a death sentence, and before I could process what he meant, his hand lashed out, delivering a slap so hard that my head snapped to the side. Pain bloomed across my cheek, hot and stinging, and tears immediately welled in my eyes.

He shoved me backward, his strength sending me sprawling against the wall. The bucket I had been holding clattered to the floor, its contents spilling out, but I barely registered the sound.

I was too stunned, too overwhelmed by the whirlwind of emotions raging inside me—fear, confusion, anger, and despair all tangled together.

Magnar turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, his speed so inhuman that by the time I blinked, he was already gone. The door slammed shut behind him, the force rattling the walls.

It wasn’t until the silence settled over me that I realized I was crying. My tears fell freely, soaking my cheeks, but I didn’t bother wiping them away. My legs gave out, and I slid to the floor, clutching my stinging cheek as sobs wracked my body.

Why? Why was this happening to me? What had I done to deserve this cruel twist of fate?