I couldn’t possibly take a full bath now because it was already broad daybreak, and people were already up, moving about, and filling the courtyard with noise.
If I tried to walk out to the water spigot with my bucket now, I’d just be inviting a pack member to kick it out of my hands for the fun of it.
I decided to use a small piece of cloth soaked in lukewarm water from my inside jug to clean my body instead.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was a hell of a lot better than not having a bath at all after sweating through a feverish night.
Afterward, I brushed my teeth, working carefully around my swollen gums, and pulled out the medical items.
I used the ointment directly on my broken ribs, and the very moment the cool cream met my purple skin, I could feel an immediate, soothing relief radiating deep into my chest.
My mind would forever be completely twisted in confusion over it.
I didn’t know why Celia did what she did last night but I was forever grateful for the temporary reprieve.
My ribs still hurt like hell though, but this time around, the agony was actually manageable.
The ointment was already starting to work its magic, dulling the sharp, splintering edge of the fractures.
I weakly dressed up in my regular clothes, my muscles groaning, and turned around to head out the door.
But I stopped dead in my tracks.
I turned back around and stared down at the half-used tube of ointment and the clean rolls of white bandages.
I couldn’t possibly keep them out here in the open.
What if a warrior or another omega was to randomly come in here to dump trash and see them?
I was going to be immediately labeled a thief, accused of raiding the packhouse clinic, and beaten within an inch of my life.
I certainly couldn’t count on Celia to step forward and tell her father she was the one who had dropped it here.
She wouldn’t do me that favor.
Whatever strange ghost of a best friend had made her drop this here last night sure as hell wouldn’t be here to protect me today.
Moving with a shallow breath, I took the ointment and the bandages and hid them in the farthest, darkest corner of the rubbish in my room, burying them beneath a heavy pile of rusted car parts and old cardboard.
No one could ever guess that something valuable was hidden there, even if they tried looking.
I couldn’t trust a single soul in this pack with my privacy, talk less of my actual life.
As I stepped foot out of my room, I could literally hear the absolute chaos echoing from the main packhouse across the grounds.
The entire territory was already buzzing with a frantic, breathless activity.
Today was an all-hands-on-deck work day, a mandatory lockdown of chores.
Even the high-ranking members, the elites who usually spent their mornings lounging on velvet couches were actively cleaning and prepping for tomorrow.
I watched in silence as Beta Jackson’s personal guards were out mowing the grand lawns until the grass was perfectly level, while a group of senior warriors were actively sweeping every single dead leaf off the gravel driveway.
It was a fascinating sight to see.
The predators were suddenly acting like frantic servants.
The very moment I stepped foot into the kitchen, I genuinely thought I had walked into the wrong building.
There was no single breathing space left anywhere in the room.
Everyone was actively doing something, a blur of motion and shouting.
Some omegas were frantically cooking breakfast, others were scrubbing mountain-high piles of dishes, some were cutting vegetables with rapid thuds of their knives, and others were prepping elaborate baking trays.
But a massive, bubbling pot of meat sitting on the main industrial stove completely stole the show.
It was boiling over a high flame, and the rich, savory aroma was suffocating every square inch of the room.
I could feel the saliva instantly dripping from the corner of my mouth.
Damn, I was so fucking hungry.
My stomach shrank into a hard knot, and I knew very well that not a single one of them had saved me a plate from the morning breakfast.
As I started taking a slow step further inside the kitchen, a strange realization washed over me: nobody was paying any attention to me.
Even when I accidentally ran headfirst into a towering pack member carrying a crate of potatoes, she didn’t hit me or curse me out like she usually would.
She just gave me a rough nudge and told me to look where the hell I was going.
The sudden impact shot a hard, fast spike of pain straight through my ribs, making my vision blur for a second.
I was still in immense pain, but the physical hurt didn’t even matter at the moment.
I forced my spine to stand straight, a cold satisfaction settling in my chest.
I realized the pack’s focus was no longer on torturing me.
They were way too busy trying to save their own skin from the impending arrival.
Everyone was locked inside their own little bubbles of panic.
The normal, comforting breakfast smell of pancakes and bacon was entirely missing from the air today.
Apart from the heavy aroma of the boiling meat, the atmosphere reeked of harsh industrial bleach, ammonia, and the bitter, sour tang of nervous wolf sweat.
Suddenly, the Gamma entered the kitchen, his heavy boots clattering against the tile.
He was standing right by the dry pantry, holding a metal clipboard tightly in his grip and shouting out duties like a hardened drill sergeant.
He stopped dead when his eyes landed on me trying to slide past the counter.
He didn’t curse at me today; he didn’t have the spare time.
He just pointed a thick, visibly trembling finger toward the upper levels of the building.
“Ella, wing B and the grand dining hall,” the Gamma barked, his voice tight with an underlying anxiety.
“You’re on silver and mahogany duty.
Nobody else has the patience or the steady hand to do the micro-polishing today, so your hands are actually needed for once.
If the Blood Moon Alpha sees a single speck of dust on the tables tomorrow, it’s your head on a spike first.
Go!”
I nodded quickly, turning on my heel to leave the kitchen in the direction of wing B.
But when I reached the swinging doors, I realized I was going entirely empty-handed.
I had to turn right back around to grab the specific heavy crates of polish, steel wool, and rags I needed to work with before heading up the staircase.
My task for the day was monstrous.
I had to ensure every single inch of the exceptionally long dining tables was polished until you could see your reflection in the grain.
I had to dust the high timber rafters, scrape the old, dried candle wax off the stone floors, and make sure I personally attended to every single decorative table before the sun went down.
It was a massive task, but it was nothing I wasn’t already used to enduring.
Usually, the young pack warriors were dead asleep at this early hour, resting off their night patrols, but today, everyone was outside or in the corridors moving heavy oak crates, scrubbing silver weapons, and barking frantic orders at one another.
I had honestly thought it would be just me working in the dining wing, but I had no such luck.
There were already several lower-ranking warriors and omegas in the room when I stepped into the grand dining hall.
They were frantically fixing broken chairs, reinforcing tables that looked like they were about to crack under weight, and replacing the heavy draperies.
How I wished someone could fix my broken ribs and my swollen, purple eye with that much care, but even the inanimate wooden furniture in this house received better treatment than me.
I set my heavy bucket down in a dark corner near the head of the table, mixed up my cleaning ingredients in a small bowl, and immediately began working.
I couldn’t afford to waste a single minute of daylight.
I was quietly rubbing the chemical polish into the wood when I heard the warriors near the fireplace start to talk about the Blood Moon pack.
I wasn’t actively trying to eavesdrop on them or anything like that, but their voices were loud, chattering away with a reckless, frantic energy.
Come to think of it, they probably just assumed I was a stupid, invisible mute who didn’t matter anyway.
That was exactly why they were having this terrifying conversation openly right in front of my face.
“I heard he executed his own Beta last month,” a warrior said, his voice dropping slightly.
I think his name was Marcus.
He was scrubbing a silver candelabra so hard his knuckles were white.
“Just for arriving five minutes late to a critical strategy meeting.
The man doesn’t tolerate a single mistake from his inner circle.
Not one.”
“What, seriously?
How incredibly cruel is he?” Pete, my absolute favorite daily tormentor, replied.
His face was pale, his eyes darting toward the door as if checking for spies.
Cruel.
The word echoed in my mind, and I almost laughed right out loud.
I was genuinely surprised a monster like Pete even knew what that word meant.
Cruel was how badly he and his friends had been treating me for nine years.
Cruel was how they kept me starving, how they threw me into a freezing storage unit, and how they would continue to treat me as long as I lived under Alpha Richard’s thumb.
Empathy didn’t suit Pete at all, because he was a low-level monster himself.
The concept of mercy didn’t fit a single person in the Silver Ridge pack.
And for the absolute first time in my entire history, I found myself feeling very much excited for the Blood Moon Pack to get here.
I suddenly couldn’t wait for tomorrow to finally come.
My tormentors finally had their own giant, terrifying tormentor waiting at the gates.
What a great day to be alive.
“Imagine what a guy like that can do to us if we so much as accidentally offend him during dinner,” another warrior chimed in from across the room, his hands shaking as he adjusted a heavy banner on the wall.
Oh boy, I could already imagine it vividly, and I absolutely loved every single thought of it.
I hoped they spilled the wine.
I hoped they tripped.
Another wolf, who had been busy moving the heavy oak tables into a neat row, stopped what he was doing entirely and walked over to join the circle.
“I heard a rumor from the northern border guards.
They say he killed his own biological father just to claim the Alpha title ahead of his time.
Someone who can ruthlessly kill his own family…
what do you think he would do to an outside pack if he decides he doesn’t like our face?”
They all stopped talking all together, the silence dropping over them like a heavy shroud as if they were all trapped in deep, terrifying thoughts.
Looking at their pale, sweating faces almost made me laugh again.
It had been so long since I had felt that genuine bubble of wanting to laugh in this house.
Finally, someone talked at last, breaking the tense quiet.
“They call him the Lycan King’s executioner for a reason, man.
His wolf is rumored to be twice the physical size of Alpha Richard’s.
If our borders aren’t absolutely pristine when his convoy rolls in, he’ll claim our prime hunting grounds as an apology fee, and there won’t be a damn thing our Alpha and Council members can do about it.”
“I heard he took about five plots of fertile land from a pack he shares a western boundary with last winter,” Marcus added, leaning in closer.
“Just because he wanted to expand his training grounds.
The Alpha of that pack was hesitant to give up the land because they used it to grow their winter crops.
That was until Alpha Alexander personally threatened an all-out war against them.
Everyone knows the Blood Moon is the strongest pack in the entire world.
Even the High Priest Elders use his warriors to brutally deal with rogue uprisings.”
“No wonder the Council always supports his decisions, even when everyone knows he’s completely wrong,” Pete muttered, wiping his sweaty brow with the back of his sleeve.
“The guy is untouchable.”
“But have you heard the latest rumors about his mate?” another wolf whispered, his eyes wide.
“He still hasn’t found her.
He’s twenty-six and completely mateless.”
“Yeah, they say he was actually rejected once by his first fated mate years ago,” Marcus countered, lowering his voice to a harsh hiss.
“And ever since then, he hasn’t had a second-chance mate from the Moon Goddess.
Some people say the rejection turned his wolf entirely feral.
He rejects any female who even tries to look at him or scent him because he hates the very concept of a pair bond now.
Anyone who fails his standards gets instantly banished from his territory.”
Every single wolf in the world had a soulmate, a fated partner made just for them by the Moon Goddess herself.
We find our soulmates the moment we turn eighteen, through a sudden, undeniable recognition of their unique scent.
As I scrubbed the legs of the mahogany table, my heart gave a strange, hopeful thump.
I was really, desperately hoping that my fated mate wasn’t an absolute monster from this specific pack.
My eighteenth birthday was in exactly two days’ time.
The Blood Moon Pack being here was actually turning out to be a massive blessing for me.
With a terrifying tyrant occupying the house, Alpha Richard and his minions wouldn’t have the spare time to torment me, and I might actually get to enjoy my birthday in absolute peace for the first time in a long while.
“Well, I honestly don’t blame the she-wolf that rejected him back then,” Pete said, trying to puff out his chest to look brave.
“I can’t even imagine being paired with a crazy bastard like that.
He sounds like a walking death sentence.”
The other warriors all nodded their heads in quiet, nervous agreement.
As I watched them shake, argue, and stutter over every piece of gossip they had picked up from the borders, a powerful realization hit me.
These monsters who ruled my life were all nothing but absolute cowards.
They could beat a defenseless, wolf-less human girl, they could throw insults at an orphan, and they could feel powerful when their victim couldn’t fight back.
But the very second a bigger, badder monster like themselves showed up at the border, they practically pissed their pants and looked for a place to hide.They were completely pathetic.
“Hey!
Useless!” Pete’s voice suddenly cut through the air, his eyes snapping over to where I was kneeling by the table legs.
The coward was clearly trying to regain his sense of power by taking his anxiety out on me.
“Stop slacking and polish faster!
If Beta Jackson comes in here and sees a smudge on that mahogany, I’ll make sure your other eye matches the first one before lunch!”
I kept my face completely blank, tucked my chin tight against my chest, and resumed the rhythmic scrubbing of the wood.
Let him yell.
Let him sweat.
The clock was ticking down, and I couldn’t wait to see the monsters get exactly what they deserved.