Bound by the Moon

Chapter 1

The morning sun filtered through the narrow windows of the Silverclaw Pack house, casting its first light on the polished wooden floors with a soft, golden hue. Astrid moved through the hallways with practiced precision, the quiet of the early hours a rare moment of solace. Each step she took on the plush carpet seemed to absorb the weight of her burdens, if only temporarily.

The packhouse, though large and grand, felt unwelcoming. Its grandeur was marred by the oppressive atmosphere that had settled over it. Astrid's daily routine began before dawn, when the world outside was still cloaked in darkness. She took pride in her work, even though it had become a series of monotonous tasks designed to keep her occupied and out of sight. It was her way of maintaining a semblance of control in a world where she had none.

She started with the kitchen, where the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the aroma of baked goods. The kitchen was one of the few places where the pack members' hurried meals and spilled crumbs were not her concern. Here, she was alone with her thoughts, her movements guided by an almost meditative rhythm as she scrubbed countertops, polished appliances, and organized the pantry with meticulous care.

As she worked, she caught sight of the reflection of the morning sun in the gleaming surface of the kitchen counters. It made her think of the days before the pack's tragedy, before the relentless blame and scorn had been heaped upon her. Those days had been filled with laughter and camaraderie, moments of shared joy that now seemed like distant memories.

But the peace was shattered abruptly by a loud, commanding voice echoing through the hallways.

"Astrid!"

The Beta's voice sliced through the silence with an authority that made her flinch. His bellow was harsh and unrelenting, cutting through the stillness of the early morning like a blade. It was a voice that had become a constant source of dread for her. When he called, it was usually to deliver more tasks, more demands—never a request or a kind word.

Astrid felt her stomach tighten. She knew that the Beta's calls were never idle. Most pack members had learned to avoid her, to let her do the menial work that was beneath them. And when the Beta's voice rang out, it was always her he was looking for. It was a twisted kind of efficiency, a way of ensuring that she remained under constant scrutiny.

Wiping her hands on her apron, she took a deep breath and braced herself. The Beta's displeasure was never something to take lightly. She straightened her back and made her way toward his office, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. Each step was heavy with a sense of foreboding, her mind racing with anxious anticipation.

As she reached the Beta's office, she saw him standing in the doorway, his tall, imposing figure casting a long shadow across the floor. His eyes were as cold and unyielding as ever, and his posture was rigid, a clear sign that he was in no mood for patience or leniency.

"Astrid!" he barked again, his voice a cruel reminder of her place in the pack. "Where have you been? The Alpha's office isn't clean. We're expecting very important guests today. Why is it in such disarray?"

Before she could respond, the Beta strode toward her with an authoritative stride. His hand came down with a sharp slap, catching her across the face with a force that made her stumble. The sting was immediate and searing, and she tasted the metallic tang of blood on her tongue as she quickly raised a hand to her cheek.

"Do you understand the importance of this?" he demanded, his voice brimming with frustration and disdain. "The Alpha's office must be spotless. You've had all morning. Get it done. Now!"

Astrid struggled to maintain her composure, her eyes brimming with tears she refused to let fall. She nodded silently, her gaze fixed on the floor. There was no use in arguing; she had learned that much from experience. The Beta's anger was a force to be reckoned with, and her only option was to comply.