Mornings in the pack house were always the same at least, that's how they sounded. Laughter bounced off the walls, sharp and careless, and the crash of dishes carried the same easy rhythm as breathing. Voices overlapped in a storm of warmth she had never truly belonged to.
She stood at the edge of it all, clutching her mug too tightly, pretending the noise was comforting. Once, she'd believed this chaos was home. Now it was a reminder of how fragile it all was, of how easily they had broken her before life handed her another chance.
For Elena, silence was safer.
She slipped into the kitchen as quietly as she could, her hair falling across her face like a shield. But it didn't matter—eyes still found her. They always did.
"The mute girl," someone muttered under their breath.
"She doesn't belong here."
Snickers followed, sharp as daggers. Elena ignored them, sliding into her seat and fixing her gaze on the food in front of her. Words would not defend her. She had none to give. Her silence had long ago become both curse and armor.
Mia, her foster sister, sat beside her, shooting glares at the others to shut them up. She was the only one who ever did.
Elena forced herself to eat, though her stomach twisted tight. Her old injuries ached this morning, more than usual. A warning she couldn't explain.
The room buzzed with chatter again, but beneath it all, she felt it—like the shift in the air before a storm. Heavy. Charged.
"Elena?" Mia whispered, eyes darting to the door. "He's here."
"Who?" she wondered silently.
The doors to the hall opened.
Alpha Lorenzo walked inside.
---
The air seemed to thicken. Conversations died, laughter cut short, forks clattered against plates. Everyone's attention shifted without a word, drawn by an invisible pull.
Even the atmosphere felt different,sharper, heavier, charged with an energy she couldn't name.
Around her, she felt it too the weight pressing against her chest, making her pulse quicken. The very air seemed to shift, electric and dangerous, like the moment before lightning strikes. Presence. Authority. And the reminder that no matter how far she'd come, she was still just one word away from being cast out again.
He was everything the whispers said. Tall, broad-shouldered, expensive clothes tailored perfectly to his frame. His features were sharp and commanding, his dark eyes intense enough to make her breath catch. Confidence radiated from him like heat, dangerous and magnetic.
---
Elena's throat tightened, warmth flooding her face until it was hard to swallow. She dropped her gaze, lashes sweeping down in practiced submission, though the tremor in her fingers betrayed her. She raised her cup anyway, forcing the porcelain against her lips as if it could shield her.
But his presence pressed heavier than the steam curling from her drink. His eyes were there on her, seeing through her laying her bare. Watching. Judging. And she hated that some part of her waited for his verdict.
The world seemed to slow. His stare held her in place, unblinking, unreadable. There was no smile, no warmth only the weight of being truly seen in a way that made her feel completely exposed.
Whispers rippled through the room. Some dared to glance between them, confusion flickering in their eyes. Why was he looking at *her*?
Elena's throat burned. She lowered her gaze quickly, forcing her hand to stay steady as she lifted her cup. But she could still feel it his eyes on her. Watching. Measuring. Deciding.
The tension didn't ease until Lorenzo finally looked away, walking past the tables without acknowledging anyone. Heads turned to follow his movement. The doors closed behind him, and only then did the room seem to breathe again.
"Elena," Mia whispered urgently, gripping her arm. "Did you see that? He was staring right at you."
Elena shook her head quickly, forcing a small smile she didn't feel. *No. Don't say it. Don't even think about it,* she thought to herself.
But deep inside, something stirred uneasily, something quiet,something unknown.
And for the first time in years, Elena wished she could find her voice to scream.