The Lightless Sanctuary

Out here beneath the towering canopy, the forest possessed a totally different kind of silence. It wasn’t the suffocating, heavy quiet of my tiny bedroom, nor was it the terrifying, tense silence that hung in the house right before my father’s fists started flying. This silence felt alive. It wrapped around me like a warm blanket, inviting me to simply exist without apologizing for my own heartbeat. I could hear the wind whispering through the ancient pines, the distant, rhythmic calls of the blue jays, and the faint rustle of beetles crawling over the damp earth. For a werewolf, the woods were the ultimate sanctuary. It was the only place where the crushing weight of my physical reality completely ceased to matter.

I took a deep, grounding breath, letting the scent of pine needles and damp soil fill my lungs. I was entirely blind, a permanent, cruel reminder of a brutal past. When I was just four years old, rogue hunters had ambushed my mother and me. They tortured us. Before my pack finally found me wandering aimlessly in the trees days later, the hunters had injected a concentrated, burning liquid form of wolfsbane directly into my eyes. The agonizing poison had completely destroyed my human vision, leaving my eyes clouded over with milky, permanent scars. They found my mother’s lifeless body shortly after.

But out here, in the heart of my territory, I didn’t need my human eyes. My inner wolf, Nyx, was my sight. Through our deeply woven mental bond, Nyx lent me her sharp, piercing vision. Through her, the forest was painted in vivid, shadowy hues, allowing me to navigate the treacherous, root-tangled terrain flawlessly. I could see the moss clinging to the rocks and the low-hanging branches in my path. I was free.

"Aria!"

The sharp shout sliced through the tranquil air, shattering my fragile peace. I froze, my heightened hearing immediately picking up the clumsy, heavy thud of footsteps stumbling over the uneven ground.

"ARIA!"

I let out a long, heavy sigh, my shoulders dropping. "Yes, Stella, I’m right here."

I had lost track of time again. It must have been late enough in the afternoon for my half-sister to get home from high school and realize I was missing. Stella came crashing through the underbrush, breathless. She had just turned fifteen and was four years younger than me, though anyone looking at her heavy makeup and designer short shorts would assume we were the same age. She was the quintessential popular girl, bubbly and radiant, practically radiating a nauseating amount of positive energy. Against all odds, growing up with our toxic parents hadn't ruined her. She was spoiled, sure, but she had a good heart.

"Mom's already home, and she is absolutely pissed," Stella warned, though I could hear a sympathetic, warm smile in her voice as she caught her breath. "You didn't set anything out on the counter for dinner tonight."

My stomach instantly twisted into a tight, cold knot. My existence in that house was already a walking trigger for my stepmother, Victoria. I was nineteen now, the living, breathing proof that my father, Beta Isaac, had once loved someone else. My father and my mother had been chosen mates, deeply in love until Victoria—his actual fated mate—suddenly came into the picture. It created an awkward, tense few years until my mother was murdered. Almost immediately after her death, a pregnant Victoria and my two-year-old half-brother, Jace, moved into the house. From that exact moment, Victoria made it her life's mission to remind me that I was nothing more than an unwanted, broken burden.

"I left the casserole in the oven, it just needs to be turned on," I replied, keeping my voice hushed so the sound wouldn't carry back toward the property line. "The salad is prepped in the fridge. There are ice cream sandwiches in the freezer too."

"Oh. Well, she’s still fuming. You might wanna come up with a good excuse before she tells Dad."

I nodded slowly, pushing myself up from the massive tree roots I had been resting between. I brushed the dirt off my worn jeans and started walking back toward the edge of the tree line. Stella fell into step beside me, her sneakers dragging and slipping on the pine needles. I instinctively reached out, grabbing her elbow just in time to stop her from face-planting over a hidden rock.

"How do you even do that?" Stella huffed, adjusting her designer top as she regained her balance.

"It's easy when you memorize every single inch of this forest," I lied smoothly. I never told anyone about Nyx sharing her vision with me. The less they knew about my wolf, the safer I was.

"Yeah, right," Stella scoffed playfully, her mood bouncing right back. "One day, Aria. One day you are going to have to spill all your secrets to me. Especially that damn secret cake recipe of yours. If I find my destined mate and have to go through life without being able to bake that cake for him, I will literally lose my mind."

A genuine, soft laugh escaped my lips. "You stand in the kitchen and watch me every single time I make it! You already know all the ingredients."

"Yeah, but you never measure absolutely anything! You just throw random shit into the bowl whenever you feel like it!" she laughed, her bright voice echoing slightly as we finally stepped out of the protective cover of the trees and approached the back porch.

The house was a modest, two-story structure, a fact Victoria complained about endlessly. My father worked as an accountant for the Alpha’s businesses, but his salary was never quite enough to fund Victoria's insatiable appetite for new purses and luxury shoes. I actually liked the house. It had a spacious kitchen with a large island, three bedrooms, a den, and a living room. But the moment Stella pulled open the back door, the comforting illusion of home vanished.

I stepped over the threshold, my foot barely hitting the hardwood floor, when the air violently shifted.

*Smack!*

The sharp, stinging slap reverberated violently across my cheek before I had even closed the door behind me. The sheer force of the blow snapped my head to the side. A high-pitched ringing erupted in my left ear, and the metallic taste of blood instantly bloomed on the inside of my cheek.

"…useless layabout bitch," Victoria hissed, her voice dripping with pure venom. It took my rattled brain a split second to catch up and realize she had been yelling before she even hit me. "You don't do a damn thing around here! You just skulk around like a freak!"

"Mommy, stop! Aria made dinner!" Stella shouted, bravely stepping between us.

To her credit, Stella tried to intervene when she could. Jace was usually even more vocal about defending me, feeling a weird sense of older-brother responsibility even though I was the oldest. But our father was the next Beta in line to the current Alpha, and Jace was groomed to follow in his footsteps. There was only so much power my siblings had against the sheer authority of our parents.

"The casserole is in the oven," I managed to stammer out, coughing slightly as the burning pain in my cheek pulsed. "I just need to turn the heat on. The salad is in the red container in the fridge."

Victoria wasn't listening. Her eyes, filled with disgust, bore into my scarred face. "You were explicitly told multiple times never to leave this house. Stella had to go out there and track you down. How often do you sneak out? What if someone from the pack saw you?"

I kept my head bowed, staring at the floorboards. "I will get started on finishing dinner."

"You better," she snarled, stepping back. "Your father is going to hear all about this."

I didn't utter another word. I quickly retreated into the perceived safety of the kitchen, immediately turning the dial on the oven and pulling the salad container from the fridge. I could hear Stella still desperately trying to make a case for me in the hallway, but Victoria sharply shut her down, her heels clicking aggressively as she stormed off to another part of the house.

A moment later, Stella slumped into the kitchen, climbing onto one of the tall barstools at the island. "Sorry, Aria. I really tried."

I forced a tight, reassuring smile, pulling out a cutting board. "The attempt is appreciated, Stella. Honestly. Though you’d think she would be way too busy obsessing over the Gathering ball planning to come home this early and yell at me."

Stella’s face instantly lit up, the tension melting away at the mention of the event. "I’ve never been so excited in my entire life. What if I actually find my mate the very first time I go?"

I chuckled, grabbing a bowl. "If you do, then I guess I’ll be forced to finally write down my cake recipe for you."

"Do I get the recipe too if I find my mate?"

I jumped slightly as Jace’s voice cut in. My nineteen-year-old half-brother sauntered down the stairs and leaned his tall, muscular frame over the kitchen island. As he reached out to snatch a handful of the homemade croutons I had just set down, I swiftly slapped his hand away.

"Absolutely no snacking," I scolded lightly. "Wait for actual dinner. And since when do you care about my baking secrets?"

Jace huffed, rubbing the back of his hand with a dramatic pout. "Just because I don't stand over your shoulder watching your every move like Stella does, doesn't mean I don't want it. Because I do." He paused, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. "Like, a lot."

I laughed out loud at the two of them. They were my absolute saving grace in this miserable, suffocating house. Even though they frequently had to turn a blind eye to the abuse to survive themselves, they never actively hurt me. They always tried to pull me into their orbit, giving me small, fleeting tastes of what a real family felt like.

Then, the heavy front door clicked open, and the deadbolt slammed shut.

The entire atmosphere in the house instantly flatlined. All three of us stiffened in sheer, paralyzing terror. Jace dropped his hand from the counter. Stella’s back went rigid. Father was home. I could already hear Victoria’s hushed, frantic whispering from the foyer, immediately feeding him her venomous complaints about my disobedience.

"You guys better go upstairs," I whispered urgently, waving them away.

I didn't waste a single second. I spun around, ripped open the refrigerator door, grabbed a cold can of beer, and quickly poured it into a tall glass.

"Ingrate!" my father’s voice boomed, the sheer volume of it rattling the cabinet doors.

Heavy, angry footsteps stomped into the kitchen. The second Beta Isaac breached the doorway, my heightened senses were completely assaulted by the heavy, suffocating stench of cheap liquor and stale sweat radiating off his clothes. He had been passed over for a major promotion a month ago, and ever since that day, he came home smelling much more like a drunkard than a respectable wolf.

I kept my eyes glued to the floor and held out the glass of beer. "Dinner is almost ready, Father. It’s heating in the oven and we can eat as soon as—"

"Your mother told me you were outside today when she got home," he interrupted, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that slurred slightly at the edges. "She said Stella had to go out into the woods to find you."

I swallowed the massive lump in my throat, my hands trembling slightly. "Yes, Father. I was just sitting in the trees just outside the edge of the house."

He completely ignored the offered drink. Before I could even blink, his massive hand shot out, his thick fingers violently clamping down on my upper arm. His grip bruised my flesh instantly. He yanked me forward, dragging me forcefully out of the kitchen and hauling me down the hallway.

I stumbled, my bare feet sliding across the floorboards as he dragged me into the den. With a vicious grunt, he hurled me forward. I crashed brutally onto the hard, unforgiving wooden floor, my shoulder taking the brunt of the impact.

"How many damn times do I have to explicitly forbid you from going outside?" he roared, towering over my curled-up form.

"I just needed some air—" I stammered, scrambling to push myself backward.

"Did you shift?" he aggressively cut me off, his eyes wild with drunken rage.

"No, Father, I swear, I would never do that."

"DID YOU SHIFT?!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

Without warning, his heavy work boot swung forward, kicking me sharply and mercilessly right in the center of my stomach. All the oxygen violently exploded from my lungs. I collapsed flat against the wood, coughing and gasping in blinding pain, wrapping my arms tightly around my midsection.

"Never," I wheezed out, lying through my teeth to survive.

"Why didn't those hunters just rid me of you when they had the chance?" he roared in absolute disgust, his face purple with fury. "Why do you ALWAYS cause me nothing but PROBLEMS?!"

He drew his leg back and delivered another brutal kick, this time catching me hard in the ribs.

I curled into a tight, pathetic ball on the floor, a quiet whimper escaping my lips as the sharp pain radiated through my chest. Deep inside my mind, Nyx was pacing frantically. *Let me out,* she snarled, her voice a desperate, urgent plea echoing in my skull. *Get up, Aria. Fight him back! Show him what we are!*

I squeezed my clouded eyes shut, silently begging my wolf to stay calm and endure it. I absolutely refused to fight back. If I shifted and showed him my true strength, the punishment would be catastrophic. My only goal in this miserable existence was to survive just long enough to see Jace and Stella safely reach adulthood and gain their freedom. So, I braced myself against the floorboards, gritting my teeth and waiting for the next crushing blow to land.

*Beep. Beep. Beep.*

The sudden, mundane shrill of the oven timer pierced the heavy silence of the den. My father froze, his chest heaving as he glared down at me.

"Stella!" he barked toward the hallway. "Get that food out and put it on the table!"

He reached down, grabbing a fistful of my shirt right at the collar. He hauled me up off the floor so violently that the fabric dug into my throat, nearly choking me, the seams tearing loudly under his grip. He dragged me out of the den and hauled me down the narrow hall toward my bedroom—a cramped, windowless space that used to be a walk-in linen closet.

With one final, violent shove, he threw me inside.

I tripped over my own feet, launching forward and landing hard on the meager, lumpy mattress. I cried out softly as my forehead violently struck the drywall.

"You will stay in this room," he spat, his cruel decree dripping with malice as he stood in the doorway. "No food. No water. Nothing. I want to see exactly how long you’ll last this time."

The heavy door slammed shut, plunging me into pitch-black darkness. The deadbolt clicked loudly from the outside.

I rolled onto my back, pulling my knees to my chest as I clutched my violently throbbing skull. In the silent, oppressive dark of the closet, I let out a shaky breath. I rationalized the pain, telling myself that I actually got off incredibly easy today. He hadn't broken any bones. He likely only restrained himself because tomorrow was the highly anticipated Gathering ball, and he didn't want the Alpha questioning why his Beta’s hands were bruised.

I lay there in the suffocating silence, staring blindly up at the ceiling, simply waiting for the blinding headache to end.