Losses

The blue blanket clings to my shoulders as I snuggle deeper into the pillow, shielding myself from the biting wind.

“...line!”

The muffled voice barely reaches me over the howling wind. My body protests at the thought of moving. Stupid window. I didn’t shut it earlier, did I?

“...adeline!”

The wind picks up, colder and more insistent, making my blanket feel useless. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out everything. I’ll fix the window later—maybe. For now, I’m just glad I have nothing urgent to—

“Madeline!”

I jerk awake, my heart racing. My wolf stirs, groggy yet annoyed at the interruption. A sharp cramp shoots through my lower abdomen, forcing me back down onto the bed with a moan.

“Come in!” I half-yell, half-groan.

The door bursts open, and Maggie, one of the pack maids, rushes inside, her forest-green eyes wide with panic.

“Madeline! Everyone is expecting you! Did you even check the time? It’s 6:57!” Her words tumble out in a flurry, and she starts pacing. “Oh my god, what are we going to do? The Luna will have my head. No—she’ll banish me! My aunt will never forgive me—”

I sit up slowly, peeling my clothes off as another wave of pain wracks my body. I wince, suppressing a groan.

“Maggie,” I say weakly, “calm down.”

But she doesn’t hear me, still spiraling about her imminent doom. I shake my head and make my way to the bathroom.

The thought of a shower feels like a monumental task. The cold water. The soap. Ugh. I glance at the mirror, and my pale complexion stares back at me. Deciding that today is not the day for full hygiene, I settle for a quick essentials-only wash. A package sits in the corner, just as Mom promised. I open it, find the thickest pads I can, and double-layer them. Better safe than sorry.

Emerging from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, I find Maggie mid-monologue about her ruined future.

“Maggie,” I interrupt, “you’re not losing your job. I promise.”

She pauses, finally noticing me. Her wide eyes scan my face and outfit as I slip on an off-shoulder cream gown with a slit running from the lap down. Matching it with pale blue heels, I accessorize with my butterfly bracelet from Damien and a crescent moon necklace. Maggie sighs in relief when all was done, her panic replaced by a radiant smile.

“You look amazing!” she exclaims, pulling me into a bear hug.

“Thanks,” I manage to say before wincing.

She releases me instantly, a sheepish grin on her face. “Sorry!”

“Shall we?” I gesture toward the door. She nods eagerly.

As we walk through the hallway, nerves start to creep in. My fingers find the crescent moon pendant, fiddling with it absently. My wolf stirs, sensing my unease.

“Maddie,” Maggie says, snapping me out of my thoughts, “you’re panicking.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re fiddling with your necklace. You always do that when you’re nervous.”

I sigh. She’s not wrong.

“It’s fine,” she reassures me. “They’re just guests. Well, very powerful, slightly terrifying guests. But still—”

“Maggie!”

“Sorry!” She clamps her mouth shut.

The scent hits me suddenly—earthy forest, leather, and something faintly minty. My wolf lunges forward, alert and restless.

“Maggie,” I whisper, my voice low and guttural, “do you smell that?”

She steps back, her eyes wide with fear. “Your eyes—they’re golden.”

I barely hear her. My wolf takes over, sharpening my senses as I sniff the air. The scent grows stronger. I don’t think; I run.

The hallway blurs around me as I follow the intoxicating smell to its source. It leads me to the dining hall doors, guarded by two wolves. They bow as I approach, but I barely notice them.

Pushing the doors open, I step inside, and my world shifts.

There he stands.

Dark hair swept to the side, brown skin glowing under the chandelier light, his frame lean yet powerful in a black denim jacket and ripped jeans. His eyes—an intense, piercing black—lock onto mine, and I know.

“Mate.”

The word escapes my lips at the same time he says it, his voice low and resonant.

Gasps ripple through the room. My father growls under his breath, and Damien curses audibly.

My mate steps forward, his eyes flashing gold before shifting back to brown. Behind him, an older, scarred man with a menacing presence smirks.

“I hope this changes things, Alpha Dexter,” the man says, his tone mocking. “After all, we’re family now.”

“This changes nothing!” my father growls, his pale blue eyes darkening to black as his wolf emerges.

“What’s going on?” I ask, my gaze never leaving my mate.

“He wants Dad to step down as Alpha,” Damien says, his voice tight. “To surrender the pack.”

The scarred man—Alpha of the Shadow Moon Pack—smiles coldly. “And I always get what I want.”

“Not from me, you don’t!” My father’s voice booms through the room.

The tension snaps like a live wire. My mother steps forward, her golden hair flowing like fire, her eyes blazing. “If it’s war you want, then war you’ll get.”

The Shadow Moon Luna laughs softly, her blood-red lips curling. “Oh, darling, who said we haven’t already started?”

The words barely register before chaos erupts.

Before anyone could register it, father’s eyes go blank, his expression shifting to shock. Blood sprays across the table as he falls to the ground, clawing at his throat. Standing over him is the Shadow Moon Alpha, his claws dripping red.

“No!” My mother’s scream pierces the air, raw and heart-wrenching.

Time slows. My wolf howls in anguish, her voice mingling with my mother’s as we watch our Alpha—my father—bleed out on the polished floor.