The Alpha's Mafia Luna novel Chapter 33

The Alpha’s Mafia Luna

Chapter 33

Selene didn’t know what day it was. Time blurred in this place–this

facility, bunker, whatever it was. Mark still hadn’t given her answers,

and she was beginning to understand he never would. Not directly.

Not with honesty.

But she had access now. Freedom, he’d called it.

The cuffs were gone. Her meals arrived on time. The door opened

when she asked–so long as she stayed in the “designated rooms.” She

could shower. Sleep in a real bed. Read anything on the hard drives he

provided.

It all felt… rehearsed. Like a set. A lie dressed up in comfort.

She sat hunched in front of a large, curved monitor in the dim

research room, lit only by the soft glow of the screen. Her fingers flew

across the wireless keyboard, digging through digital folders with

strange labels. Some were sanitized: “Economic Logs,” “Military

Surveillance,” “Pack Relations.” Others were cryptic–coded strings of letters and numbers she had to guess passwords for.

Mark didn’t seem to mind her curiosity. In fact, he encouraged it.

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“I want you to know everything,” he’d told her the day before. “I trust you, Selene. This… this is your world now. Might as well learn how it

works.”

But he wasn’t watching what she was learning. Or so he made it

seem.

She hadn’t seen him today. His absence hung in the air like thick fog.

She preferred it that way. When he was near, the air felt heavier–like

it bent to his presence, like it waited to flinch.

8. 8.

Selene opened another file labeled “Psychological Profiles – High-

Value Targets.”

Inside were scans and reports on people she didn’t recognize. Names,

ages, mental histories, bloodlines. Some marked with red Xs. Others

had the word “Watched” stamped across their documents in bold

letters.

She kept scrolling.

She needed something useful. Something that would tell her who

Mark was and what he wanted.

But he was too careful.

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Nothing so far explained why she was here. Or what obsession he was

feeding behind that too–gentle smile. She tapped her fingers against

the desk, frustrated.

“I’m missing something,” she muttered to herself.

Ex

The room stayed quiet. Just the soft ticking of the wall–mounted

clock. Just the distant sound of vents hissing recycled air. Her own

breath.

She stood and stretched, pacing to clear her head.

That’s when she saw it–a folder tucked deep in the corner of the

server archive. Not red–tagged. Not labeled clearly. It was named

only:

“ECHO–9: EXTRANEOUS DATA”

Strange title.

She clicked.

The folder opened to a list of scanned documents, language files, and

fragments of old maps. One stood out instantly.

A scroll.

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Handwritten. Torn. Faded. But even on the screen, the script looked…

familiar.

She blinked, leaning in.

Where have I seen this before?

Her fingers hovered over the text. The script curved and twisted like

ancient song–not in any language she recognized from modern

packs. Not even from the old archives Xavier once referenced.

She squinted.

The loops… the symbols…

And then, like a whisper on the edge of her mind–it hit her.

The dream.

The lullaby.

The dream she’d had the night before she was taken. The melody she’d woken up humming, confused and chilled to the bone. She hadn’t thought of it since then–not really. Just another strange nightmare. A beautiful, eerie lullaby in a language she couldn’t name.

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Now she was staring at it.

The exact same script.

Her heartbeat picked up. Her fingers began to scroll faster, opening

more fragments in the same language. One page contained only three

words, in bold:

“Aeloria. Throne. Bloodline.”

She froze.

That word… Aeloria.

It sounded old. Powerful.

There was no translation provided–just these faded records, buried

in an obscure file. The system didn’t even try to index them properly.

They weren’t meant to be found.

She tapped on a smaller file attached to the page.

“Recording Playback Initiated.”

A soft, tinny voice filtered through the speakers. A child’s voice.

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Singing.

Not in English. Not in any human or werewolf language she knew. But

it was the same melody from her dream.

The same exact lullaby.

Selene’s eyes widened. Her breath caught in her throat as her lips,

almost instinctively, began to move with the words.

“Othiraen… vel kaen… Drel’sha vure…”

A chill crept down her spine.

She didn’t know what the words meant. But her body remembered

them.

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