The Attic
1214 Words
I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be wanted.
Not loved—I stopped dreaming of that a long time ago. But just… wanted. Maybe as a daughter, or even as a pack member. The barest scrap of acknowledgment would’ve been enough to warm my frozen heart.
Instead, I get the attic.
I tugged the thin blanket tighter around me as the night wind howled through the cracks in the walls. The attic wasn’t insulated—just wooden boards thrown together randomly. Winter seeped through every c***k and corner, wrapping its icy fingers around my skin.
The worst part wasn’t the cold, though. It was the loneliness.
The voices of the pack drifted up from the floors below. Laughter, music, and the smell of roasted meat wafted through the air. Tonight, the Crimson Moon Pack was celebrating another victory—a successful trade agreement with a neighboring pack. My father’s booming laughter echoed through the halls, joined by the sweet, musical sound of my sister Clarissa’s giggle.
They were a family.
I was not part of it.
I clenched my jaw and curled into a tighter ball. They didn’t want me down there. They’d made that clear since the day I was born. The girl who killed her mother. The cursed child who brought nothing but shame.
“Brielle,” Clarissa would sneer whenever she found me wandering too close to the pack house. “Don’t you think you’ve ruined enough lives already?”
Her words burned like acid. I knew they weren’t true—not entirely—but I could never escape them. My father never corrected her. He never defended me. He was Alpha Apollo Darkhaven, a man known for his power, his ruthlessness… and his indifference toward his youngest daughter.
A soft knock at the attic door broke through my thoughts.
“Brielle?”
Zoey.
I sat up quickly, brushing the hair from my face. Zoey was the only one in this pack who treated me like I existed. She wasn’t a pack member—just one of the servants who worked for my father. But her kindness was the closest thing I had to friendship.
“Come in,” I called softly.
The door creaked open, and Zoey slipped inside. Her auburn hair was tucked into a messy braid, and she carried a small tray with a steaming bowl of soup.
“I figured you hadn’t eaten,” she said, setting it down beside me.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I murmured, though my stomach growled in betrayal.
Zoey smiled faintly. “Someone has to look out for you.”
She sat beside me, watching as I lifted the bowl and took a careful sip. The warmth spread through me instantly, chasing away the cold that had settled in my bones.
“You’re too good to me,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Zoey shook her head. “You don’t deserve this, Brielle. None of it. If I had any power—”
“But you don’t,” I interrupted gently. “And neither do I.”
On the other hand, her lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t argue.
‘What was the point? We both knew the truth. In this pack, power was everything. And I had none.’
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps on the stairs made us both freeze. Heavy, deliberate steps. My father’s steps.
At that, I scrambled to her feet, grabbing the empty tray. “I should go—”
“No,” I said quickly. “It’s okay.”
However, in the next moment, the attic door flew open before she could leave. My father’s towering figure filled the doorway, his icy eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of me.
“Brielle,” he said, his voice sharp as a blade. “Get dressed. You’re leaving tomorrow.”
My expression faltered, ‘Leaving?’ The word hit me like a punch to the gut.
“Where?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“To the castle,” he said coldly. “You’re marrying the prince.”
For a moment, I thought I’d misheard him. “What?”
“The Alpha King’s nephew, Prince Liam,” he said, his tone clipped. “The arrangements have been made. Don’t embarrass me by refusing.”
Zoey’s tray clattered to the floor.
I stared at my father, my mind racing. Liam. The sickly, powerless prince. A laughingstock among the packs. A man no one wanted to marry.
Just like me.
“Pack your things,” my father ordered before turning on his heel and slamming the door shut.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Zoey crouched to pick up the tray, her hands trembling. “Brielle,” she whispered, “this could be your chance. A new start.”
‘A new start.’
The words swirled in my mind as I stared at the closed door. Maybe Zoey was right. Maybe this was my chance to leave this hellhole behind. Maybe Liam couldn’t be worse than my family.
But deep down, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I was walking into another cage.
The morning came too quickly, dragging with it a heavy fog that clung to the earth like a shroud. I stood by the pack gates with a small, tattered bag—everything I owned in the world. My father and sister were nowhere to be seen. Of course, they weren’t.
The Alpha didn’t have time for unnecessary goodbyes, and Clarissa wouldn’t dare risk dirtying her hands by being near me.
Instead, it was Zoey who saw me off, her eyes glassy as she fussed over my cloak.
“Keep this pulled tight,” she said, tying the worn fabric beneath my chin. “It’ll help keep you warm.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that nothing could keep the chill from seeping into my bones today.
“Thank you,” I whispered instead.
She stepped back, her hands fluttering uselessly before falling to her sides. “Brielle, you’re going to be okay.” She uttered after a while, feeling a bit sad.
I nodded, though I didn’t believe her.
Behind us, the sound of hooves echoed against the frozen ground. A black carriage appeared through the fog, its frame elegant but plain. It stopped just a few paces away, and a man in uniform stepped down, his face as expressionless as stone.
“Lady Brielle?” he asked, his voice brisk.
I almost laughed at the title. Lady. I’d never been treated like one a day in my life.
“Yes,” I said softly, stepping forward.
The man barely spared me a glance as he opened the carriage door and gestured for me to enter. I turned back to Zoey one last time.
“Be safe,” she said, her voice cracking.
I nodded again and climbed into the carriage.
The door shut behind me with a solid thunk, sealing me inside. The interior was cold and dark, with only a single lantern swinging from the ceiling. I pressed my hands into my lap, trying to stop their shaking.
This is better, I told myself. Better than staying in Crimson Moon.
However, the pit in my stomach didn’t agree.
- Writer
