Cassidy
The feast stretched on, a long and torturous display of supernatural excess.
I stood in the shadows, my back pressed against the cool stone wall, watching as werewolves tore into slabs of meat with sharp teeth, vampires sipped deep red wine that smelled far too rich to be just wine, and witches murmured among themselves, their golden goblets glowing faintly with enchantment.
The scent of cooked venison and honeyed bread mixed with the underlying musk of wolves and the metallic tang of vampires. It was a constant reminder of what we were—humans, the bottom of the chain.
A sharp clang rang out as Alpha Garrick Thorne slammed his goblet onto the table. The room quieted instantly.
I tensed, keeping my eyes down.
"Brothers and sisters," he began, his deep voice commanding absolute attention, "tonight, we celebrate our continued dominance. Our strength. Our order."
A murmur of approval spread through the hall, but I barely heard it. I was too busy forcing my hands to stay still at my sides. My nails dug into my palms, the familiar sting grounding me.
Order.
That was what they called it.
But what they meant was control.
I clenched my jaw as Garrick continued, his words nothing more than a long-winded reminder that they held all the power, and we were just here to serve.
"Cassidy."
I flinched at the voice beside me and turned to see Jonas, a servant like me, and has been my friend longer than i can remember, his dark eyes flicking between me and the hall's entrance. His voice was barely a whisper, but there was an edge to it—something urgent.
"What?" I muttered back.
"I heard something." He shifted closer, careful to keep his voice low. "There's news from the human quarter. Someone's been taken."
My stomach dropped.
"Who?"
He shook his head. "Not sure yet. But people are saying it was one of ours."
The human quarter was where most of us lived—if you could call it living. A walled-off sector on the outskirts of the city, heavily monitored by supernatural enforcers. Anytime one of us was taken, it never ended well.
A chill ran down my spine.
I shouldn't care. I couldn't care. Not when drawing attention to myself could mean getting dragged off next.
But I did care.
"Jonas," I hissed under my breath, "this isn't the place to talk about this."
"I know." He exhaled, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. "But it's getting worse, Cassidy. Every day, they take more. And no one is doing anything about it."
I didn't respond.
Because what was there to say?
He wasn't wrong.
Every month, humans vanished. Some were taken for breaking rules, others for simply existing in the wrong place at the wrong time. None of them ever came back.
And we all pretended not to notice.
A sudden shift in the air made me go still.
I wasn't sure what it was at first—just a prickle at the back of my neck, a tension settling deep in my gut.
Then I felt it.
A gaze.
Watching me.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to lift my eyes.
Across the room, at the head of the table, Garrick Thorne was looking directly at me.
His golden eyes gleamed, sharp as a blade, his expression unreadable.
I froze.
I had spent my whole life avoiding notice. I knew how to stay unseen, how to keep my head down, how to blend into the background. But tonight, something was different.
I could feel it in the way Garrick studied me, as if seeing me for the first time. As if I were no longer just another human worker.
A slow, eerie smile curled at his lips.
I dropped my gaze immediately, my pulse hammering in my throat.
Something was wrong.
And whatever it was—it involved me.
The feast ended hours later, but my hands still shook as I scrubbed dishes in the massive stone sink.
Jonas had already slipped away, whispering something about needing to find out more about the missing human. I hadn't stopped him. I couldn't risk being part of whatever reckless thing he was planning.
I just needed to finish my shift and get back to the human quarters before curfew.
"Cassidy Boyce."
Mistress Renna's voice snapped me from my thoughts.
I turned, wiping my hands on my apron. "Yes, Mistress?"
Her eyes gleamed with something close to amusement, but her mouth was set in a thin line. "You've been summoned."
I frowned. "Summoned?"
My blood ran cold.
No.
This couldn't be happening.
"By who?" I asked, my voice careful.
Renna smirked. "The Moon Warden himself."
I stared at her, my heart pounding so loudly I could barely hear anything else.
Garrick Thorne.
The most powerful werewolf in America.
And he wanted to see me.
I tried to steady my breath, but it was useless.
Because I already knew—whatever this was, it wouldn't be good.