Chapter 83
Kira’s heart hammered against her ribs like a wild thing trying to break free. The moment those glowing red eyes had locked onto hers in the dark bathroom corridor, every instinct she possessed screamed danger. She hadn’t stayed to find out what was staring at her. She had bolted.
She had turned and ran blindly down the restroom corridor, her heels clicking frantically against the floor until she kicked them off, desperate for speed, lifting up the long fabric of her evening dress that was tangling around her legs. Behind her, the heavy thud of paws echoed, accompanied by a low, wet panting that grew closer with every stride.
She did not dare look back. Her lungs burned as she shoved through the first door she found, praying it would lead somewhere safe.
The room beyond was pitch black, the kind of darkness that pressed in on all sides and stole the breath from her chest. Still she ran, arms outstretched, fingertips grazing walls and furniture she could not see. The creature followed, its breaths ragged, filling the space with a presence that made her skin crawl.
As she ran, she wondered if this was some sick joke. Was one of the Lunas trying to scare her? Was this their way of proving she was only a wolfless girl unfit to be their queen?
But the icy dread pooling in her stomach told her otherwise. This felt wrong, deeper than a prank, heavier than mischief. From the second she had stepped into this pack house earlier that evening, an unease had settled over her. Something in the air had felt off, charged, as though the walls themselves were watching.
Tears blurred her vision now, hot and overwhelming, spilling down her cheeks as she gasped for air. She had left her phone at the banquet table, useless.
“Derek, please,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she almost tripped on a low stool. “Please notice that something is wrong. Please find me p>
She said it like a prayer, over and over, but the cold reality hit her just as hard as the darkness. Only true mates could sense each other’s panic through the bond. She and Derek were not mates.
No matter how tightly he had gripped her hand earlier or how his eyes had lingered on her across the hall, that connection simply did not exist between them.
She had lost all sense of direction in the dark. The corridors twisted and turned in the blackout, and she kept running blindly, hoping against hope that she would crash into someone, anyone, who could help. Her shoulder slammed into a corner, sending a jolt of pain through her arm, but she pushed on, breath coming in short bursts.
Then, without warning, the lights flared back to life.
Kira stumbled to a halt, blinking against the sudden brightness. She stood in the centre of the pack house’s enormous kitchen.
Pots and pans lay haphazadly on the islands, towels and food lay abandoned on the floor, a pot was still simmering on a stove, and a knife lay abandoned on a cutting board. The room was deserted. No servants hurried between stations, no staff wiped down surfaces. It was as though everyone had been chased away in a hurry.
Her gaze darted across the long central island, and her entire body stiffened.
There, on the opposite side, stood the thing that had been chasing her. A wolf.
Her brows furrowed in a moment of confusion. A wolf? Here? This was Lycan territory. No werewolf would dare enter a Lycan King’s feast uninvited, and certainly not in their beast form.
But the longer she stared, the more she realised this was no ordinary wolf. It was larger than any werewolf she had ever seen in the Moonfang pack. Its dark fur blended into the shadows cast by the counters. But it was the eyes that truly terrified her. They didn’t just glow; there was a swirl in them, like fire dancing in a deep, dark pit.
When the creature bared its fangs in a silent snarl, the sight sent ice shooting down her spine.
This isn’t possible, Kira thought, her blood turning to ice.
Unless p>
The word formed in her thoughts.
Umbra.
Her stomach churned violently. She knew the stories. Everyone in their world did. Umbras were not mere beasts; they were something darker, something that could slip into a pack undetected, wearing the faces of the dead. Panic flared hot and sharp inside her chest, stealing what little breath she had left.
She did not hesitate. Kira darted towards the nearest door at the far end of the kitchen. She wrenched the door open, slipped through, and slammed it shut behind her, fingers fumbling with the lock until it clicked into place. Her heart raced so loudly she could feel it in her throat.
The door opened onto a narrow staircase leading upwards. Dim emergency lights cast long shadows on the walls. She had barely taken two steps when she spotted a girl hurrying down towards her, eyes wide with fear.
“It’s in the kitchen!” Kira screeched, her voice raw with urgency. “There’s something— a wolf p>
The young woman let out a soft whimper of defeat, shoulders slumping. “Rogues are everywhere in the house,” she whispered, voice trembling. “They came so fast… we couldn’t p>
She did not finish as a loud bang on the door interrupted her. The girl ducked beneath the staircase, gesturing frantically for Kira to follow. “This way. Quick p>
Another loud bang rattled the kitchen door behind them, the lock straining under the force. Kira’s pulse spiked. She scrambled after the servant, crouching low as they moved through the tight space beneath the stairs.
“Is there another way back to the banquet hall?” Kira asked, voice hushed. “I need to get to my husband. He’ll p>
The servant did not slow. She pushed open a smaller, almost hidden door set into the wall. “Follow me,” she said insistently.
Cool night air rushed in as they emerged outside, at the very edge of the woods that bordered the pack house grounds. The trees were tall and silent, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. Kira’s skin prickled at the sudden chill, but she didn’t have time to feel the cold.
As they stepped out, another Umbra materialised from the corner of the stone house, its red eyes locking onto them.
“Run!” the girl gasped. She grabbed Kira’s arm and began pulling her towards the treeline. “This way p>
Kira followed, feet slipping on damp grass, her mind still reeling. The woods grew thicker around them, moonlight filtering weakly through the canopy, casting dappled shadows that danced across the ground.
“What happened?” she demanded as they plunged deeper into the woods, branches catching on her dress, scratching her arms, leaves and twigs crunching beneath their feet. “Where are the Alphas? Why aren’t the guards fighting? I need to go back. I need to get to Derek p>
The girl’s grip tightened. “Just follow me,” the servant repeated.
Kira slowed down for a fraction of a second. Something in the servant’s tone felt wrong, too insistent, too focused. A cold realization began to click in her mind, layering over her panic. She remembered the old warnings about the Umbras, how they could kill and assume the shape of their victims, how they could mimic the scent, the face, and the voice of anyone they took. Her blood ran cold.
She looked down at the hand gripping her arm. It didn’t belong to a frightened servant trying to help. This girl isn’t a servant.
She was not being led to safety.
She was being led away.