The shock on my face quickly shifted to dread and then to anger as I caught sight of Alexander standing at the side, a grin tugging at his lips.
He had dodged my attack, skillfully, almost mockingly—and instead, my sneaker had slammed right into the head of someone who happened to be walking into his home at that exact moment.
"I'm so sorry!" I blurted, rushing forward. The guy staggered back, one hand clutching his head as if in pain.
My breath caught when he pulled his hand away and I saw blood streaking down his forehead.
"Oh my gosh!" I gasped, covering my mouth.
How could a simple sneaker cause that much damage? I hadn't even thrown it with real force.
"I'm really sorry," I stuttered again, guilt clawing at me. "I meant to throw it at him..." I shot Alexander a glare, my voice rising, "...but he dodged it."
Alexander only smirked wider, clearly entertained.
The injured man finally looked at me, his eyes dark and sharp. His lip curled, and his voice dripped with sarcasm. "It seems like your guest wants to destroy my face."
My cheeks burned, and I stammered helplessly, "I—I didn't mean to—"
But the man cut me off, ignoring my panic. His sharp, red eyes locked on Alexander instead. "You didn't tell me you'd be bringing someone back home." His tone was cold, laced with irritation. He glanced at me briefly before letting out a dismissive hiss, as if my presence alone offended him.
"It seems the red moon's effect is already wearing off," Alexander remarked casually, clicking his tongue as he inspected the gash on the man's forehead.
I glared harder at him, but before I could say anything, Alexander continued, "You shouldn't worry about him. The wound will close in about…" He trailed off deliberately, and right before my eyes the bloody cut began knitting itself back together. Within seconds, it was gone. "...now," he finished smugly.
My eyes widened. The wound was completely healed, as if it had never been there.
A memory rushed back to me—the fight with the red wolf. Alexander had been slashed across the face, and I had been so consumed with everything happening around us that I barely noticed when the wound was suddenly gone the next time I saw him in the hall.
The memory of what Alexander had done back in the hall rushed over me. I had been so close to him in that moment and I knew Donald had seen it too.
The thought made my cheeks flush hot, and I quickly forced myself back to reality.
When I glanced at the stranger again, my breath caught. The wound… it had really healed.
So… Alexander really did heal unnaturally fast.
"Who is she?" the stranger asked sharply, tugging a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe away the last traces of blood.
Alexander leaned lazily against the wall, utterly unfazed. "My guest. Elena," he said, then motioned toward the man. "Elena, Lucian."
"Your guest?" Lucian repeated, his gaze narrowing as he studied Alexander, then me. His jaw tightened, like he didn't approve of what he was seeing.
Before the tension could thicken any further, a voice broke through the air.
"Alpha Alex, welcome," a middle-aged man greeted respectfully. From his steady posture and the way the others seemed to defer to him, I realized he must be the head of the housekeepers.
I turned to Alexander, trying to keep my voice calm. "Where's Kathy?"
Before Alexander could respond, the head housekeeper spoke up. His tone was courteous but firm, as though he was used to keeping the household in order. "The young lady who arrived with Alpha Alex is upstairs. She went up a short while ago to see to her belongings."
Relief coursed through me, but it was quickly tangled with confusion. Kathy was here—safe, upstairs. Why hadn't Alexander said anything from the start?
Lucian's sharp gaze flicked between me and Alexander. His voice cut through the air, edged with impatience. "What exactly is going on here, Alex?"
Alexander's smirk faded into something calmer, more measured. "Come with me," he said simply, resting a firm hand on Lucian's shoulder. "We'll talk." Without waiting for protest, he began leading him down the hall.
Just before disappearing around the corner, Alexander glanced back at the head housekeeper. "See that Elena is taken to her room. Show her around the mansion."
"Yes, Alpha," the man replied with a respectful nod. He then turned to me, his expression courteous and professional. "Please, this way, miss. I'll take you to your chambers."
I hesitated for a moment, my eyes following Alexander and Lucian until they were out of sight. Their voices faded into the distance, leaving me unsettled. Then, with a deep breath, I nodded and stepped toward the housekeeper. At least this way, I'd get closer to finding Cathy.
I followed him down a wide hallway, the soles of my shoes tapping lightly against the polished marble tiles. The mansion's interior was sleek but grand—modern architecture fused with luxury. Warm recessed lights glowed from the ceiling, casting soft shadows across glass panels and cream-colored walls. The air smelled faintly of cedar wood and something expensive, like leather polish and fresh linen.
We passed a living area that looked like it belonged in a magazine: plush couches in neutral tones, a glass coffee table, and a massive flat-screen mounted on the wall. Framed photographs and contemporary art pieces decorated the space, but the style was cold, curated—as if no one actually lived here. It was beautiful, yes, but also sterile, like a hotel lobby dressed up to impress.
As I trailed behind the housekeeper, unease gnawed at me. Did Kathy feel as out of place as I did walking through these halls? Did she even want to be here?
The housekeeper led me to a staircase with polished chrome rails, and we began to climb. My hand brushed against the smooth surface as we ascended, the sound of our footsteps swallowed by the thick carpeting. On the walls, instead of stern old portraits, there were large modern paintings—abstract splashes of color, metallic textures that gleamed under the lights. They didn't stare at me like the old portraits might have, but their chaotic colors felt just as unsettling.
At the top, the hallway stretched quietly, lined with closed doors that seemed to hide a hundred secrets. I wondered which one led to Kathy. My chest tightened at the thought of her being just a few steps away.
The housekeeper stopped at one of the rooms and pushed it open. "This will be your room."
I stepped inside, my breath catching for a moment. The guestroom was spacious, elegant in a minimalist way. A queen-sized bed with crisp white sheets and a charcoal-gray throw blanket sat at the center. Beside it, sleek nightstands held modern lamps with dimmer switches. A flat-screen TV was mounted on the opposite wall above a low dresser. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of the gardens below, their curtains drawn halfway to let in the fading evening light.
A small writing desk sat against one wall with a cordless phone resting neatly on top.
"If you need anything," the housekeeper said, his tone calm and professional, "just use the phone on the desk. Dial zero, and someone will assist you right away."
I nodded, stepping further into the room. It was comfortable, beautiful even, but it felt impersonal—like every detail had been chosen for display rather than for comfort. My heart tightened with unease.
The housekeeper bowed slightly before withdrawing, leaving me alone. The click of the door closing seemed to echo louder than it should have.
I sank onto the edge of the wide bed, my thoughts restless despite the silence pressing in around me. Just hours ago, my life had been simple—familiar faces, familiar places, a rhythm I thought would never break. Now, everything was upside down. My pack shattered. My father fighting for his life. And me… here, in the Dark Blood Pack's mansion, surrounded by strangers, with only the hope of finding Kathy keeping me steady.
I drew in a shaky breath, staring at the shadows stretching across the walls. In the span of a single night, my entire world had changed. And I couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.