I ran away and fought the urge to look back. Fearing that if I looked back, I'd find the stranger running after me.
Even as my skin prickled with the weight of his gaze, hot and heavy between my shoulder blades, I didn't dare glance over my shoulder. My feet pounded across the garden path as I ran, heart hammering, dress tangled around my legs. Leaves scraped against my arms as I pushed past the hedges and rosebushes, breath catching in my throat.
The stranger stayed behind.
But the chill he left in my bones ran with me all the way to the back doors of the residence.
What was that howl?
What did the East Hill tower signal mean?
Were there intruders?
My thoughts spiraled, a whirlwind of panic as I slipped into the quiet halls. The music of the party was gone now, replaced by eerie silence. The laughter was gone. Just a heavy stillness that seemed to cling to the walls.
I didn't stop. I rushed through the dim corridors and climbed the stairs, taking them two at a time until I reached the familiar hall that led to my room. My fingers shook as I pushed open the door.
Safe.
I stepped inside, closed the door behind me, and finally let myself collapse.
My knees hit the floor beside the bed, the cold wooden boards grounding me for the first time tonight. I pressed my palms against them and tried to breathe.
The door creaked open, and I jumped.
"Miss Vivien?"
Stella's soft voice filled the room a second before her small form slipped inside. She held a mug in both hands, steam curling from it.
"There you are!" she gasped, relief flooding her face. "I came by to give you warm milk before bed, but you weren't here. I was worried something happened."
She shut the door behind her and stepped closer, crouching beside me. "Are you hurt? What happened? You're so pale."
I shook my head quickly. "I'm fine. I just… needed air."
It wasn't a lie. But it wasn't the whole truth either.
Stella looked at me with that sweet, worried expression of hers. I couldn't tell her about the masked man. Not when I didn't even understand who he was.
"Is everything alright in the ballroom?" I asked instead.
She hesitated. That told me enough.
"Stella?" I pressed.
She looked down, then shook her head.
"Why was there a signal from the East Hill tower?" I asked, my voice lower now, tighter.
"I overheard some of the guards talking in the kitchen." She kept her tone hushed, like saying the words too loud might make them worse. "There are intruders in town. Rogues. From the Undercity."
I stared at her.
The words didn't sink in at first.
The Undercity?
"You're sure?" I whispered.
She nodded. "That's what they said."
The Undercity.
I'd only ever heard of it in whispers. An underground territory carved out in the forgotten parts of the northern region. A vast, shadowed place where no laws existed. A place for banished wolves, criminals, rebels.
They didn't live by the rules of the Unified Alliance. Didn't believe in order or peace. And they were feared for a reason.
Stella siad, "I should let you rest. The Alpha will take care of things so you shouldn't worry. We are safe here. Please try to sleep, Miss Vivien."
I nodded, but I didn't move until she was gone.
Only when the door closed behind her did I stand and walk toward the window.
The moonlight poured over the garden below as I saw warriors shifting in the ground. They didn't pause. The moment their paws hit the grass, they bolted toward the shadows.
They were moving fast.
I placed a hand on the glass, my thoughts racing again.
Chaos had been spreading across the region for years now. Trouble wasn't caused solely by Undercity though, because even without their involvement, rogue wolves popped up in every direction. Small packs trying to take territory, assassinate leaders, ignite unrest. They were rebels. Outlaws. The Unified Alliance had fought hard to suppress them, but the cracks were showing.
The Unified Alliance was the system that bound all the civilized packs together. It was built on rules, bloodlines, and strength. But not everyone agreed with how they governed. Not everyone wanted peace.
The chaos was growing.
It was the reason why our pack's council pushed Finn to have an heir.
I remembered the council's voices in the council house where I used to be a servant.
"If anything happens to the Alpha…"
"The Alpha's line must continue."
"We cannot risk leaving the pack leaderless."
That's why they pushed for an heir.
Finn didn't want to take a mate yet. He had been waiting for the Celestial Wolf to awaken – a divine she-wolf sleeping in the Undersea Tower.
And the best solution? Find a breeder.
I wasn't chosen because I was strong. Or special. I was chosen because I was disposable.
As I stood at the window, watching the last of the warriors disappear into the trees, I began to worry about my mother.
She was living in the town now. The Levian council had granted her a house when I was chosen as the breeder. An act of "compensation," they'd called it. A gesture to honor the bond between Alpha and lineage, or some noble-sounding excuse.
But I know they didn't give her that house out of kindness. They gave it to fulfill some archaic rule tucked away in the pack's breeding protocols. To make it look like I had been given something in return for being… used.
Morning came with grey light and a hollow kind of quiet. I hadn't slept much, only drifted in and out of uneasy dreams filled with silver masks and howls that never stopped. When I finally sat up, my heart still felt heavy in my chest.
A soft knock came at the door before Stella entered, balancing a tray of food and warm tea.
"Good morning, Miss Vivien," she said gently, setting the tray on the small table by the window.
"Morning," I mumbled.
She gave me a hopeful look. "I brought your breakfast. Mulberry jam and honeyed toast."
I managed a small smile and took the cup of tea first. "Stella, do you know anything new? About last night?"
She paused while smoothing the wrinkles from the blanket. "The guards are talking again. I overheard them say that by the time our warriors arrived in the town, the rogues were gone. There were no casualties, fortunately. No one was harmed."
My shoulders slumped in relief. I hadn't realized how tight my chest had been until that moment.
No bloodshed and my mother was safe.
"Thank the Goddess," I whispered.
But after a few seconds, my brows furrowed. "What did the rogues do, then? They are from Undercity. They must have done something."
"I don't know much. Most maids don't know anything as well. All we hear are bits and pieces from the guards' idle chatter."
Her words faded into the background as another thought crept in.
The masked stranger from last night.
His voice, smooth but sharp. His accusing eyes. The way he asked if I'd lured him on purpose, if Finn was aware of his presence. He knew Finn. That much was clear. And yet it seemed he didn't want Finn to know he was here.
It makes me think that he wasn't supposed to be present in the party at all.
Could his appearance be connected to the rogues from the Undercity?