The Witch and Her Four Dangerous Alphas

Selene's POV

My fingers trembled as I held the dry clothes in my lap.

The silence in the room was unbearable. It pressed against my chest like a stone, making it hard to breathe. Even the walls felt like they were watching me—mocking me—like they had witnessed my shame, my humiliation, my pathetic state as I was paraded half-naked through the halls of the very place where I was once treated like a guest. A child of an allied alpha. A girl who was welcome.

Now I was just… filth.

I slowly pulled the wet shift off my body, the fabric clinging stubbornly to my skin as if it too was ashamed to be discarded. My skin was cold and sticky. Covered in bruises. Covered in shame. The shift fell to the ground with a wet slap, and I stood there in my undergarments, arms wrapped around myself, shaking.

My branded arm throbbed with every movement. A dull, burning pain that refused to let me forget. My ribs ached from where the maid had kicked me earlier. My throat was raw—burning from all the sobs I'd swallowed down just to keep some shred of dignity.

But now… now I couldn't hold it in.

I looked down at myself. I was bruised, dirty and exposed.

And then the tears came. it star with tiny drops but I did not when they start falling like broken dam.

My knees buckled, and I collapsed beside the bed, the clean clothes forgotten. My hands gripped the edge of the bed like it could keep me from falling apart completely.

"Why?" I whispered, voice cracking. "What did I do?"

My shoulders shook, the weight of everything finally crashing down on me. The hot tears blurred my vision as they hit the cold stone floor. The scent of dampness mixed with old memories—ones I didn't dare think about. But they came anyway.

"Why do they hate me so much?" I choked, clutching the bed like it could answer me. "Why am I being punished… for what he did?"

My father.

Alpha Eirik Moonveil.

The tyrant. The war-starter. The name that still made people flinch. He destroyed lives. Crushed anyone who opposed him. He ruled with fear.

But I wasn't him.

I never asked for this bloodline. I never wanted his legacy.

I'd never hurt anyone. I'd never even lifted a weapon. I couldn't even shift yet when the war began. I was just… just a girl.

So why did they—why did the Duskdraven heirs—look at me like I was filth? Like I was a stain on their floor? Like I deserved this?

"I was just a girl," I whispered again, the words barely audible. "I admired them…"

My breath hitched.

And just like that, I was pulled backward—four years ago.

I had been thirteen.

Our pack had journeyed to the lands of Silver Dawn pack to attend the birthday celebration of the heirs—Aeron, Kael, Luca, and Lucian. They were turning eighteen. The whole region buzzed with excitement.

My father had been unusually calm then. Speaking of peace and unity. Even if I knew now those were lies. But back then, I didn't care. I was young. I didn't understand politics.

I just remember the night of the celebration.

The grand hall shimmered with light—chandeliers glowing like stars, laughter bouncing off the marble floors, soft music playing from every corner. It was like stepping into a dream. And in that dream… I saw them.

Four brothers.

All tall. All powerful. The room bent around them like they were born to rule it.

Kael, with his stormy expression and sharp jawline, stood near a pillar, arms crossed, watching everything with quiet intensity.

Luca moved through the crowd like he owned it—sharp-tongued and graceful, with a smirk that could cut glass.

Aeron stood still and noble, his presence alone commanding attention, even without saying a word.

And Lucian…

Lucian he was the most gentle, just like a gentleman, every girls dream prince.

Across the entire room filled with countless peoples, his eyes had found mine when I felt almost invincible to myself. And then… he started walking toward me.

I thought my heart had stopped. I could barely breathe. My hands were clammy. I was sure my cheeks were burning bright red.

He stopped in front of me and bowed slightly, that same smile on his lips.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice smooth and calm.

I'd nodded—stupidly, wordlessly—and placed my trembling hand in his. He led me gently to the center of the room, guiding me through the steps. I barely heard the music. All I could feel was the warmth of his fingers around mine. All I could see was the softness in his eyes.

"You're light on your feet," he'd said with a chuckle.

I thought I'd die from how fast my heart fluttered.

After the dance, the others noticed me too. Aeron, Luca, even Kael. For the first time in my life… someone saw me. Not as a burden or disgrace. But as a girl worth looking at.

It was overwhelming.

No one had ever noticed me before—not like that.

Because my father never let anyone see me.

To him, I was a shameful secret. A walking embarrassment.

I wasn't the warrior son he wanted. I wasn't fierce or strong. I was quiet. Soft-spoken. I liked flowers and books. I was fascinated by stars, not swords. And to Alpha Eirik Moonveil… that was weakness. And weakness, in his eyes, was unforgivable.

He never looked at me with pride. Only disappointment.

He'd call me useless when I cried. Tell me I was a disgrace to the Moonveil name when I could not beat the same pups around my age. Even when I tried to stand tall and speak like the noble daughter of an alpha, he would sneer and tell me I was just pretending—just playing dress-up in a life that wasn't mine.

He never introduced me to other alphas at council meetings. Never allowed me to attend public gatherings. I wasn't allowed at feasts. I was hidden during diplomatic visits. Locked away in the west wing of our estate with a few aging maids and guards who never dared to speak to me.

"Stay out of sight," he used to say. "You're already an embarrassment. Don't add to it by opening that little mouth."

So I stopped speaking, even when I wanted to scream.

I stopped asking questions, even when I was curious.

I stopped dreaming, even when I ached for more.

Until that night.