Chapter 10: More Secrets

Seraphine’s POV

I stepped into the corridor, my thoughts swirling with Evelyn's words. Her concern was genuine, but she didn’t know what I was dealing with. Couldn’t know.

My room was just ahead, and I quickened my pace. The key to the attic was still where I had hidden it—tucked away beneath a loose floorboard under the bed. As soon as I reached the room, I closed the door quietly behind me, locking it for good measure.

Dropping to my knees, I reached for the small gap in the floorboards. My fingers slid into the groove, pulling the plank free with a faint creak. The key glinted faintly in the dim light filtering through my curtains.

“Got you,” I muttered under my breath, pocketing it.

The attic. It was the one place that might hold the answers to the growing pile of questions in my mind. I slipped out of my room again, careful to avoid any unnecessary attention.

The staircase leading to the attic was in the western wing of the packhouse, far from the more frequented areas. As I rounded the corner toward the hallway, a strange sight froze me in my tracks.

Two guards.

Standing right in front of the door to the attic staircase.

My heart sank. The last time I was here, there hadn’t been anyone posted. The hallway had been quiet, deserted even. But now, the guards stood at attention, their faces expressionless, spears in hand.

I ducked back around the corner, pressing myself against the wall. Why were they there? Did someone know I’d been snooping around?

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to think. I couldn’t just waltz up to them and ask to pass; that would raise too many questions. I needed a distraction.

But what?

Taking a deep breath, I peeked around the corner again. The guards were chatting quietly, though their posture remained stiff and formal. They didn’t look like they were expecting trouble, which meant I might have a chance to get past them.

Okay, think, Seraphine. What would Evelyn do in this situation?

The answer came almost immediately. Evelyn would cause chaos.

Straightening my posture, I walked back down the hallway toward a small storage room I’d passed earlier. The door was slightly ajar, and inside were stacks of old, dusty boxes. I grabbed one of the smaller boxes, tucked it under my arm, and headed toward the guards.

Confidence. That’s what I needed to sell this.

As I approached, one of them glanced up, his brows furrowing.

“Luna,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “Is there something you need?”

I plastered on a tight smile, hoping it looked convincing. “Yes, actually. I was just sorting through some of the old archives and realized there’s a mix-up with the inventory logs. There’s an issue in the east wing storage room that needs immediate attention.”

The guards exchanged a look, clearly unsure.

“I don’t think we’re assigned to that area, Luna,” one of them said hesitantly.

“Exactly why I need you,” I said quickly. “It’s a bit of a mess, and I’d rather have trusted sentinels handle it. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on things while you sort it out.”

They hesitated again. I could tell they didn’t want to leave their post.

“You do understand this is a direct request from your Luna, don’t you?” I added, raising an eyebrow.

That did the trick. They snapped to attention, nodding quickly.

“Yes, Luna,” one of them said.

“We’ll check it out immediately,” the other added.

I stepped aside, waving them off down the hall. “Good. Thank you. Please be thorough—it might take a while.”

They hurried off, and as soon as they were out of sight, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Phase one: complete.

****

With the guards gone, I moved quickly. The key in my hand felt heavier than ever as I unlocked the door to the attic staircase. The hinges creaked slightly as I pushed it open, but the hallway was empty.

I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me and locking it again. The stairs stretched upward, steep and shadowy, their wooden boards creaking under my weight. My pulse quickened with each step, my anticipation growing.

When I reached the top, the attic was just as I’d left it the day before. Dust motes swirled in the dim light, and the faint scent of old parchment lingered in the air.

The attic was eerily silent, the air thick with the scent of dust and old wood. I ran my fingers over the floorboards, searching for anything that felt out of place. My heart was pounding so loudly that I was sure someone downstairs could hear it.

And then I found it.

A loose floorboard.

I dug my fingers into the edges, prying it up carefully. Beneath it lay a rusted metal box, its surface mottled with age. My hands trembled as I lifted it out and placed it on the table. It was heavier than I expected, the weight of its secrets pressing down on me before I even opened it.

I fumbled with the latch, which creaked as it gave way. Inside, there were old maps and a bundle of letters tied together with fraying string. My eyes scanned the maps first. They were marked with routes and symbols I didn’t recognize, but one thing was clear—they detailed an attack.

A specific attack.

My father’s pack.

“No,” I whispered, my voice trembling. My fingers moved faster, flipping through the maps until I found a letter tucked beneath them. The parchment was brittle, the ink faded, but the words burned into my mind as I read them.

"Under the guise of a rogue invasion, the Alpha’s pack must fall. Their strength is a threat to our plans. Ensure both leaders are eliminated. The girl will pose no danger without a wolf."

I froze. My throat felt tight, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My parents. This wasn’t some random attack. It had been planned—deliberate.

I swallowed hard, my fingers gripping the edges of the letter. There were more beneath it, and I forced myself to keep reading. Each word felt like a blade carving into me.

"The girl is not to know. Her lineage, if revealed, could disrupt everything we’ve worked for."

Lineage? What lineage?

I was shaking as I pulled out another letter. This one was different. It wasn’t a directive but a personal message. Addressed to Lucien.

“What the…?” I muttered, my voice barely audible.

The letter wasn’t signed, but the tone was unmistakable. It spoke of cooperation, of shared goals. Of silencing threats.

My breath caught. Lucien. My mate. The one person I thought I could trust. He knew. He had to.

I backed away from the table, the rusted box still open, its contents spilling out like a dam had broken. My mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. Had Lucien been part of this? Had he known what happened to my parents?

“No,” I said aloud, shaking my head. “This can’t be right. He wouldn’t…”

But the evidence was there, staring back at me.

I heard footsteps downstairs, faint but growing louder. The guards were back. Panic surged through me. I stuffed the letters, the maps, and the rest of the papers into my bag. My hands fumbled with the box, and I shoved it back under the floorboard, covering it hastily.

I couldn’t process it now. I had to get out of here.

But as I turned toward the door, my thoughts were racing. If Lucien had known… if he had been part of this…

Footsteps.

The guards.

Panic surged through me. They must have realized there was no “inventory issue” in the storage room.

Think fast, Seraphine.

I glanced around the attic, searching for a hiding spot. The shadows in the far corner looked deep enough to conceal me, and I slipped into them just as the door to the attic creaked open.

The guards stepped inside, their eyes scanning the room.

“Luna?” one of them called out.

I held my breath, pressing myself deeper into the shadows.

“She’s not here,” the other said after a moment.

“Why would she send us away if she was just coming up here?”

“Something doesn’t feel right,” the first guard muttered. “We should report this to the Beta.”

My heart pounded in my chest. If they told anyone—or worse, the elders, I’d be in serious trouble.

“Let’s check the room first,” the second guard suggested.

They began moving through the attic, their footsteps heavy on the wooden floorboards.

I gripped the pendant in my hand, my mind racing for a way out.

I couldn’t get caught. Not now…