"Mom, I'm back," I called as I stepped inside. "Where are the pastries and ice cream? I'm home."
"It took you long enough," Mrs. Lara said, wiping her hands on her apron. "Let me guess,you stopped by Oren's."
"I just stepped in," I said quickly. "I didn't stay long. I only wanted to see him."
Mom studied me closely. "You really like Orion, don't you?"
"Well… I do," I admitted, a shy warmth creeping into my voice.
She sighed. "As long as you're happy.
While coming back from buying flour for the pastries today" Her expression darkened. "I think I saw Orion earlier… with wolf guards."
My heart skipped. "Wolf guards?"
"Yes," she continued. "The way they were talking and laughing it didn't sit right with me. Wolves and humans don't interact that way in Dark Heaven City."
"You must be mistaken, Mom," I said gently. "Orion is human. I've known him for two years. I've never seen him shift or show any sign of being a wolf. He's kind. Gentle. Wolves aren't like that."
Mom hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Maybe you're right Emma. Maybe I imagined it."
She handed me the basket. "Alright. Hurry and make the deliveries. Be careful. Avoid the wolves."
Even at twenty-four, she never failed to remind me.
I mounted my bike.Dad got me, balancing the basket of pastries as I pedaled through the outskirts of the human quarters where we lived. Walking would take too long ,the deliveries were far away so biking was my only choice.
One by one, I completed the deliveries.
Just one more left.
I was about to turn back home when I heard it.
The noise.
Not the ordinary noise of the market or the distant chatter of humans but a harsh, violent ruckus that made my blood run cold.
Wolf guards.
"There she is!" someone shouted.
"There she is!"
Panic surged through me. Confused, I slowed my bike and slipped into the crowd, hiding among the humans to see who the unfortunate victim was
the one about to be executed.
It wasn't a new thing for humans anymore.
We learned to bow our heads and stay silent while watching our loved ones disappear in the blink of an eye. No screams. No resistance. Just quiet acceptance because resistance only hastened death.
From where I stood, the screams grew louder.
The footsteps drew closer.
Fear coursed through my body as my mother's words echoed in my mind: Avoid wolves. They can never be trusted.
When I finally lifted my head, I was already surrounded.
Wolf guards.
The last pastry delivery slipped from my hands and crashed onto the ground. I remained seated on my bike, frozen, confusion clouding my mind. Then one of the guards stepped forward. He held a paper in his hand, a painting.
He raised it to my face.
Not aggressively. Not hurriedly.
As though measuring my features against the image.
His gaze flicked from the portrait…
to my eyes…
back to the portrait again.
The other guards shifted uneasily, their movements tense, waiting. Anticipating. Their eyes were wide, alert waiting for a command.
Silence stretched.
Then he spoke.
"She's the one."
My heart leapt violently in my chest.
The one?
What did I do?
What crime had I committed?
I wanted to speak, to ask, to beg but fear sealed my lips shut. Around us, the humans watched with knowing eyes. The way they stared told me everything.
My fate had already been decided.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as my thoughts spiraled.
What about Mom? What about Dad? What will happen to them?
I hadn't done anything wrong. Had I?
As one of the guards reached for me,I stepped down from my bike and it crashed to the ground. My helmet followed. I wasn't dragged. I wasn't beaten. Instead, a line of black luxury vehicles waited nearby, engines humming softly.
Convoys.
Whenever the lead guard spoke, the others obeyed instantly. Every movement confirmed his authority. All eyes, human eyes were fixed on me as I stood there, unable to move, my legs trembling beneath me.
"Enter, my lady," he said.
The car door opened.
The words struck me harder than chains ever could.
This wasn't how criminals were treated.
Yet the palace guards were here for me so whatever I was now, innocence no longer mattered. I was automatically termed a criminal.
My legs shook as I stepped into the luxurious vehicle. I had only ever seen cars like this from a distance—symbols of power, privilege, and the wolves' dominance.
This was the King's transport.
Perhaps I was the first human to ever sit inside it.
The door shut beside me with a heavy click.
My heart raced wildly as the car began to move. I tried to steady myself, to breathe, but my body refused to obey. No one spoke. No explanation was given.
The vehicle drove off, carrying me away from the only life I had ever known.
And I had no idea what awaited me at the palace.
It didn't take long for whispers to spread.
The news reached my parents quickly, carried on fearful tongues and trembling glances. At first, they doubted it. They prayed it was a mistake, a cruel rumor. But fear still drove them to the spot where I had last been seen.
When my adoptive mother saw the pastry box lying broken on the ground, my bike abandoned beside it, my helmet tossed carelessly away, something inside her shattered.
She screamed.
It wasn't a cry—it was a roar, like a woman whose world had just ended.
"Emma!" she called, screaming my name again and again, as if her voice alone could bring me back.
My father held her, trying to steady her trembling body, whispering words of comfort he himself did not believe. She collapsed into him, sobbing uncontrollably.
The entire human quarter stood frozen in fear and silence, waiting dreading to hear my unwritten fate.
In the end, my parents took my bike home.
That night was the gloomiest our house had ever known.
My mother cried without pause, grief ripping through her after everything she had done to keep me hidden, to keep me safe. After all her sacrifices, I had still been discovered.
My father tried to stay strong, but he too was silently breaking apart.
Until they were summoned to the human court .They could do nothing,but pray for me.
No one dared step into the palace unless summoned by the Alpha King himself.