Layla hadn't planned to leave her room that morning. Not really. As she was tired from the day's training. But the noise pulled her out, the faint chatter, doors creaking open, engines humming in the distance. Not the usual quiet hum of pack life she had grown used to. Not like the crescent moon pack was ever quiet but this was different.
The Crescent Moon pack grounds were... busier. No, alive.
She stepped outside slowly, arms crossed over her chest, eyes scanning the scene. Dozens of unfamiliar faces. Cars lined up at the far end of the compound, more than she had ever seen here. Wolves in training uniforms. Others in casual clothes. Laughter. Barked instructions. Someone hauling boxes.
She blinked, unsure. Was something wrong?
"Hey," a voice called.
Layla turned stiffly. A young man who was tall, toned, with warm brown skin and sharp eyes and had just gotten out of a black SUV. He slung a duffel bag over his shoulder, watching her with casual interest.
"Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?" he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.
"I…" she hesitated. "It's just… I haven't seen this many people here. Ever."
"Oh." He laughed — not mockingly, just amused. "First-timer, huh?"
He took a few steps closer, extending a hand. "Nikos. I'm usually stationed in the southern perimeter, so I don't think we've met."
Layla stared at his hand for a moment before taking it, her grip light.
"Layla," she said softly.
Nikos tilted his head. A glint of recognition flashed across his eyes.
"Oh, Layla," he said with a slow smirk, pulling his hand back. "The infamous wolfless wolf."
Her spine straightened immediately, fingers twitching.
He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey — no offense. It's just… word gets around."
Layla didn't respond.
But her silence was louder than words.
"Well," Nikos cleared his throat, tone shifting. "Welcome to Conference Day. Happens every few moons. Everyone reports in, the scouts, border guards, finance wolves, even the bored rich ones with too much hair gel. The Alpha gives a full report. Boring stuff."
He pointed toward the gathering crowd. "You'll need to attend. First timers are usually asked to stand in front. Not to freak you out or anything."
"Great," she muttered.
He chuckled again and turned to walk away. "Don't worry," he tossed over his shoulder, "I don't bite… unless you ask nicely."
Layla stood there, cheeks burning, breath caught somewhere between annoyance and anxiety.
The infamous wolfless wolf.
So that's what they called her now.
She went upstairs to change into something more presentable—not that what she was wearing before wasn't—but the nerves from attending the conference nudged her toward the comfort of something familiar.
Then, after minutes of fiddling with the hem of her dress, she finally stepped out of her room.
Blending into the crowd, she followed as they made their way toward the hall where the conference would take place.
As she followed the stream of people, her feet faltered when they veered into a narrow, cobbled path she hadn't noticed before, partially hidden by thick hedges and the natural curve of the landscape. The crowd turned past a tall wrought-iron gate she'd never been allowed near, and there it stood.
Tucked behind rows of training halls and administrative buildings was a structure unlike any she had seen within Crescent Moon. It rose with quiet majesty, almost concealed by towering evergreens that seemed to guard it like sentinels. Made of dark stone and sleek black glass, the building exuded an air of restraint, not flashy, but undeniably powerful.
The symbol of the Crescent Moon Pack was carved into the arch above the door, almost glowing against the stone. Unlike the communal areas she was used to, this place felt off-limits, sacred even.
She hadn't known this part of the pack existed. And now, standing before it, dressed more neatly than she felt, she realized this wasn't just a meeting.
It was an entrance.
The iron doors creaked open with surprising silence, revealing a wide corridor bathed in warm, golden light. It wasn't what she expected — no grand chandeliers or royal decadence — but the simplicity carried its own weight.
Polished wooden floors stretched out beneath her feet, and high arched ceilings gave the space a cathedral-like stillness. Murmured conversations echoed softly against the stone walls, their low tones adding to the atmosphere of quiet authority.
Portraits lined the walls, former alphas, maybe, their sharp eyes following her every move as if judging her presence. At the far end of the hall, two double doors stood ajar, revealing the edges of a larger chamber within.
This was similar to her old pack but at the same time different.
She swallowed hard.
Inside was where the real pack stood. The voices, the decisions, the ones who mattered.
And she was just a girl without a wolf, trying not to be noticed.
Still, her feet moved forward, even if her heart lagged behind.
Layla slipped into the hall, careful to stay close to the edges, her eyes scanning the rows of people already seated in semi-circular arrangements. The hum of chatter buzzed around her, layered voices, greetings, soft laughter. It was nothing like the cold, sharp silence of Nightfang.
She spotted an empty seat toward the back, right beside a small group of four. They were already deep in conversation, two girls and two guys, all around her age, maybe older. For a second, she debated sitting elsewhere, but her legs had already taken her there.
As she sat, one of the girls glanced her way and smiled, not the kind that stretched too wide to be real, but a curious, genuine one.
"You're the new girl, right? Layla?" the girl asked, adjusting in her seat to face her better.
Layla blinked. She wasn't used to being addressed directly, let alone kindly. "Yes… I mean, yeah."
"I'm Janet," the girl offered, then nodded to the others. "That's Enzo, Liam, and Delia. We were just arguing about who actually pays the most in stipends, the warriors or out-of-packers."
"Oh please," Marek rolled his eyes, leaning back. "Warriors. They always pay more because they're trying to impress the Alpha."
"You mean intimidate the Alpha," Enzo shot back with a grin.
The group chuckled, and Layla found herself smiling, just slightly.
"The out-of-packers always pay more," someone at the end said. "They feel guilty for not doing border patrol."
"Or they're trying to stay in the Alpha's good graces without getting their hands dirty," another piped in, rolling their eyes.
Layla gave a small laugh, surprising herself.
Janet nudged her gently. "What do you think, Layla? You've been here what…a month now? Any guesses?"
Caught off guard, Layla opened her mouth, then closed it. "I—I don't really know. I've never even thought about it."
"That's the best kind of answer," Delia laughed. "It means you're honest."
For a moment, Layla forgot the room. Forgot the stares. The claws. The silence of her old life.
Here, she was just a girl with no wolf, being asked for her opinion.
And that was new.
The chatter dulled to a hush. Heavy footsteps echoed in the hall.
He walked in, tall, unreadable, silent. The kind of presence that didn't need words to command attention.
Layla's gaze drifted toward him, drawn like a moth to a flame she didn't ask for.
Someone beside her leaned in, their voice barely above a whisper,
"That's Alpha Dorian."
Her heart skipped.
The name was sharp, like it had been carved into her soul before she ever heard it.
Layla froze.
She didn't know why.
Maybe it was the way the room seemed to shift around him.
Maybe it was how his silence felt familiar… like something buried deep inside her.
Or maybe it was the ache, the part of her that knew the storm was only just beginning.
Dorian
She finally knows his name.....