The Royals

A scream tore through my dream—no, not a scream, my alarm, shrieking through the darkness like a warning siren. I jolted awake, heart hammering, sweat cooling on my skin. For a moment, I couldn’t remember where I was or who I needed to be today. Then the exhaustion hit, heavy and familiar. I forced myself out of bed, muscles aching, and stumbled toward the closet, the faint scent of detergent the only reminder that this was supposed to be a normal morning.

I crossed the hall into my daughter’s room. Pale morning light slipped through the curtains, softening everything it touched. I stood there, watching her tiny chest rise and fall, letting the quiet steady me. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll make sure he never finds us again,” I whispered before heading to the kitchen.

As I mixed her bottle, the past year pressed in on me—always looking over my shoulder, always listening for footsteps that never came. Leon had been the only one keeping track of our movements, the only reason we were still safe. That safety had nearly shattered a year ago. The memory tightened my throat until Jade’s soft stirring pulled me back.

I walked down the bare hallway—no photos, no decorations, nothing that said we belonged here. This place was temporary, a shelter I’d clung to through pregnancy and fear.

While I fed Jade, her quiet sucking almost drowned out the sudden ringing of my phone. My stomach dropped when I saw the name on the screen. I answered quickly. “Hello.”

“Hey,” Bjorn said, breathless. “You need to get here. Now. We’re overwhelmed with a new batch of women.”

“My shift hasn’t started yet,” I snapped, hanging up before he could say more. Could they really not handle anything without me? I hated that place. Hated going back.

The phone rang again. And again. Each call chipped at my resolve until frustration gave way to resignation. I swallowed the burn in my throat, steadied my voice, and finally answered.

“I’ll be in shortly,” I said, ending the call before he could respond.

I looked down at Jade, her eyes half‑closed as she drank. “I’m sorry, love—just a few more weeks. Then we’re gone. I promise.”

From the street, the building looked harmless—just another office building with too many windows and not enough personality. I almost convinced myself I was in the wrong place. But the moment I stepped inside and started down the stairs, that illusion cracked.

The air changed first. Cooler. Heavier. Each step felt like descending into someone else’s secret.

The basement walls were painted a blinding white, the kind that should’ve felt clean but instead made my stomach twist. The brightness only highlighted how wrong everything was. Sheets of paper were taped to the cinder blocks—little “motivational” quotes printed in cheerful fonts. Stay positive. You are stronger than you think. The words made my skin crawl. They weren’t meant to comfort anyone. They were meant to mock.

My footsteps slowed as we approached the soundproof door. Even before it opened, a stale, damp smell seeped through the cracks—like old fear trapped with nowhere to go. My throat tightened. I didn’t want to breathe it in, but I couldn’t stop myself.

The door swung open, and the room swallowed me whole.

Dim lights flickered overhead, casting long shadows that made everything feel smaller and more suffocating. Hunters and wolves moved with practiced efficiency, ushering three or four women at a time into a fenced-off holding area. The scrape of metal, the shuffle of feet, the quiet sobs—they all blended into a low hum that vibrated in my bones.

The women didn’t speak. They didn’t have to. Their hopelessness hit me like a physical force, thick enough to taste. Some stared at the floor. Others stared at nothing. One clutched her own arms so tightly her knuckles had gone white.

They sat in stiff plastic chairs, waiting with the kind of patience that only came from exhaustion. Their futures hung on a clipboard and a rotation schedule—first the physical exam, then the mental evaluation. The doctors and psychiatrists moved through the room with rehearsed calm, feeding the women the same lies they always did. Once your fated trusts you, he’ll let you see your family again. Just cooperate. Just be patient. Their words floated through the air like poison, sweetened just enough to keep the women from breaking too soon.

But I knew the truth. Once the wolves had them long enough, the women stopped asking to go home at all.

Then, finally, my department. Me. I was the one who decided where they would be placed, which housing block they’d be sent to, which wolves would eventually “find” them. The thought made my stomach tighten every time.

I felt Jade’s face flash in my mind—her smile, her tiny hands—and a cold wave rolled through me. This could’ve been us. If I hadn’t run.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to keep moving even though every instinct screamed to turn around and run back up those stairs.

Corruption wasn’t a secret here; it was the backbone of the entire operation. Human officials had been taking wolf money for years, pretending not to see the trafficking happening under their own fluorescent lights. They’d traded their morals for envelopes thick with cash, and the wolves knew exactly how to keep them fed.

I slipped inside and shut the heavy wood-grain door. The sudden quiet wasn’t comforting; it just gave my thoughts more room to breathe. I pressed my palms to the desk and reminded myself why I was still here. Jade. My daughter. As long as I cooperated, as long as I placed the women where the wolves wanted them, they’d keep me off the screening lists. They’d leave us alone.

But the royals were demanding progress. More women processed. Faster. And every day I felt the walls closing in a little tighter.

That was why I’d started planning.

If I called in sick on a Friday, they wouldn’t notice until mid-morning Monday. By then, Jade and I would be halfway to the Montana mountains. I pictured a small cabin tucked into the trees, no cell service, no roads, no wolves. Just us. Just quiet. Just safety. The image steadied me as I sank into my chair.

The moment didn’t last.

The door burst open, and a young girl stumbled inside, shoved forward by a guard. She couldn’t have been more than twenty. She hit the chair hard, eyes wide and shining with fear. The guard barked at me to get started, to hurry, to remember how much work we had to get through.

My pulse thudded in my ears.

So much for a moment of peace.

“I’ll do my best,” I say, my eyes rolling with a hint of annoyance. “Are you giving me an attitude?” he asked sharply, his gaze piercing me. I could feel the tension building in the room. “No, I was just s- “I started to explain, but he cut me off, his threat hanging in the air. “Better not, or I’ll have your job and a hunter in here on your ass so fast you will never know what hit you.”

Silently, I scanned through my files, the sound of papers shuffling filling the room until I finally found the name that matched her label. The weight of potential consequences weighed heavily on me. Losing my job and having the hunters after me were risks I could not afford. My daughter’s well-being was at stake, and I couldn’t let some shifter disrupt our lives. I had a life before him, and seeing my daughter would serve as a constant reminder that he was not my first.

“Do you want something to eat or drink before we start?” I asked, my voice tinged with concern. The young woman sitting in front of me looked worn out, her eyes bloodshot and puffy from crying. She was desperate for answers. “No, I want to know what the hell is going on!” she demanded, her voice filled with frustration and fear.

“Well, Ms. Justin, they have selected you for a wolf,” I stated matter-of-factly, the words hanging in the air. I could see the realization dawning on her, the gravity of the situation sinking in. “Hold the fuck up. A what? A who?” she exclaimed, her disbelief evident.

“Did they not discuss this with you in your counseling session?” I sighed, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on me. This was going to be a long, challenging process, and I was running out of patience. “Yeah, they did, but I thought they were just fucking with me. You all are serious about this situation, aren’t you?”

“Yes, you are now part of a semi-secret society, but my job isn’t to explain all that,” I responded coldly, trying to detach myself from the emotional turmoil unfolding before me. “It’s just to get you to the correct housing. Your file looks correct.”

“You’re a bitch and no better than those who took me,” she sobbed, her words laced with anger and pain. “Will I ever see my family or friends again? Will you tell them what has happened to me? They will be worried sick. Why me?” Her voice trembled as she poured out her fears and confusion.

As I sat at the desk, the sound of her desperate cries filled the air, echoing in my ears and making my heart ache. The sterile smell of paperwork surrounded me as I completed her forms, my fingers gliding across the smooth surface. But there was a heaviness in the room, a tension that hung in the air like a suffocating fog.

I looked into her eyes, searching for some glimmer of hope to offer her, but I could only deliver the harsh truth. “Honestly, sweetie,” I began, my voice soft, “the male wolves have put themselves in an unpleasant situation. Now, it’s the female humans who bear the consequences. It’s a cruel reality we must face, and I’m sorry you have to endure this.”

Her tear-streaked face twisted with anguish, pleading for help, as I continued speaking, my words heavy with resignation. “You’ll be relocated to a housing facility, where they’ll care for your education and well-being until the mating season arrives. Then wolves from all over will come to that specific base, searching for their mate. And you, my dear, will be sold to one of them. It’s the way this business operates. Have a nice day,” I finished, my voice hollow.

I called out to the guard for the next client, my voice carrying a tinge of desperation. But the guard’s response held no empathy, only disdain. “No need to yell, you stupid human,” he spat, yanking the poor girl up from her seat with a roughness that made me wince.

Unable to remain silent, I stood up, my voice trembling with a mix of defiance and fear. “Don’t be so rough with her, or I’ll report you for mistreating the fated,” I warned, my words shaky but determined.

His eyes, filled with malice, bore into mine as he stalked toward me. “What did you say, HUMAN?” he growled, his voice dripping with contempt.

Summoning my courage, I stood my ground, determined to fight for what was right. “I will report you,” I declared firmly, my voice steady despite the fear coursing through me.

“Go on. Report me then, but once I tell them of your disrespect. You will be the one fired.”

“I will tell them the truth. They need to hear my side of the story before deciding whether to terminate me.”

A cruel smirk twisted his lips as he responded, his words laced with a sickening satisfaction. “That only applies to our kind, not yours. Since the Royals are cracking down on the Fated Centers, go ahead. Run and tell.”

Anger surged within me, overpowering my fear, as I retorted, “Fuck you.” But before I could fully comprehend what was happening, his hand connected with my cheek in a stinging slap, knocking me over. As the searing pain radiated through my head, a blinding white light danced before my eyes. The cacophony of voices around me became distant and muffled as if submerged underwater. The acrid scent of disinfectant mingled with the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. My body grew heavy, limbs betraying me as I tumbled into the depths of unconsciousness.