Serpent—Eyed Luna

Emerson POV“Pack weirdo,” Nicholas barked. “Get me a glass of water.”The command echoed through the enormous lounge, bouncing off marble floors and gilded walls polished to a shine I would never belong to.Nicholas — our Alpha — didn’t look at me like a brother. He looked at me like something unpleasant he’d scraped off his boot and forgotten to clean.I lifted my head from my palm, where it had been buried for hours, my thoughts heavy and unmoving like stone. My legs ached from running errands for him all morning. Small tasks. Meaningless tasks. The kind given to remind someone of their place.I moved anyway.Hesitation only made things worse. It always had.As I crossed the room, my heart slammed violently against my ribs, instinct screaming before my mind could catch up. I had learned long ago to listen to that instinct. It had kept me alive this long.I poured the water carefully, hands steady despite the tight knot in my chest. When I turned back, Nicholas’s gaze was already on

Emerson POVThe mansion loomed before me like a silent judge.It rose from the earth in dark stone and glass, sharp angles cutting into the night sky as if it had been carved to intimidate rather than welcome. Warm light glowed behind tall windows, but it didn’t soften the place—it only made the shadows deeper.Alpha Ryder stepped inside without hesitation.I followed more slowly, my feet dragging as though the marble beneath them had turned to ice. The doors closed behind us with a low, final sound, and my chest tightened.Everywhere I looked, I felt eyes on me.My skin prickled, dread crawling up my spine, my pulse hammering in my ears.I swallowed hard.Then I realized it wasn't eyes.Statues lined the walls on both sides of the corridor, carved wolves frozen mid-snarl and mid-howl, their stone gazes sharp and merciless. They were massive, ancient, each one different, as if they had once been alive and captured in the moment of their rage.My breath left me in a rush.They’re judgi

Emerson POVI woke to silence.Not the hollow quiet of abandonment, but the kind that pressed gently against my senses—measured, restrained. The bed beneath me was warm, the sheets impossibly soft against my skin.For a moment, I didn’t move.Then memory returned in sharp fragments—the drink, the spinning lights, Ryder’s voice cutting through the noise, his arms around me as the world fell apart.I pushed myself upright slowly, my head throbbing but clear enough to think.This wasn’t my room.Sunlight filtered through tall windows, catching on dark wooden beams and stone walls etched with subtle carvings. Everything about the space felt deliberate. Controlled.Safe, my wolf murmured, surprisingly certain.I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, grounding myself against the cool floor.The door opened quietly.Monaco stepped inside, his expression carefully neutral. He paused when he saw me awake.“You’re up earlier than expected,” he said.“What happened?” I asked immediately.His j