11
The Nightshade compound sprawled across a valley floor like a sleeping giant, all dark stone and sharp angles that seemed to claw at the sky. Unlike Bloodfang's grand halls with their soaring arches and decorative flourishes, this place was built for war functional, intimidating, designed to withstand siege and assault.
As our small party crested the ridge overlooking the compound, I felt the weight of dozens of eyes upon me. Word had already spread about the Bloodfang exile in their midst, and wolves emerged from buildings and training grounds to catch a glimpse of their enemy's former Luna.
The hatred was palpable, rolling off them in waves that made my skin crawl. I kept my chin high despite their stares, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing me cower.
Marcus rode beside me, his weathered face impassive as he guided his horse down the winding path. "You'll be housed in the servants' barracks," he said without preamble. "East wing, bottom floor. The other omegas will show you the work rotations."
Other omegas. The words stung more than they should have. Six months ago, I had commanded the respect of an entire pack. Now I would be scrubbing floors alongside the lowest-ranking wolves in enemy territory.
"What kind of work?" I asked, proud that my voice remained steady.
"Whatever needs doing. Kitchen duty, cleaning, laundry, tending the wounded." His gray eyes flicked to mine. "Nothing that requires trust or access to sensitive areas."
Of course not. I was a potential spy, after all, even if my information about the rogue attack had bought me a temporary reprieve from execution.
As we approached the main gates, I caught sight of Darius emerging from what looked like a training ground. His wounds from the night before were clearly still bothering him, but he moved with the controlled grace of a seasoned Alpha. Several younger wolves flanked him, hanging on his every word as he issued instructions.
Our eyes met across the courtyard, and for a moment, I felt that strange jolt of connection again. Not the mate bond I had shared with Kael this was something else, something that whispered of possibilities I didn't dare examine.
Then he turned away, dismissing me as thoroughly as if I had never existed.
The servants' barracks were exactly what I had expected cramped, functional, designed for utility rather than comfort. The east wing housed the omega wolves, those too weak or unfortunate to claim higher ranks within the pack hierarchy. Their quarters consisted of small rooms barely large enough for a bed and a chest, with communal washing and eating areas.
Marcus led me to an empty room at the end of the hall. "You'll share with whoever needs space," he said, dropping a bundle of rough work clothes on the narrow bed. "Meals are at dawn, midday, and dusk. Miss them and you don't eat."
A woman appeared in the doorway as Marcus prepared to leave middle-aged, with graying brown hair and kind eyes that held deep weariness. She wore the same rough work clothes Marcus had given me, her hands marked with the calluses of hard labor.
"I'm Elena," she said quietly. "I run the kitchen rotations."
Marcus nodded to her. "Show her the routine. Make sure she understands her place."
With that, he left, his heavy footsteps echoing down the stone corridor.
Elena stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. For a moment, we studied each other in silence former Luna and omega servant, enemy and reluctant ally.
"You're younger than I expected," Elena said finally.
"And you're kinder than I deserve."
She smiled sadly. "We've all fallen from somewhere, child. The only difference is how far we had to drop."
There was a story there, I could tell, but I didn't press. In this place, everyone carried their own burdens.
"The others will be difficult," Elena continued, settling onto the room's single chair. "Many lost family to Bloodfang raids over the years. Your presence... it opens old wounds."
"I understand."
"Do you?" Her eyes sharpened slightly. "Because understanding and surviving are two different things. The alphas may have granted you sanctuary, but down here, you're just another mouth to feed. And if you can't pull your weight..."
She didn't need to finish the threat. Resources were always scarce among the servants, and someone who couldn't contribute would quickly become a liability no one could afford.
"I can work," I said firmly. "Whatever needs doing."
Elena nodded approvingly. "Good. We'll start you in the kitchens tomorrow dawn shift. Tonight, you rest and try not to provoke anyone."
She rose to leave, then paused at the doorway. "A word of advice? Keep your head down and your mouth shut for the first few weeks. Let them get used to seeing you before you start trying to prove yourself."
Sound advice, though it grated against every instinct I possessed. I had spent months in Bloodfang swallowing my pride, accepting humiliation in silence. The thought of doing it again here, among enemies who had even more reason to despise me, was almost unbearable.
But survival required sacrifice. And I intended to survive.
Elena left me alone with my thoughts and the bundle of rough clothes. The garments were simple wool pants, cotton shirts, sturdy boots that had clearly belonged to someone else before me. The fabric was coarse against my skin, a far cry from the silks and velvets I had worn as Luna.
I changed quickly, folding my torn dress and placing it in the small chest. It was ruined beyond repair, but somehow I couldn't bear to discard it entirely. It was the last remnant of my former life, evidence that I had once been more than just another servant.
A knock at the door interrupted my brooding. I opened it to find a young woman perhaps twenty summers old, with dark hair braided back and suspicious brown eyes.
"You're the Bloodfang spy," she said without preamble.
"Former Luna," I corrected automatically, then winced at how pompous it sounded.
The woman snorted. "Right. I'm Lyra. I run messages and do odd jobs around the compound."
Another omega, then, though she carried herself with more confidence than her station typically allowed.
"Elena sent me to show you the washing facilities," Lyra continued. "Though I'd rather dump you in the river myself."
Her hostility was expected, but still stung. "I'm not a spy," I said quietly.
"Maybe. Maybe not. But you're still Bloodfang scum who killed my brother in your raids two summers past."
The words hit like a physical blow. I had heard reports of border skirmishes, of casualties on both sides, but they had always been numbers in reports, abstract concepts rather than real people with families and loved ones.
"I'm sorry," I said, meaning it.
"Keep your sorrows," Lyra spat. "They won't bring him back."
She turned and stalked away, leaving me to follow or remain lost in the maze of corridors. I hurried after her, my new boots echoing on the stone floors.
The washing facilities were communal a large room with multiple basins, heated by a central fire that kept the water from freezing in winter. Several other servants were using the space, their conversations dying as soon as they spotted me.
"There," Lyra pointed to an empty basin in the corner. "Stay away from the others until they decide whether you're worth tolerating."
More sound advice delivered with venom. I nodded my thanks and moved to the indicated basin, acutely aware of the stares following my every movement.
As I washed the dirt and exhaustion from my skin, I listened to the conversations around me. Gossip, mostly whose turn it was for the worst duty shifts, which of the higher-ranking wolves had been particularly demanding lately, speculation about upcoming raids or territorial disputes.
But underneath it all, I heard the deeper currents of pack life. These wolves cared for each other despite their low status, forming bonds of loyalty and mutual protection that reminded me painfully of what I had lost.
" heard she glows like moonfire when she's angry " someone whispered behind me.
I froze, my hands stilling in the warm water. How could they possibly know about the power that had freed me from my cell?
" complete nonsense, obviously. Bloodfang desperation, making up stories about their precious Luna "
" Marcus saw it himself during the interrogation. Said her eyes lit up silver when Agatha pressed too hard "
Had my power manifested during the morning's questioning? I thought I had kept it contained, buried beneath layers of exhaustion and fear. But perhaps something had leaked through despite my efforts.
" dangerous, if true. Power like that could tear apart pack bonds "
" or forge new ones. Depends who's wielding it "
The conversations shifted as someone new entered the washing room, and I was left with fragments of speculation and half-formed fears. If the servants were already talking about supernatural abilities, how long before word reached the pack leadership?
And what would Darius do if he learned I carried power that could potentially threaten his authority?
I finished washing quickly and returned to my quarters, my mind spinning with new worries. The small room felt like a cell again, though at least this one lacked iron bars.
Through the narrow window, I could see the compound's training grounds, where wolves in human and shifted forms practiced combat maneuvers. Their movements were fluid, deadly, speaking of years of discipline and battlefield experience.
Among them, I caught glimpses of Darius directing exercises, his commands sharp and precise. Even wounded, he commanded absolute attention from his warriors. They followed his orders without question, their loyalty evident in every gesture.
What would it be like to earn such devotion through strength rather than politics? To lead wolves who chose to follow rather than those compelled by duty or circumstance?
The thought was dangerous, and I pushed it aside. I was a servant now, nothing more. My days of leadership were over, buried beneath accusations of treason and the wreckage of my mate bond.
But as darkness fell over the compound and the sounds of training faded to evening quiet, I felt the power stirring beneath my skin once more. It pulsed gently, like a second heartbeat, reminding me that whatever I had been was not necessarily what I would become.
Tomorrow would bring kitchen duty, suspicious stares, and the grinding routine of servant life. But tonight, in the privacy of my small room, I allowed myself to remember what it felt like to be more than just another broken wolf seeking shelter.
The bond mark on my wrist remained dark, but I could feel something building behind it. Something patient and powerful and utterly unlike the mate connection I had shared with Kael.
Perhaps Elena was right. Perhaps we had all fallen from somewhere.
The question was whether I would stay down, or find a way to rise again.