"That night… fate didn't knock."
"It dragged me inside."
————————————————
It was, by all appearances, an ordinary day.
The sun rested lazily above the territory of the Silver Pack, its golden warmth spilling across rooftops, fields, and winding paths alike—touching everything with quiet gentleness.
Everything—
Except her.
Lily.
An omega by birth… yet treated as something far less than even that.
Within the Silver Pack, she had never known what it meant to belong. From the moment she could remember, her world had been defined not by care or affection, but by duty—endless, exhausting duty. Raised among other orphaned children, she had not grown as one of them, but beneath them… beneath everyone.
Her mornings began before the sun had fully risen, her small hands already occupied with chores far too heavy for her age. Cleaning, carrying, serving—always moving, always silent. Her presence was acknowledged only when something needed to be done, or when someone wished to remind her of her place.
Even among the other orphans, she remained different.
Not just in the way she looked—shorter, softer, her body a little heavier than the others—but in the way she endured.
Where others broke, she smiled.
Where others hardened, she hoped.
And perhaps that… was what made her the easiest target of all.
Mockery followed her like a second shadow, clinging to her steps no matter how quietly she tried to exist. Laughter, whispers, cruel words spoken just loud enough for her to hear—they were as familiar to her as her own breath.
And yet—
Even within all that—
Her heart still dreamed.
Because in merely four months' time… everything would change.
At least, that was what she told herself.
The day she would come of age.
The day the bond would awaken.
A mate.
The one soul destined to find her, to recognize her—not as a burden, not as a mistake—but as someone worthy of being chosen.
The thought lived inside her like a fragile flame.
Small.
Flickering.
But never extinguished.
And for that alone—
She endured everything.
---
That afternoon, when the weight of the pack finally loosened its hold on her for a brief moment, Lily slipped quietly toward the outskirts of the territory.
It was something she had learned to do without being noticed—moving carefully, blending into spaces where no one thought to look for her.
There, near the edge where the forest began, a few children had already gathered.
They were not kind.
But they tolerated her.
And for Lily, that was enough.
Because here—
She could laugh.
Even if only for a little while.
The forest greeted them with a soft rustle of leaves, the sunlight filtering through branches in scattered patterns that danced across the ground. The air felt fresher here, lighter, as though the weight of the pack could not fully reach this place.
For a while—
It almost felt normal.
They played.
Ran.
Spoke without fear.
And Lily, for a fleeting moment, forgot everything else.
But today—
Their steps did not stop where they usually did.
One path led to another.
Then another.
And without truly realizing it—
They wandered deeper.
Further than they had ever gone before.
The laughter faded slowly, replaced by something quieter… something uncertain.
The trees grew taller.
Older.
Their branches twisted in unnatural ways, blocking out more of the sunlight until only thin fragments remained.
The air changed.
Heavier.
Still.
As if the forest itself had stopped breathing.
The Forbidden Woods.
A place no one entered.
A place no one spoke of without lowering their voice.
A place where—
Something watched.
---
Far behind them, hidden within the shadows of the outer trees—
Two figures stood still.
Watching.
The Alpha's children.
Their expressions were not curious.
Nor concerned.
They were amused.
Coldly so.
The girl tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a slow, cruel smile as her eyes fixed on Lily's retreating figure.
"Look at her," she murmured softly, her voice laced with disdain. "That useless omega… wandering where she does not belong."
Her brother let out a quiet scoff, crossing his arms as he observed the scene with disinterest.
"Is she really thinks she's one of us," he muttered.
The girl's smile deepened.
"Let her go further," she said, almost thoughtfully. "The deeper she walks… the worse it becomes for her."
A brief pause.
Then—
"Father will want to hear about this."
There was no hesitation.
No doubt.
They turned.
And walked away.
Leaving Lily behind—
Unaware that something far more dangerous than the forest itself was already waiting for her return.
---
Ahead—
Lily continued walking.
Though now, something felt… different.
She couldn't explain it.
But she felt it.
The air pressed slightly against her chest, making each breath feel just a little heavier than before. The usual sounds of the forest—birds, insects, distant movement—had faded into an unnatural silence.
Her steps slowed.
Not out of fear—
But confusion.
"…Why is it so quiet?" one of the children whispered behind her, their voice barely more than a breath.
No one answered.
Because no one knew.
Then—
They saw it.
At first, it did not fully register.
It seemed like nothing more than a shadow between the trees.
But as they moved closer—
It took shape.
A house.
Or something that resembled one.
It stood crooked, as though time itself had tried—and failed—to bring it down. The wooden structure was darkened, aged beyond recognition, its surface almost entirely consumed by moss and creeping vines that wrapped around it like something alive.
Ferns curled along its edges, thick and tangled, as if guarding it from the outside world.
And from within—
A light flickered.
Weak.
Unsteady.
But undeniably there.
Alive.
---
One of the children froze.
His hand instinctively reached out, grabbing another's arm as his eyes widened in visible fear.
"We… we shouldn't be here," he whispered, his voice trembling uncontrollably. "This isn't just forest… this is that place…"
His breathing grew uneven.
"I heard… stories," he continued, swallowing hard. "About a witch… deep inside these woods. They say she doesn't die… doesn't age…"
His voice dropped further.
"…They say she takes it from others."
A shiver ran through the group.
"They say she eats souls… and no one who goes near her ever comes back the same."
The words settled heavily in the air.
And one by one—
The children began to step back.
Instinct.
Fear.
Survival.
All telling them the same thing.
Leave.
Now.
All except—
Lily.
She didn't move.
Her eyes remained fixed on the house.
Unblinking.
Unwavering.
As though the world around her had faded away completely.
Something inside her chest tightened.
Not in fear.
But in recognition.
A strange, unfamiliar pull—soft, yet impossible to ignore—wrapped around her thoughts, guiding her gaze, urging her forward.
It didn't feel like curiosity anymore.
It felt like…
Calling.
"I just want to see…" she murmured softly.
Her voice was distant.
Almost not her own.
Behind her, the others called out.
"Lily, don't—"
But she had already taken a step forward.
Then another.
The ground beneath her feet felt colder now.
Damp.
Unwelcoming.
Each step seemed heavier than the last, as though the forest itself was watching her approach… waiting for her to come closer.
Her heartbeat quickened.
Not from fear—
But from something she could not understand.
Until—
She stood before the door.
Close enough to see the cracks in the wood.
Close enough to feel the faint warmth of the flickering light inside.
For a brief moment—
She hesitated.
Her hand lifted slightly.
Then paused.
A quiet unease coiled deep within her chest, tightening slowly, as if something deep inside her was trying to warn her.
Don't.
But the feeling did not last.
Because something else—
Something stronger—
Pushed it away.
Slowly…
She began to turn.
Perhaps to call the others.
Perhaps to step back.
Perhaps—
To leave.
But she never got the chance.
Because in that very instant—
The darkness inside the house moved.
Not slowly.
Not gradually.
But suddenly.
A hand shot out from within.
Pale.
Thin.
Unnaturally cold.
It seized her wrist with a force that did not belong to something human.
Lily's breath caught instantly.
Her entire body froze, the world around her collapsing into silence as the grip tightened around her skin.
Cold.
So cold it burned.
Her heart slammed violently against her chest, her eyes widening in shock as she tried to pull back—
But she couldn't.
The grip did not loosen.
Did not shift.
It held her—
As though it had been waiting.
For her.
And from within the shadowed depths of that cursed house…
Something stirred.
Something that had been watching long before she arrived.
Something that had known—
She would come.
And now—
It had finally touched her.