Evelyn's POV
When I woke, my cheek was pressed against something cold and hard.
For a few seconds, I didn't move. My head felt heavy, as if my thoughts were trying to swim through thick, black syrup. I blinked into the darkness, a darkness so complete that it seemed to have weight, pressing down on me.
The air was damp. The floor beneath me felt like stone. My fingers brushed over faint cracks and patches on the floor.
Where…?
I pushed myself up slowly, my body protesting every movement. My head throbbed. My tongue felt dry and thick in my mouth.
And then I remembered.
The cup. The bitter drink. My uncle's bruised face. His smile.
"I would sell you even to the feared and legendary Demon Wolf himself…"
The words hit me all over again, the nausea rising as the pieces fell into place.
He'd sold me.
To the ShadowFang pack.
I closed my eyes, willing the dizziness to fade. Everyone knew about the werewolves, you couldn't grow up in our world without knowing. They weren't myths. They weren't fairy tales. They were superior in every sense of the word, faster, stronger, sharper. A different breed of predator.
Humans had communities. Wolves had packs.
And the packs ruled.
I could still hear my father's voice from years ago, his tone grave in the firelight. "They could wipe us out if they wanted to, Evelyn. All of us. The only reason they don't is because they need us."
We were workers. Money makers. The wolves didn't need to dig, or farm, or run the countless businesses humans bled themselves dry in. But they could profit from it, and so they built their towering casinos, their luxury hotels, their glittering businesses in every human community, siphoning money from us by the millions.
And now… I was theirs.
On any other day, the idea of leaving my uncle's house, that rotting, suffocating prison, would have been a victory. Freedom.
But how could I call it freedom when my uncle was still alive and breathing somewhere out there? Walking around without chains while I was here.
I had dreamt of escape for years. But this.… this was just another cage.
The heavy sound of a bolt sliding back yanked me from my thoughts.
The door swung open, spilling a thin slice of light across the floor.
A woman stepped inside, short, middle-aged, her hair pulled back tight enough to strain the skin at her temples. In one hand, she held a whip, coiled loosely but ready.
Her eyes raked over me, and her mouth twisted into a smirk.
"You're the new human girl, right?" Her voice was sharp, clipped. "Well, what are you still doing on the floor? Did you expect a red carpet welcome into the ShadowFang pack?"
I stayed where I was, my knees aching from the cold stone.
She took a step closer, her boots striking the ground with purpose. "Well? Get on your toes and move before I whip your stinking human ass."
The whip twitched in her grip like it was eager.
"The Alpha is holding a banquet tonight," she said, almost lazily, "and there's loads of work to do. Now move."
I pushed myself up slowly, my body still sluggish from whatever was in that drink. The woman with the whip didn't wait for me to find my balance, she was already halfway down the hallway, barking over her shoulder.
I followed her, my bare feet slapping against polished floors.
The moment we stepped outside, I froze.
The air was… different. Cleaner, sharper, like the cold had teeth. It had been so long since I'd stepped out of my uncle's house that the very act of breathing this air felt strange, almost unnatural.
The Alpha's estate stretched before me like something out of another world. It wasn't just a house, it was a sprawling mansion that seemed to merge into the land itself, with tall walls, stone towers, and courtyards wide enough to swallow the street I used to live on.
The ground was busy with movement.
Tall, broad shouldered men with weapons strapped to their backs, warriors, I guessed, strode with heavy, purposeful steps. Servants darted back and forth, their heads down, carrying baskets, trays, and folded linens. Everyone moved quickly, with an urgency that made me feel even smaller than I already did.
I wondered if this was normal for them. Or was something about today different?
The woman with the whip didn't stop to explain. She led me through a narrow back door tucked between two tall stone columns. The moment we stepped inside, the rich scent of bread, meat, and herbs slammed into me.
We had entered a huge kitchen, bigger than my uncle's entire house. Long tables ran from one wall to the other, every inch of space covered with flour, bowls, and wooden boards. Girls, human girls like me, I guessed, moved among them, their hands working dough, peeling vegetables, stirring huge pots. They looked tired, their faces pale, shoulders hunched as though their bodies were carrying more weight than just the baskets in their hands.
A taller, plumper woman stood at the far side of the room, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail. Her presence filled the space as much as the heat from the ovens. Her sharp eyes caught me instantly.
"Is that the new girl?" she called, her voice carrying over the clatter of dishes.
"Yes," the woman I had followed replied without breaking stride.
"Good. We need more hands as it is," the plump woman said briskly.
"I'll leave her to you, then." The whip woman turned and left without another word.
The taller woman began walking toward me, her steps heavy but sure. When she stood in front of me, her size and confidence made the room feel even smaller.
"My name is Madam Nora," she said, her voice low but stern "I don't care about whatever kind of life you've lived with your fellow weak humans. Here, you are merely a lowly servant who works under me in the kitchen. You have no opinion here, and you have no say in anything. You only do what you are told and then you live like you don't exist. Is that clear?"
I nodded once, my throat too dry to speak.
"If I speak, you reply with yes, Madam Nora. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Madam Nora," I said softly.
Her eyes narrowed, but she turned away, waving a hand toward a group of girls kneading pale mounds of dough on a long wooden table.
"Now go over there and join the girls in kneading the flour. It's almost nightfall, and we have a long way to go."
I took a step toward them.
"Wash your hands first, dimwit," Madam Nora barked, making my shoulders tense. "We don't eat dirty food over here."
One of the girls kneading glanced up, her expression unreadable. She jerked her chin toward a metal tap fixed to the wall.
I walked over, turned the handle, and let the cold water run over my fingers.
I returned to the table after washing my hands, the dampness still clinging to my skin. The dough was heavy and warm beneath my fingers as I began kneading alongside the other girls. Madam Nora hovered like a storm cloud above everyone in the kitchen, her voice cutting through the air with sharp, impatient barks.
"Faster! Do you want to ruin everything? Nothing must go wrong tonight!" she snapped, pacing between the workstations, her eyes catching every small movement like a hawk.
I kept my head down, focusing on the steady press and fold of the dough, until a voice near me whispered
"Hey… my name's Lisa. What's yours?"
I glanced sideways. It was the same girl who'd pointed out the tap earlier, her hands moving rhythmically through the dough.
"Evelyn," I murmured back.
The other two girls kneading beside us looked up briefly, curiosity flickering in their eyes.
"I'm Clara," said the one with short, cropped hair, her voice quick and quiet.
"Rose," the other added, barely above a breath, like she wasn't sure if speaking was allowed.
I hesitated before asking, "So… what exactly is going on tonight? Why all this rush?"
It was Clara who answered first, though her voice carried a strange heaviness. "The Alpha… has invited him to the pack. And he's coming tonight."
I frowned. "Him? Who is him?"
The three girls exchanged a look I couldn't quite read, but it wasn't just fear. It was the kind of dread that settled in the bones, the kind that made their hands falter mid-knead before quickly resuming.
Rose's lips pressed into a thin line, like the words were too dangerous to say. Clara shook her head slightly, avoiding my gaze.
Finally, Lisa leaned closer, her eyes darting to Madam Nora to make sure she was out of earshot. Her whisper was so faint I almost missed it.
"They say he's…. not like other wolves, everyone fears him, even the Alphas. They say when you look at him, it's like staring into the eyes of something that enjoys the way you suffer. He kills without mercy… and without reason. And if he doesn't kill you…" Her voice dropped even lower, trembling now. "…he'll take your body, a lustful beast he is."
I felt the air in my lungs turn heavy.
Lisa swallowed hard, her hands gripping the dough like it was the only thing anchoring her. Her eyes flickered with something between horror and fascination as she finally breathed the words, barely audible....
"The Demon Wolf, he's the one coming here, tonight"