Ghosts in the Shadows

The basement of the Blood Moon packhouse did not know the warmth of the sun. It knew only the damp chill of stone, the scent of mildew, and the heavy, suffocating weight of silence.

​Aria Winters pressed her back against the roughest corner of the wall, drawing her knees tightly to her chest. She pulled her tattered, oversized grey sweater over her shins, trying to cover the expanse of pale, unblemished skin that marked her as an outcast.

​In a pack of grey, brown, and midnight-black wolves, Aria was an anomaly. A mistake.

​She was an albino. Her hair fell around her shoulders in a curtain of stark, snow-white strands, completely devoid of pigment. Her skin was so translucent that the faint blue tracks of her veins showed beneath the surface, and her eyes—the ultimate brand of her curse—were a piercing, unsettling shade of crimson. To the Blood Moon Pack, she wasn't just an Omega. She was an omen of bad luck, a blight on the lineage of a proud warrior family.

​"Look at it," a voice sneered from the top of the wooden stairs.

​Aria flinched, her body tensing automatically. The heavy thud of combat boots echoed on the steps, vibrating through the floorboards. She didn't need to look up to know who it was. The scent of ozone and sharp, aggressive cedar belonged to Ethan, her older brother.

​Except, he hadn't called her his sister in over ten years.

​Ethan kicked a rusted metal bowl across the floor. It clattered violently against the stone, stopping a few inches from Aria’s bare feet. Inside was nothing but dirty water and a few stale crusts of moldering bread.

​"Alpha Jaxon demands the packhouse be pristine for the Selection Ceremony tomorrow," Ethan barked, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto her white hair. He spat on the ground. "Get up, freak. If the Alpha catches so much as a single white hair on the carpets upstairs, I’ll make sure the enforcers use the silver-tipped whips on you again. Do you understand me?"

​Aria kept her eyes lowered, staring at the dirt beneath her fingernails. Her voice was a raspy whisper, unused for days. "Yes, Ethan."

​"That’s Enforcer Winters to you, Omega," he snapped, stepping forward to plant the heel of his boot firmly onto her hand.

​Aria gasped, biting her lower lip so hard it bled to keep from screaming. She could feel the bones in her fingers grinding together under his weight. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, venomous hiss. "Mom and Dad are ashamed to even walk through the village because of you. Tomorrow, Jaxon chooses his Luna, and our family will be elevated to the Alpha’s inner circle. Don't ruin this for us, or I'll kill you myself."

​He lifted his boot, leaving a dark, muddy print across her pale skin, and turned on his heel. The heavy basement door slammed shut above, plunging Aria back into the suffocating darkness.

​She clutched her throbbing hand to her chest, a single tear slipping from her crimson eyes. She didn't pray to the Moon Goddess for strength anymore. She only prayed for invisibility.

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