The day stretched long with endless chores, each one more humiliating than the last.
Selene had expected the burden of being Luna to come with responsibilities — traditions, ceremonies, some measure of respect. But instead, she had been handed a mop and a bucket, barked at like a scullery maid, and ignored by every wolf who passed her by.
She carried trays heavier than they needed to be, scrubbed soot from the great hearth, and was tasked with polishing weapons in the training hall she wasn't even allowed to step foot into without supervision.
No one thanked her.
No one acknowledged her.
She was the Luna in name only — a ghost dressed in human skin, floating from one task to the next under watchful, judging eyes.
By evening, her hands ached from overuse, her feet blistered from ill-fitted shoes and constant motion. Her palms were reddened and sore. The edges of her nails were stained dark with ash and soap. But worse than the physical pain was the ache in her chest — the slow, dull throb of being seen and still unwanted.
The kitchen mistress finally waved her off with a disapproving sneer.
"Go," the woman snapped. "You're in the way more than you're helping."
The words stung more than they should have. Selene lowered her gaze, offered a nod, and turned away before the shame rising in her throat could betray her.
She didn't need to be told twice.
The hallways of the Mooncrest estate stretched before her like a maze, wide and dark and lined with cold stone. She wandered without destination, too restless to return to the cold, lonely room that had become her prison. The silence of it would be worse than the laughter. At least the laughter had voices.
Her fingers trailed along the stone wall as she walked, breathing in the musty scent of dust and old wood. Shadows shifted around her, cast by flickering torchlight. Her ears strained for sound, though she wasn't sure what she was listening for.
Curiosity tugged at her — a dangerous, reckless thing — but tonight, she didn't care.
Tonight, her pride felt threadbare, her soul scraped raw. She was already so far outside the life she thought she'd have. What was one more risk?
As she rounded a corner near the back of the estate, she heard it — a low, pained groan.
Selene froze, breath caught in her throat.
Another groan, louder this time. The sound was unmistakably human, but strained, hoarse — not the groan of someone simply tired or wounded. This was deeper. Private. Desperate.
Without thinking, she crept forward, pressing herself against the wall.
The hallway beyond was empty… but the door to Kael's study stood slightly ajar.
Light spilled from the gap like liquid gold.
She leaned closer, careful not to make a sound, and peered inside.
Kael was on his knees. One hand braced against the floor. The other clutched tightly to his side. His shoulders trembled. His body swayed with effort. The firelight flickered across his skin, catching on the sweat that glistened along his brow and jaw.
Selene's breath caught.
She had never seen him like this.
Kael was strength incarnate — cold, ruthless, unbreakable. A storm in human form. His presence filled every room like thunder.
But now… he looked broken.
His face was twisted in pain, his eyes squeezed shut. Every breath he drew sounded like it was being torn from his lungs.
For a moment, Selene hesitated. A flicker of caution rose in her.
She could walk away.
Pretend she had seen nothing. It would be safer. It would be smarter.
But something rooted her to the spot — an aching pull she couldn't name.
A memory surfaced unbidden: the night before, lying in that too-large bed, staring at the ceiling while tears dried on her cheeks.
The silence that wrapped around her like a shroud.
And now, here he was — the source of that pain — reduced to something almost human.
She wanted to run to him, to help him, to press a cloth to his sweating brow or whisper that he wasn't alone. But fear held her fast — fear of Kael's anger, fear of crossing lines she didn't understand, fear of revealing her own soft heart to the one person who would not hesitate to crush it.
Still, she couldn't look away.
He looked like a god brought low — fury and fragility twisted into something raw and terrible.
Her eyes traced the length of his spine, the taut curve of his shoulder, the clenched muscles in his jaw. He looked like he was fighting something — not a wound, not an injury, but a war deep inside his own skin.
Had the mighty Alpha of Mooncrest really allowed himself to fall this far?
Suddenly, Kael's head snapped up. His eyes — bright silver and wild — locked on the door.
"Who's there?" he snarled, his voice hoarse but full of bite.
Selene's heart leapt into her throat. She stumbled back, breath catching in her chest.
He shoved himself upright, staggering slightly as he reached for the door.
Selene barely managed to slip into a side hallway before he burst from the study.
She pressed herself into the shadows, hands shaking, her back flat against the cold stone.
Kael stood in the doorway, his chest heaving, his posture unsteady. He glanced left, then right, his gaze sharp and searching.
She held her breath.
His body still trembled faintly — like something inside him hadn't fully settled.
With a low growl of frustration, he limped away, disappearing into the darkness.
Selene remained frozen for several long minutes. The hammering of her heart was deafening in her ears.
What had she just witnessed?
What was wrong with him?
Why was the mighty Alpha hiding it from his pack?
She replayed the image in her mind — the tension in his shoulders, the pain etched into every line of his face. That wasn't just a wound. That wasn't exhaustion.
A cold knot settled in her stomach.
This was no simple illness. It wasn't something Kael could just shake off.
Whatever curse or affliction he was hiding — it had to be more than just physical. The power in that room had felt… wrong. Warped.
And the way he fought it — like a man trying to hold back the tide with bare hands — said enough.
There had to be more.
Her breath caught again, her thoughts tumbling faster than she could keep up.
Why did she care?
Why had she stayed?
What would she even do with this knowledge?
She should have walked away the moment she saw the door ajar. She should've kept her head down. She was nothing to him — a pawn, a duty, an unwanted bond.
But still.
She'd seen him suffer.
And she couldn't forget it.
Even as she turned away, the sound of his stagger echoed down the corridor, dragging behind it the weight of a secret too heavy for one man to carry.
Selene slipped back through the halls like a shadow, keeping to the edges, head down.
She reached her room without seeing a single soul. The fire had burned low. The bed was still made from the morning, untouched.
She crossed the floor slowly, unsure if she was walking or drifting.
Her hands trembled as she closed the door behind her.
She leaned against it for a moment, her eyes closed, her thoughts spinning.
She wasn't supposed to care. She wasn't supposed to feel sorry for the Alpha. But somehow, his weakness had dug into her soul like a poisoned thorn, and she knew it would not be easy to pull out.
Something inside her had shifted tonight — and no matter how tightly she tried to shut the door on it, that shift had taken root.
Not pity.
Not yet trust.
But something.
Something dangerous.
And she couldn't stop it.