The Cursed Alpha's Fifth Luna

Lady Gina pushed open the heavy wooden doors to the servants’ sleeping hall. The familiar hum of conversation washed over her for only a heartbeat before dying completely. The scrape of chairs echoed through the room as every maid hurried to her feet.

"Matron."

Heads bowed in perfect unison. Some lowered their eyes immediately. Others stole quick, curious glances toward the unfamiliar young woman standing behind Lady Gina before remembering themselves and looking back down.

Lady Gina acknowledged the greeting with a small nod before stepping fully into the hall. Sabrina followed a step behind. Her swollen cheek still throbbed where Lady Gina had struck her. Her fingers tightened around the strap of the travel bag hanging from her shoulder until the leather creaked beneath her grip. She kept her head lowered.

Lady Gina allowed her gaze to travel slowly across the room. The servants stood in orderly rows between their beds.

"This is Sabrina." She stepped slightly to one side, exposing fully the young woman behind her.

Their gazes shifted. Some eyes widened with curiosity. Others lingered on Sabrina’s expensive dress, her polished boots, and the delicate hands that had clearly never scrubbed a floor in their lives.

"She is the newest maid in the Pack House."

Sabrina’s stomach twisted as bile rose up her throat. The words struck harder than the slap. Newest maid. She, the daughter of a Lord, was reduced to a common maid. Her nails dug painfully into her palms as she gritted her teeth.

"She’ll be working in the laundry." Lady Gina looked around the hall. "Where is Cynthia, the head servant?"

The maids exchanged uncertain looks, low murmurs spreading through the hall before quickly dying. Finally, one servant stepped forward.

"I’ll go get her, Matron."

Lady Gina gave a single nod. "Hurry."

The girl hurried from the hall, nearly tripping over her own feet in her haste.

The room settled back into silence. No one dared speak, but Sabrina could feel their eyes. She resisted the urge to shift beneath their stares as the minutes crawled by.

Outside, hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor. The servant returned, slightly out of breath, followed closely by a tall young woman who looked to be in her late twenties. Loose strands of chestnut hair had escaped her braid, and there was a faint dusting of flour across the sleeve of her simple dress, as though she’d been interrupted in the middle of another task.

The moment she entered, she bowed deeply. "Matron."

Lady Gina gestured toward Sabrina. "She’ll be joining the laundry department."

The young woman straightened before finally looking at Sabrina. Her brows lifted almost imperceptibly for only a second, then her expression smoothed.

Lady Gina continued, "You’ll teach her the work..." Her eyes drifted toward Sabrina. "...and basic manners."

Several of the girls exchanged quick glances. One hid a smile; another lowered her head to conceal an amused grin.

"She’s one of those spoiled children from wealthy families," Lady Gina continued.

This time, no one bothered pretending not to look. Curiosity openly flickered across the room. Sabrina kept her eyes fixed stubbornly on the floor as heat crawled up her neck.

"If she causes any trouble, report to me immediately."

"Yes, Matron." Cynthia lowered her head respectfully.

Lady Gina gave one final glance toward Sabrina, then she turned and walked toward the doors. Her footsteps echoed through the hall. The doors opened, then closed.

For one long heartbeat, there was nothing. And then whispers filled the room as the girls gossiped among themselves while they watched her.

Sabrina slowly lifted her head and glared at them. "What?" she spat. Her sharp voice cut cleanly through the whispers. "What are you all staring at?"

Silence. Every servant froze. For one brief moment, no one moved.

Then, laughter burst through the hall. One of the girls stepped away from the others, amusement dancing openly in her eyes.

"The Matron was right." She folded her arms across her chest. "You really are one of those spoiled rich girls." She stopped directly in front of Sabrina. Tilting her head, she looked Sabrina up and down with open curiosity. "So tell me... what brings daddy’s little princess here?"

Sabrina’s gaze swept slowly across the hall and landed on the girl. "What do you want?" Her voice came out colder than she intended.

The room stared at her for a heartbeat, and then another ripple of laughter spread through the hall.

"Don’t you think she looks like the Luna?" another servant said, walking to where she stood.

"Yes!" another echoed behind her. "I hear the Luna has a sister who looks like her. Are you the one?"

Sabrina’s jaw tightened until it ached. "I don’t look anything like her," she spat.

"Now, now." A warm voice interrupted before anyone else could respond. Cynthia stepped between Sabrina and the others with an easy smile. "Let’s not frighten the new girl on her first day."

The room gradually quietened. Some of the servants returned to their beds, though more than a few continued watching with open curiosity.

The young woman stopped in front of Sabrina. "What was your name again?"

Sabrina lifted her chin a fraction higher, refusing to appear冒intimidated. "Sabrina."

The woman smiled and nodded once. "That’s right. Sabrina. Welcome to the Pack House." She gestured toward the others with an easy sweep of her hand. "Don’t let them scare you. They bark a lot more than they bite."

A few servants laughed.

"You’ll only answer to me..." She paused. "...and the Matron."

Sabrina remained silent.

"The elderly lady who brought you here," the woman clarified. "Lady Gina."

Sabrina gave a stiff nod. "Okay."

Cynthia’s smile lingered, yet her eyes drifted downward, settling on Sabrina’s hands neatly folded in front of her. The fingers were long and slender, the nails clean and carefully trimmed. Not a single rough patch marked her skin.

Cynthia looked back up. For the briefest moment, something flickered across her face before her smile returned.

"Come." She turned toward the far end of the hall. "I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping."

Without waiting to see whether Sabrina followed, she started walking. After the slightest hesitation, Sabrina adjusted the strap of her bag and followed.

The room parted for them. The other maids stepped aside, creating a narrow path between the rows of beds. As Sabrina walked past, conversations resumed in hushed voices. Not quiet enough, though; she caught fragments.

"...must’ve angered someone important..."

"...she really does resemble the Luna..."

"...wonder how long she’ll last..."

Sabrina kept her head high as she pretended not to hear a word they were saying.

The servants’ hall stretched farther than she had expected. Long rows of sturdy wooden bunk beds lined both walls from one end of the room to the other. Blankets were folded neatly at the foot of each mattress. Small wooden chests rested beneath the lower bunks, their lids scratched and worn from years of use. A handful of dresses hung neatly from hooks driven into the timber walls. The faint scent of soap lingered in the air, mingling with fresh linen, damp wood, and the lingering aroma of the evening meal.

Cynthia continued walking. The farther they went, the quieter the room became. The laughter behind them faded into distant murmurs. One by one, the occupied bunks disappeared until only a handful remained near the back wall.

Sabrina frowned. There were no empty beds left. She glanced around again. Surely Cynthia hadn’t brought her all the way here by mistake.

Finally, Cynthia stopped. "In here."

Sabrina’s eyes followed the direction of her hand, and her breath caught.

Nestled against the far corner of the hall, squeezed between the wall and the last bunk, lay a thin mattress spread directly across the wooden floor. Nothing more. No bed frame. No blanket chest. No small table. No pillow worth mentioning. Just a faded mattress so thin she could almost see the hard planks beneath it.

For several long seconds, Sabrina simply stared. Surely... surely this wasn’t...

Cynthia smiled pleasantly. "There." She pointed again. "That’s your bed."