The Alpha's Stolen Luna

Kaya

As expected, there’s no response.

Frowning, I knock again, harder this time, the sound echoing down the quiet hallway. But still—nothing. Not even the faintest shuffle from behind the door.

I don’t know why disappointment pricks at me. It’s not like Shelly and I have never been close. We were never friends—not in Dark Wood, not before last night. If anything, the only thing tying us together is the hell we both barely survived. Just because we shared the same nightmare doesn’t mean we’ve suddenly become allies.

So why does her silence bother me?

With a quiet sigh, I turn away. Maybe I’ll try again later. Or maybe nothing will change, and we’ll continue as we always have—strangers forced into each other’s orbit.

But before I can take a single step, the door flies open, and a hand—surprisingly strong—grabs my wrist and yanks me inside.

"Goddess!" I gasp, but before I can utter another word, I’m shoved against the wall, the door slamming shut behind me.

"Shh!" Shelly hisses, her palm pressing over my mouth.

My breath stutters as my wide eyes adjust to the dim room. Unlike Magnus’s lavish bedroom, Shelly’s space is far simpler—white walls, pastel-colored furniture, nothing extravagant. Yet with the heavy curtains drawn tightly shut, not even a sliver of daylight seeps through. The air feels thick, stagnant, as though the room has been swallowed by perpetual night.

_{fre\e(w)ebn ov.e l\. co.m}

Shelly’s narrowed eyes flick over me, scanning me from head to toe, searching—for what? When she finds nothing, she finally locks her gaze onto mine, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"You don’t seem hurt," Shelly mutters, stepping back and pulling her hand away from my mouth. Her sharp gaze lingers on me for a second longer before she asks, "Where are you staying?"