Opal pressed her back against the door, her heart pounding as she strained to hear every word from the guards stationed just outside. Her room was stifling, the air heavy with confinement and fear. She bit her lip, fighting the urge to scream. How had it come to this? A prisoner in a pack that was supposed to protect her.
The voices outside were muffled, but they carried a mocking edge that made Opal's skin crawl.
"She's a cute little thing, isn't she?" one of the guards said, his tone dripping with amusement.
Opal's jaw tightened, her nails digging into her palms. She felt a prickle of heat rush through her veins, the wolf inside her stirring restlessly. She wanted to tear the door open, confront them, show them exactly what she was capable of. But she couldn't afford to reveal that she was listening. Not yet.
The second guard laughed, a low, cruel sound. "Better watch your words. She's not of age yet."
"Close enough," the first guard replied, his voice nonchalant. "Besides, when has that ever stopped anyone around here?"
A cold shiver ran down Opal's spine. Her breath hitched, and she pressed her back harder against the door, trying to steady herself. The casual cruelty, the way they spoke about her as if she were nothing more than a piece of property—it made her stomach turn.
"I heard she's some kind of prodigy," the second guard continued. "Alpha's orders are to keep a close eye on her."
The first guard snorted. "Prodigy, huh? Doesn't look like much to me. Just another brat with a bad attitude."
Opal's blood boiled, her anger twisting into something darker, sharper. If only they knew. If only they understood who they were mocking. She was the daughter of an Alpha, a born fighter, a protector. Her brothers had always warned her to keep her strength hidden, to never reveal the full extent of her power unless absolutely necessary.
But this… this was testing every ounce of her control.
The guards continued talking, their voices carrying a sickening arrogance. "Think she's dangerous?"
"Nah. Just a scared little girl. Probably crying her eyes out right now, wishing for her brothers to save her."
Opal's fists shook, her vision blurring with hot tears she refused to let fall. They thought she was weak. Helpless. They had no idea who they were dealing with.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, startling her out of her rage. She pulled it out, her heart leaping as she saw Ridge's name on the screen.
Ridge:Everything okay? Heard anything new?
Opal's fingers flew over the screen, her anger fueling her words.
Opal:They're guarding me like a prisoner. Talking about me like I'm some object. I can't stay here, Ridge. I feel like I'm suffocating.
The reply was almost instant.
Ridge:Don't do anything reckless. We can't afford to draw attention. Just hang tight. Seventeen days. We're almost there.
Opal's shoulders slumped, the fire in her chest replaced by a cold, heavy weight. Seventeen days. It felt like a lifetime.
Opal:They think I'm weak. I want to show them they're wrong.
Ridge:And you will. But not yet. Stay smart, Opal. We need to survive this first.
She stared at his words, her vision swimming. She wanted to scream, to fight, to break down the door and make those guards choke on their arrogant laughter. But she could almost hear Ridge's voice, calm and steady, reminding her to be patient, to play the long game.
With a shaky breath, she slipped the phone back into her pocket and stood up. Her legs wobbled, but she steadied herself, squaring her shoulders. If they wanted her to be weak, she would play along. If they thought she was harmless, they would let their guard down.
And then she would strike.
A knock on her door made her flinch, her body going rigid. She forced herself to breathe, to appear calm. "Yes?"
"It's Elena. May I come in?"
Opal's heart unclenched, a wave of relief washing over her. Elena was the only one in this place who didn't make her feel like a prisoner. "Yes, please."
The door creaked open, and Elena stepped inside, a tray of food balanced in her hands. Her brown eyes were warm, sympathetic. "I thought you might be hungry."
Opal managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Elena. You're too good to me."
Elena set the tray down on the small table by the window, her gaze flicking to the guards outside before she shut the door firmly. "How are you holding up?"
Opal sank into the chair, her shoulders sagging. "I feel like I'm suffocating. They won't let me out. I can't even take a walk without being watched."
Elena's expression darkened. "I know. It's not right. But the Alpha's orders are absolute. No one's allowed near you without permission."
Opal hesitated, her eyes locking onto Elena's. "Do you know why? Why are they so afraid of me?"
Elena's lips pressed into a thin line. She glanced at the door, then leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "There are rumors. Whispers about you and your brothers. About some kind of prophecy."
Opal's heart skipped a beat. "What prophecy?"
Elena shook her head. "I don't know the details. But they say you're… special. That you and your brothers have power. Real power."
Opal's stomach twisted. She thought of the charm bracelet on her wrist, the symbols representing Ash, Brooks, Ridge, and Forrest. Her brothers, her protectors, her strength. If there was power, it was in their bond. In their unity.
But what did that have to do with being locked up like a criminal?
Elena stood up, her face pale. "Be careful, Opal. I don't know who to trust anymore. Not even the Alpha. If they believe you're a threat… they won't hesitate to get rid of you."
Opal swallowed, her mouth dry. "Why are you telling me this?"
Elena's eyes softened. "Because you deserve to know the truth. And because… you remind me of my sister. She was brave, like you. She fought back. And it cost her everything."
Opal's heart ached at the pain in Elena's voice. She reached out, squeezing her hand. "Thank you, Elena. For trusting me."
Elena pulled away, her face hardening. "Don't thank me yet. Just be smart. And stay alive."
She opened the door, her shoulders tense as she walked out. The guards barely glanced at her, their attention fixed on the hallway.
Opal stood there, her chest heaving as the truth settled over her like a shadow. They were afraid of her. Of her brothers. Of what they could become.
And that fear made them dangerous.
Her eyes drifted to the window, to the iron bars that mocked her, a reminder of her captivity. If she was going to survive this, she needed to be clever.
Seventeen days. That's how long she had to play their game. To gather information. To find a way out.
She wouldn't be their prisoner forever.
Because even the smallest wolf could bite. And Opal was ready to sink her teeth into anyone who stood in her way.
The hallway outside Opal's room was quiet, lit only by the soft gray light of dawn leaking through the high windows. Her feet moved softly over the cool wood floor as she descended the stairs, every step measured and silent. Sleep hadn't come, not really. Only a fog of exhaustion that blurred the hours and left her raw beneath the surface.
She wasn't alone in the sitting room.
Elena sat in the window alcove, her knees drawn up, a blanket draped around her shoulders. The edges of her dark curls glowed in the rising sunlight, and her eyes—sharp, haunted—stared out past the trees like she was watching ghosts walk by.
Opal paused at the doorway.
She hadn't spoken much to Elena since arriving. The other woman always seemed… guarded. Watchful. There, but somehow not. But something about the stillness of this morning made the silence between them feel softer. Less like distance. More like invitation.
"Elena," Opal said quietly. "Can't sleep either?"
Elena didn't turn her head, but her voice came out low and tired. "I don't sleep much anymore."
Opal walked over and sat across from her in the other chair. The cushion was cold, and she pulled her sweater tighter around her body.
"I keep thinking about my brothers," Opal said. "And this place. Something about it doesn't feel right."
Elena turned to face her then. Slowly. Her expression unreadable, but her eyes sharp.
"That's because it isn't right," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "None of it is."
Opal blinked. "What do you mean?"
Elena's fingers tightened on the edge of the blanket.
"This pack," she said slowly, "is rotting from the inside. Everyone walks around smiling and saluting like good little wolves, but it's just paint over blood. You've felt it, haven't you? That... tension. Like everyone's waiting for something to snap."
Opal nodded slowly.
"I've seen it happen," Elena continued. "How they treat anyone who isn't under Alpha Marcus's protection. The games they play. The control. The cruelty."
Opal's throat tightened. "Those guys from the training field—Gavin and the others. They make my skin crawl."
"They should." Elena's voice sharpened. "They're predators. They find a new girl to break every week. Sometimes two. No one stops them. Not the guards. Not the patrol captains. Not even Marcus."
Opal felt her stomach twist.
"Then why—" she started, but Elena cut her off.
"They haven't touched you," she said. "Because you're an alpha. And because they know who your father is."
Opal's breath caught.
Elena turned her head fully now, locking eyes with her. "They know if someone laid a finger on you, Alpha Griffin would burn this pack to the ground and salt the ashes. That's the only thing holding them back."
The weight of her words settled over Opal like frost.
"But if they're afraid of him," Opal asked, voice cracking slightly, "why do they still treat me like... like I'm nothing? Why am I being watched like a prisoner? Why is no one telling me anything?"
Elena looked at her for a long, heavy moment.
Then she leaned forward.
"Because there's more going on here than anyone realizes," she whispered. "And the people who do know? They're either too scared to speak or too twisted to care."
Opal's mind raced. "Are you saying Marcus is—?"
Elena shook her head. "I'm saying Marcus isn't the one pulling all the strings."
A beat passed.
Then another.
"I shouldn't be telling you this," Elena said, suddenly looking around like the walls had ears. "They'll come after me if they find out. But you deserve to know you're not imagining things. You're not weak. You're not paranoid. You're surrounded by wolves wearing masks."
Opal swallowed hard. Her heart was pounding, but not from fear. From fury.
All this time, she'd been walking around trying to keep her head down, trying to be respectful, to fit in. And all the while, something dark was festering underneath the rules, the tradition, the polished smiles.
"How do we stop it?" she asked.
Elena stared at her, something fierce flickering in her eyes. "We don't. Not yet. Not until we know exactly who the enemy is."
Opal looked down at her hands—small, trembling slightly.
But they were capable hands.
She could fight.
And she would.
But not blindly.
"I want to help," she said. "Tell me what you know. Show me where to look."
Elena nodded once. "Not tonight. But soon."
A sound echoed from upstairs—the creak of a floorboard. Too deliberate to be random.
They both went quiet.
Elena stood swiftly and pulled the blanket tight around her again. She started walking toward the hallway, but paused long enough to murmur, "Be careful. The enemy doesn't always knock."
And then she was gone.