The Warrior's Broken Mate

CHAPTER 2

As soon as I heard Father’s voice echoing down the corridor, a wave of fear gripped my chest. My heart raced—so violently I thought it might burst from my ribcage. Dizziness crept over me, blurring my vision.

“There’s someone locked behind this door,” the man said.

“Oh, her? She’s not worth worrying about. Just an omega who tidies up the place,” Seraphina replied effortlessly.

“I’d like to meet her,” the man pressed.

“That’s not an option,” Thorne interjected tersely. “She’s… unstable. A troubled girl who needs to be kept away from others.”

Sitting on the other side of the attic door, I caught every word of their conversation. My chest tightened; I should have predicted their contempt, but hearing them say it out loud stung sharp as a fresh cut. I fought the urge to scream that it wasn’t true—that I wasn’t broken or unstable. Was this the lie they fed to everyone? Did every guest already have my story written for me before they even glanced my way?

“That’s quite unfortunate,” the man remarked.

“Come now, Alpha Elias. You’re missing the entire celebration we’ve planned in your honor,” Seraphina coaxed.

Their voices gradually faded as they walked away. I let out a slow breath. Crawling back up the stairs to the cot that served as my bed, I finally relaxed. At least the party would last for hours; that meant I was safe—for now, at least. Exhaustion washed over me. After all the cooking and cleaning I’d done that day, it was a miracle I was still on my feet. I slipped beneath the thin covers and allowed myself to drift off once more.

I jerked awake to blurred vision. Thorne stood beside my bed, metal flashing in his hand. Before I could react, he struck.

Pain exploded—silver whip. Another strike. And again.

“I warned you never to speak to anyone,” he snarled.

“I didn’t! I just told him to leave. I didn’t even open the door. I swear!” I cried out, my voice shaky with fear.

"You spoke. That’s all it takes." Another lash.

“He said he could hear me! My breathing—my heartbeat!” I pleaded, desperate, knowing deep down it wouldn’t change anything.

Silver sliced deep; even werewolf healing couldn't help. Thorne whipped me until, breathless, he dropped the weapon.

“I should have gotten rid of you long ago,” he hissed. “Get downstairs. Make breakfast before our guests wake up.”

He turned and walked away, leaving me collapsed on the cot. My body screamed in agony. Every inch of my skin stung or bruised. I couldn't lie still. The pain was relentless.

Eventually, I sat up with a hiss, peeling off the torn dress that was now in tatters and stained with blood. I grabbed a baggy, grey dress that was a couple of sizes too big and quietly made my way down from the attic, careful not to be seen. I slipped through the hidden back stairwell that led to the kitchen.

The wall clock read 4:00 a.m. Not surprising. I had to get everything ready before the house came to life.

I started by preparing tea and coffee, setting up the drink table in the ballroom since it was the only room spacious enough to accommodate all the guests. Once that was done, I returned to the kitchen and began making breakfast—everything from scratch, as I always did.

I was halfway through cooking when cheerful voices drifted in from the ballroom. I didn’t recognize them. Still, their laughter and chatter made me imagine what it would be like to sit among them. Not as a servant, but as someone welcomed—a person who was seen.

Shortly after, Thorne and Seraphina arrived. A few moments later, she excused herself and entered the kitchen just as I pulled fresh muffins and croissants from the oven.

She didn’t say a word; instead, she stood there with her arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently while I arranged everything on trays. She wouldn’t dare risk being seen talking to me, especially not with Alpha Elias in the house, because revealing my role could create problems she wanted to avoid. He might recognize my voice.

“They’re training at dawn. Hurry up,” Seraphina hissed under her breath.

I scrambled to finish plating the eggs, placing the last of the trays on the counter just as the servers came in to carry everything out. Then I was quickly ushered out of sight. I crept up the servant stairwell, pausing to peek through the gaps in the wall. I couldn’t see anyone in the ballroom, but I could imagine it—their laughter filling the air, a world forever closed to me. Existing on the edge, I felt like a ghost haunting spaces where I’d never belong.

Seraphina had mentioned they’d train early, so maybe I’d catch a glimpse of them later.

There were always stories about the Vanguards Pack—how skilled they were in combat and how packs called upon them in times of crisis. They were legends, admired by everyone.

Once I was sure they had all headed out to the training grounds, I returned to the first floor to clean their rooms. I changed the bedding, set out fresh towels, and restocked toiletries. Thorne and Seraphina always ran the packhouse like a high-end inn when we had guests.

These warriors weren’t just passing through; they were staying for a while.

The last room I cleaned belonged to Alpha Elias—the same one who had talked to me through the attic door. I recognized his scent the moment I stepped inside: warm hazelnut and cinnamon. It made my head spin.

I lingered for a moment, breathing it in, before forcing myself back to work. His room had a private bathroom, so I changed the bedding, vacuumed the carpet, and went into the bathroom to replace the towels and restock supplies.

As I turned to leave the en-suite bathroom, I froze at the sound of voices drifting in from the hallway.

“Hang on a sec, man. I forgot something in my room,” a male voice called out casually, his tone light and easy.

Without thinking, I shut the bathroom door and locked it. My heart raced as I heard footsteps enter the room, then suddenly stop. It was as if he was standing perfectly still, just listening.

A sharp knock against the bathroom door startled me, making me flinch.

“Is someone in there?” he asked.

I hesitated, hoping he would simply walk away. But then I heard the handle jiggling as he tested it.

“You’re the same girl from the attic, aren’t you?” he asked, curiosity lacing his voice.

“Please,” I whispered, barely audible, “let me finish tidying up and I’ll be gone.”

“Open the door,” he said gently.

“I can’t,” I replied quickly. “You’re not supposed to see me.”

“But I want to,” he said, leaning his weight against the other side of the door.

“You can’t. I’m not allowed,” I insisted more firmly.

“Then what? Should I kick the door in?” he asked, his tone half-playful, half-serious, taking a step back.

“If you do,” I said, my voice trembling with determination, “I promise you’ll never see me again. Ever. I can’t risk them finding out.”

The silence that followed was so thick it felt like time had stopped. I held my breath, praying he would just leave. But then, after what felt like an eternity, I heard him return to the door, leaning against it again.

“At least tell me your name,” he coaxed gently. “That can’t be too much to ask.”

“I’m no one,” I responded automatically, reciting the only truth I’d been allowed to claim for years.

“I don’t believe that,” he said softly. “I think you’re someone. I want to know who that someone is.”

The sincerity in his voice sent a strange warmth into the hollow places inside me. Did he really mean that? Did he actually want to know who I was? No one ever asked. No one ever cared.

No one wants to know the girl who killed her own mother.

“I… I—” I began, unsure of what to say, when the sound of sharp heels clicking against the hardwood floor broke through my thoughts.

“Alpha Elias, there you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You weren’t at the training session,” Luna Seraphina’s smooth, calculated voice chimed in.

“I just needed to grab something from my room,” he replied easily, like nothing was amiss.