Obsessa

Days and nights went by without waiting for anyone.

Layla had been in the Crescent Moon Pack for a month now, and surprisingly, she was finding it easier to settle in than she had expected. Easier than those first few days when everything felt like a blur of survival and uncertainty.

Her mornings were filled with rigorous training. Her afternoons, she spent in the garden, soaking in the breathtaking scenery that graced the pack grounds. And her nights? She found herself quietly observing—watching the interactions between pack members, fascinated by how the dynamics here were so different from her former pack.

Yes, former.

She no longer wanted to associate herself with the place where she had been abused, isolated, and treated like something broken—all because of something she couldn't control.

But still… she was scared.

Scared of the unknown.

Scared that the past might find her again.

What if her former pack members were closer than she realized? What if they were just outside the border, and she didn't even know it?

What if they're almost here… and I don't know it? She thought, a chill running down her spine.

She had only limited interaction with the Crescent Moon Pack members, aside from Noah—sweet, talkative Noah—who always spoke to her, even when she barely responded.

Such a sweet boy, she thought. An innocent soul.

And then there was the Alpha.

The quiet mystery of a man whose name she still didn't know. Even in her old pack, his name had been spoken with more fear than clarity. All she ever heard was that he was the ruthless Alpha who wiped out an entire pack because their Alpha had raped his sister.

Maybe it was all an exaggeration. Maybe people say things they don't understand.

Because the Alpha she'd seen wasn't what she imagined. Yes, he was cold. Distant. Quiet. But he didn't seem like a killer. Not the way they described him.

He never talked.

Not once had she heard the Alpha speak.

It wasn't just that he was quiet—no, it was something more. Like he had built an invisible wall no one dared to cross. Every order, every instruction, every command came through his Beta, Cael. A man who seemed to read his Alpha's silence like scripture.

And it confused her.

How could someone so powerful, so feared, say nothing? How could an Alpha lead without speaking?

Was it trauma? A choice? Or just a terrifying silence that held more weight than words ever could?

But minding her business seemed like the best thing to do in this unfamiliar place.

After all, the devil she had known all her life was better than the one she didn't even understand—one she didn't know what might make it snap.

So, she kept her head down, spoke only when spoken to, and stayed out of places where she didn't belong.

The Beta.

The Beta, on the other hand, was the epitome of ruthlessness—or at least, he looked the part.

She still didn't know what either the Beta or the Alpha was truly capable of—

Okay, lies. She'd heard stories about the Alpha.

But the Beta? He was just as much a mystery.

These thoughts kept her awake some nights, accompanied by dreams where she never escaped,

Where there was no way out.

Where the interruption never came.

Where he ruined her.

And she died in those woods.

They'd come like the harsh sun hitting your eyes the moment you step out of the shade—

Without warning.

They'd come like the rain—never asking permission before drenching the earth.

And like the ocean waves—

Brewing without notice,

Crashing down,

Drowning everything in their path.

As she sat there on her bed, tears streaming down her cheeks, her hands pressed against her mouth to muffle the sobs,

Her heart cried out—to the Moon Goddess,

To any god or force out there who might hear her pleas,

Begging them to stop the pain.

It felt like her heart was caving in, like there was a hole inside it.

She just wanted peace.

She wanted her wolf—

Her other half.

The one living thing that completed her soul… aside from her mate.

She thought she was getting better.

At least she was training now.

At least she could defend herself—

Well, not really. But it was something.

What she didn't realize was that it had only distracted her.

A quiet before the storm.

What if I just died?

What if I had died alongside my parents?

At least then, she wouldn't have had to endure what she did at the hands of the Nightfang Pack.

What if…

Her thoughts were cut short by the sound of footsteps passing by her door.

Although the footsteps never stopped, that brief distraction was just enough to pull her from the edge of her thoughts.

She let out a shaky breath and laid her head down on the bed, the pillow damp beneath her cheek.

Waiting…

Waiting for the storm after the calm.

For the dreams that never asked permission.

The ones that came like thieves in the night, stealing her rest,

Dragging her back into the darkness she thought she had left behind.

And they did come.

Like clockwork.

Uninvited. Unrelenting.

They pulled her under like a tide she couldn't resist—blurry flashes now, not sharp like before.

But still enough to steal her breath.

She shot up in bed, chest heaving, the darkness around her somehow heavier than it was before.

The room was silent, save for the sound of her shallow breathing.

No one was coming.

And she didn't expect them to.

She wrapped her arms around herself, the cold air biting at her damp skin.

Her pillow was soaked. Again.

" I just want it to stop."

The words barely left her lips, just a whisper into the void.

She didn't even know who she was talking to anymore—The Moon Goddess? Herself? No one?

Sleep wouldn't return. Not tonight.

So she sat there in the silence, staring at nothing,

waiting for the sun.

And so, the cycle continued.

Training.

Breakfast.

The garden.

Lunch.

Her room.

Dinner.

Her room again.

Then the nights—

Always the nights—

Spent waiting for her loyal companion,

hauntingly committed to her:

Her nightmares.

Relief felt so close,

yet always just out of reach—

like the love between the ocean and the moon,

the moon and the sun—

close, yet untouchable.

Always hiding.

Always aching.