Chapter 2 – The Mansion of Shadows

The gates rose taller than I had imagined...black iron bars twisting into sharp points that seemed to stab the sky.

I gripped the straps of my old handbag tighter, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. My sneakers crunched against the gravel as I walked up the long driveway. Every step made me feel smaller.

The mansion loomed ahead..stone walls the color of ash, windows so tall they looked like they were watching me. The place wasn’t a house. It was a warning.

What am I doing here?

I almost turned back, but a voice snapped from the gatehouse. “Are you here for the position?”

I blinked, startled. A man in a dark uniform stepped out, his brows furrowed as he looked me up and down.

“Yes…I applied through the agency.” My voice came out thin, weaker than I wanted.

He checked a clipboard, then waved his hand. “Follow the path. Knock once on the main door. Don’t touch anything else.”

I nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”

The path stretched on forever. By the time I reached the door, my legs already ached. The double doors towered over me, carved with wolves frozen mid-howl. I lifted my hand and knocked once, just like he said.

The sound echoed, hollow and loud, like it was swallowed by the house itself.

A few seconds later, the door creaked open. A woman in a gray dress appeared. Her hair was pulled so tight into a bun I thought her face might crack.

“You’re late,” she said flatly, though I knew I was early.

“I...sorry. I came as fast as I could,” I muttered.

She looked me over the same way the guard had, eyes sharp like knives. Then she turned on her heel. “Follow me.”

I stepped inside, my breath catching.

The air was cold. Not the kind of cold that made you shiver, but the kind that sank into your bones. The hall stretched out wide, the marble floor polished so perfectly I could see my reflection staring back...nervous, out of place, small.

“Keep up,” the woman snapped, heels clicking against the floor.

I hurried after her, clutching my bag. My eyes darted everywhere..the tall ceilings, the heavy chandeliers, the paintings lining the walls. Wolves, battles, fire. None of it warm. None seemed welcoming.

At the far end of the hall, a door opened. A man wheeled himself into view, and my chest tightened.

Edward.

He didn’t look like the spoiled Alpha I’d pictured. He looked like someone carved from stone. His hair was dark, messy but sharp against his pale skin. His eyes–icy gray, locked on me like I’d just trespassed into his world.

“And who is this?” His voice was smooth, but carried an edge that scraped.

“The new applicant, Alpha,” the woman said quickly, bowing her head.

Edward’s gaze didn’t leave me. He leaned back in his chair, lips curving into something between a smile and a sneer. “This is the best the agency could find?”

Heat rushed to my face. My throat felt dry, but I forced words out. “I…I came because I need the job, sir.”

He raised a brow, amused. “You need the job. That’s a new one. Most people come begging to serve me because they want to be near me.”

My eyes widened. Was he serious? I tried to steady my voice. “I’m not most people, sir.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Clearly.”

The woman beside him gave me a sharp look, warning me to stay quiet. But I couldn’t.

“I don’t care about being near you..,” I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “I just want to work and earn my pay, sir.”

For a moment, silence. His eyes narrowed, and the tension in the air thickened until I felt like choking. Then he chuckled, low and sharp.

“Interesting,” he murmured. “You’re either very brave…or very stupid.”

I swallowed hard, my palms damp. “Maybe both, sir.”

His laugh echoed through the hall, humorless. “Tell me, girl, do you scare easily?”

“No, sir.” The lie burned my tongue, but I forced it out.

Edward leaned forward slightly in his chair, his gaze drilling into mine. “Good. Because this house eats the weak alive.”

The woman cleared her throat. “Shall I continue the interview, Alpha?”

He waved a hand dismissively, his eyes still on me. “Do as you like. I’ll be watching.”

I followed the woman into another room, my knees weak but refusing to buckle. The interview itself was simple…questions about cleaning, cooking, staying late hours. I answered them all, my voice steadier now, though my heart still raced.

When it ended, she handed me a paper. “You’ll hear from us within the week.”

I nodded, relief washing over me. I turned to leave, clutching my bag, eager to escape the heavy air of the mansion.

But then I saw it.

The portrait.

It hung at the top of the staircase…massive, impossible to miss. A man painted in sharp detail, standing tall in black, his eyes glowing red in the shadows. His face froze me in place.

Thorne.

The monster from my dreams. The Alpha who tore my family apart. The man who killed my father, my mother, my brother.

My breath hitched. The walls spun around me.

My hands trembled so hard I almost dropped my bag. I pressed them to my sides, trying to steady myself, but it felt like my chest was splitting open. My legs weakened, yet I couldn’t look away.

The woman noticed my pause. “What are you staring at?”

I shook my head quickly. “N-nothing. Just…the painting.”

“Ah,” she said with pride. “That is Alpha Thorne. Our great leader. Father of the young Alpha Edward.”

Her words slammed into me. My ears rang. I bit down on my tongue to stop the scream rising in my throat.

Father.

Edward’s father.

The air around me thickened. My vision blurred, not from tears, but from rage boiling so fast inside me I thought I’d burst. I forced my lips into a tight smile. “He…looks strong.”

The woman nodded. “He was a legend.”

Legend. My stomach churned.

I turned, forcing my legs to move, forcing myself to walk calmly out of the hall. But every step felt heavy, every breath like swallowing knives.

The moment the door closed behind me, I gasped for air, clutching my chest.

So this was it. The mansion of the man who destroyed me. The son of the Alpha who murdered my family now sitting inside, mocking me, not knowing who I was.

I staggered down the steps, my hands shaking, my nails digging into my palms until I felt pain.

“Never,” I whispered to myself, my voice breaking. “I’ll never forgive. I’ll never heal them. Not him. Not anyone with his blood.”

The wind whipped against my face as I stumbled through the gates, my vow burning louder in my chest than ever before.

But a part of me trembled.

Because even as I swore it, I knew fate wasn’t finished with me.