Rogue Strikes, but Alpha Still Celebrates His Secretary's Birthday

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself floating above everything, gazing down at the scene below.

Darainne tremblingly extended her tiny hand to touch my head. "Mommy, can I come out now? It's so dark in here."

I didn't respond. She pushed open the cabinet door with a soft creak, the sound slicing through the suffocating silence.

I rushed forward, desperate to close the door again, to keep her hidden, safe. My arm passed straight through the cabinet, through Darainne's frail body.

It was then I remembered—I was already dead.

Fortunately, the rogues had moved to another room, continuing their search, oblivious to the faint noises here.

Darainne stepped closer to my lifeless body. She shook me gently. "Mommy, why aren't you answering me?"

Her voice quivered, fragile and small. "I'm so hungry. I'm scared."

I lay there, unmoving, blood pooling beneath me, a dark halo expanding until it seemed to swallow what remained of me.

They say death brings freedom from pain, but at that moment, my heart ached with a piercing agony.

My child, not old enough to understand the world, had lost her mother. Who would love her now? Who would protect her?

"Mommy, are you just tired?" she asked, her voice soft and uncertain. "If I'm quiet, will you wake up soon?"

She retreated to the cabinet, curling into the cramped space. Her small voice began to sing a lullaby, one she likely remembered from nights when I had sung her to sleep.

I sat beside her in the dark, my ethereal form humming along to the familiar tune, as though we could still share that moment. She nestled against the cabinet door, her breathing gradually steadying. Tear-streaked lashes remained closed, though tiny droplets clung stubbornly to them.

Hours passed. The rogues, having found nothing of interest, finally abandoned their search.

They began discussing their retreat, but before they could leave, the sound of a door opening broke through the stillness.

Panic rippled through them as they scrambled into the storage room to hide.

The door slammed shut, the noise startling Darainne awake. Her small body trembled as she huddled inside the cabinet, her hands pressed tightly over her ears.

Then, James's voice rang out, harsh and cutting. "What's that stench of blood? What kind of lousy housewife lets things get this disgusting?"

Darainne hesitated, her feet padding across the floor. She came to my side, shaking my body with more urgency. "Mommy, wake up! Daddy's back!"