Chapter 2 Rumors of war
Soraya’s POV
I’ve never been more relieved that someone had the audacity to burst the Alpha’s door open. And if I had to guess, I know the only person who could’ve done this is Damien’s Beta. The only person that I manage to tolerate in this godawful pack
The moment Beta Victor walks in, Damien goes rigid with fury. “Why the fuck would you interrupt my private moment with my wife, Vik?” he snarls, not even bothering to turn around fully.
Victor’s eyes flick between us —me half-stripped and bruised on the bed, Damien standing over me like he owns the air I breathe— and I catch the way his jaw tightens before he steps forward. “Apologies, Alpha. An urgent message just came through from the king’s council. They’re requesting you immediately.”
Damien’s whole body goes stiff with reluctance, like he’s weighing whether ignoring the crown is worth finishing what he started. But nobody ignores the royal council. Nobody. He straightens, adjusts his shirt like he wasn’t just seconds from raping me, and narrows his eyes at me before he goes.
“I’ll be back soon, wife” he says, and it isn’t a promise. It’s a threat.
Then he’s gone, leaving me and Victor, and the silence that follows is so thick I can hear my own pulse in my ears. I fumble to cover myself, humiliation burning hotter than any of my bruises, my hands shaking too badly to manage the torn fabric. After a moment, Victor walks forward and gently pulls the blanket over me himself, not looking at anything he shouldn’t.
“I…I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “For what he does to you. For all of it. I’m sorry Soraya.”
“Don’t worry about it.” The words come out flat, rehearsed. “I’m used to it.”
Something flashes across his face. A heavy anger that makes his jaw twitch. “I wish I could do something. I wish I could have him arrested for what he does to you.” His hands curl into fists at his sides. “But I’m bound by the beta bond. I can’t move against my Alpha. Believe me, if I could—”
He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t have to.
I pull my dress on with hands that won’t stop trembling, and somewhere between the buttons and the silence, a sob escapes me, and I finally break down in front of my friend.
“I can’t do this anymore, Vik.” I whisper, and then I’m crying in a way that I never let myself do in front of anyone. “I think this happens to me because of what I am. Because I’m golden. Because I’m supposed to be special and instead I’m just...” I can’t finish it either.
Victor kneels in front of me, and his voice goes soft. “Hey. Look at me. None of this is because of what you are. You are still quite young and should be happy, not abused and pressured. You don’t deserve this..”
I don’t know why it comes pouring out then — “But I’m unfortunate! Only me, my mother is gone. My family, gone. My brother, missing for years now, and some nights I don’t even know if I’m grieving him or just grieving the version of myself that still had someone. I need to leave here, Vik. I can’t do this anymore.”
Victor listens to me without interrupting once, and when I finally stop, he takes my hand. “I also think you need to leave. In fact, I’ve been talking to some border guards, and I’m hoping in just a few months time, we’ll be able to smuggle you out of the Bridgestone pack’s territory. Somewhere faraway, where you’ll be at peace.”
I stare at him silently, wondering if that would really be possible.
“I would do anything to make you feel safe again, Sor,” he says. “Anything to make you happy.”
I look at him, and he looks at me. I’ve known for a while now that Victor has always cared about me as more than his Alpha’s wife. I know it in the way he watches me sometimes, in the way his voice changes when it’s just us. But I can’t let this happen. I’m mated to Damien. Even if it’s not a real bond, even if we were simply chosen for each other by our parents and our packs, I am still his wife in every way that matters to everyone but me. And I know that Victor hasn’t found his fated mate yet. That’s the only reason why he sort of likes me.
Victor squeezes my hand. “I care about you so much. I think about you everytime. Hoping you’re fine.” he says, and he leans in, and for one second I stay still as his face almost touches mine.
Then I pull away. “Vik… this can’t happen,” I say, and my voice breaks on it.
After a few seconds, Victor nods, stepping back like he expected it. “I understand. I’m sorry Luna.” A pause, and then, gentler: “I’ll send for the healer, and your maid, to come take care of you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, and he leaves me alone with my bruises and the wreckage of the table and the ringing quiet of a room that has never once felt like mine.
I sit still as Flora, my handmaid tends to my wound after the pack doctor just came in and treated me, stitching my wounds. Thankfully, I was given the moon juice, something that helps werewolves heal faster. Though the injuries will not disappear overnight. They’ll still linger and most definitely scar.
I feel a sudden stir within me from Kira, my golden wolf. But she doesn’t say anything as usual. She’s been silent ever since I entered into this pack and family. When I was 16 and saw my wolf, I was the happiest. My first shift made me popular when people saw I was a golden wolf. I had special abilities.
But now, I’m 22 and it feels like I’m wolfless and weak. I can hardly feel or hear Kira. Maybe because her soul is broken… like mine.
“Luna, did you hear that the Alpha might have been drafted to serve in the war?” Flora asks as she rubs the ointment over my skin. I pause immediately her words register in my head.
“Where and when did you hear this Flora?” I ask immediately.
“Oh everyone’s talking about it. They said that the Malrek himself is drafting alphas from each packs across the territory to fight in the war against the demons who are trying to take over the realm.”
My blood turns cold immediately. The MALREK. He is called that because he is the most powerful Lycan warrior, king of the armies. He’s also known as the gravemaker. And there’s a reason he’s earned that name. He is a cruel being who murders hundreds of people daily. He controls the realm and every shifter bows to him. Just hearing his name fills me with a terror that I can’t explain.
I hate him. I hate the Malrek with an intensity That’s so strong, because it’s a feeling that still burns clear and sharp underneath all the numbness. It was his army that raided our home when I was seventeen, tearing through our territory like we were nothing, throwing us out onto the street with whatever we could carry in our arms. My father never recovered from it. The cold, the humiliation, and the sickness that followed. He died within the year. My mother, desperate and terrified and out of options, married me off to Damien when I turned 20, convinced it was the only way to keep me safe, to keep what was left of our family standing. Then she died too. And then my brother just…walked out one morning and never came back, and I still don’t know if he’s alive somewhere or if the realm swallowed him whole the way it swallows everyone eventually.
All of it traces back to the Malrek. Every ruined piece of my life has his fingerprints on it somewhere. If I could see him right now, I’d find a way to slice his neck till he’s not breathing. But I know this can only happen in my imaginations.
But if there’s one good thing that monster has ever done, it’s this. If Damien gets drafted, he’ll be gone. Away from this house, away from me. Damien was never much of a fighter anyway. The only time he’s ever shown real strength is when his fist is aimed at my face. The thought of him on some battlefield, useless and out of his depth, almost makes me want to laugh.
“You can leave me for now, Flora. Thank you” I say, before I can think too hard about the small hope blooming in my chest.
Flora’s hands are still on my skin. “Are you sure you’re alright, Luna?”
“I’m fine. Really.” I’m not, but she doesn’t need to know that tonight.
She hesitates a moment longer before she dips her head and slips out, closing the door softly behind her. I wait until her footsteps fade down the hall before I let myself move to the window. Outside, the sky has gone fully dark, stars scattered thin behind a haze of clouds. The Bridgestone pack is not big, but it’s considered one of the respectable packs because of the wide territory. And also because Damien’s late father was once close to the royal family.
I close the windows and draw the curtain before turning to stare at myself in the mirror. My red hair looks almost black in the dark room as I quickly tie it up, ignoring the pains in my limbs.
There’s something I always do when it gets dark like this. And tonight, with Damien and Gamma Wilfred no doubt still holed up somewhere arguing over his bad luck of being drafted, it’s the perfect chance to slip away before anyone notices I’m gone.
I pull a long robe over my shoulders, drawing the hood up to cover my head and most of my face, and grab the torchlight from beside my bed. Then, as quietly as I’ve learned to move in this house full of people who hurt me, I slip out of my room and into the dark.
