48 hours before the party the first meeting
The scent was the first thing to hit me.
Soft. Warm. Human. But not.
Too clean. Too sweet.
Too... distracting.
I stepped into my quarters—and froze.
The air had shifted.
Not like the warning before a storm. Not like blood on the wind.
This was smaller. Stranger. A whisper curling around my senses like smoke from a fire I hadn't lit.
And the door was open.
My room. My space. My silence—invaded.
A growl built in my chest before I realized it. I moved fast, silent as a shadow. No sound from the floor beneath my boots. Predators don't warn. They strike.
She didn't hear me.
Bent low by the window, wiping down the baseboards like this was just another room. Just another chore.
Her back to me. Soft curves outlined in the fading light. Small hands. Quick motions. Shoulders tense.
Not a maid I recognized.
I saw red.
Intruder.
I grabbed her.
My hand closed around her throat and slammed her against the wall with a growl that barely sounded human.
Her breath left her in a gasp. The rag hit the floor like a dropped white flag.
And still—she didn't scream.
She stared.
Eyes wide. Too wide. Glassy with fear… and something else.
Something that made me hesitate.
Not submission. Not defiance.
Shock. Awe. Heat?
My grip faltered. Just a fraction.
She was soft. Her pulse thundered beneath my palm. Her lips parted. Chest rising too fast.
And she smelled like—
Fuck.
I didn't know what she smelled like.
It wasn't just soap. It wasn't just human.
It was... maddening.
"I'm the new cleaner," she gasped, voice cracking like dry leaves underfoot. "I didn't know this was your room—I swear, I wasn't told—"
She rambled. Terrified. That should've satisfied me.
It didn't.
I held her there a second longer. Let her feel it—the weight of my authority. The warning in my silence. I was Alpha for a reason.
But her eyes never left mine.
Not in defiance.
Like she was trying to see something in me. Find it. Define it.
Something cold crawled down my spine.
I let go.
She stumbled back, breath rushing in, fingers shaking as they flew to her throat.
I didn't move. Just watched.
The mop. The bucket. The way she turned and fled without a word, without looking back.
The door slammed behind her.
And silence returned.
But it wasn't the same.
The air still smelled like her.
Warmth clinging to cold marble.
My wolf stirred once—then went quiet. Not awakened. Just... aware.
I stared at the rag she left on the floor.
And for the first time in a long time, I couldn't explain what the hell had just happened.
She was gone. But it didn't matter.
Her scent lingered—warm and maddening, stitched into the fabric of my thoughts like it belonged there.
I paced.
Slow. Controlled. Boots echoing through the room, but it wasn't enough to drown him out.
She was soft. She didn't fight. She didn't flinch. She smelled like—
Enough, I growled internally.
But my wolf didn't listen.
He pushed up hard beneath my skin, pacing just beneath the surface. Eyes glowing. Hackles half-raised.
Not angry. Not exactly.
Just… aware.
Ours.
No.
I shut that down hard.
He didn't growl again, but his presence didn't fade. He wasn't speaking in words—he didn't need to.
His energy twisted with frustration. Instinct. Possessiveness.
He didn't recognize her.
Not as a mate.
But something about her had gotten under his skin. Under mine.
Mine.
A knock broke the silence.
"Enter."
The door creaked open.
Freya.
She walked in like she always did—like she belonged. Golden hair braided back, dressed in black and steel, her sword at her hip. A woman of logic. Calm. Power.
"Something happen?" she asked smoothly, one brow arched. "Word travels fast. Someone said you nearly murdered your new cleaner."
I turned slowly. "You sent her?"
Freya didn't flinch. "I hired her. I didn't personally escort her to your room."
"She was alone. No guards. No warning." My voice dipped, colder now. "You let a stranger into my quarters?"
"She's not a stranger," Freya replied, her tone sharpening. "She's vetted. Scared shitless, but she didn't even cry when I told her she'd be working on the top floor. That's saying something."
I crossed the room in one deliberate step.
"She's untrained. She doesn't carry herself like Nightfang. She stares at the floor like prey."
"She's not prey," Freya said firmly. "She's surviving. There's a difference."
That struck something deep in me—and I hated it.
"I want her reassigned."
"No."
The word landed like a stone.
I narrowed my eyes. "Excuse me?"
"You don't give me orders outside of war councils," she said. "You trust me to run this estate. That includes staff."
He stirred again.
She's ours. She belongs here. With us.
My jaw tensed.
No, she doesn't.
Freya read my silence. Her expression softened—barely.
"She's not here to threaten you, Alex. She's here to rebuild. The girl's been through hell. Whatever she walked away from? It broke her." She tilted her head. "I thought Nightfang was where broken things came to survive."
I said nothing.
Because my wolf was pacing harder now. Not angry. Not curious.
Possessive.
He didn't want her gone.
Keep her. Close.
I turned toward the window. Sunset bled into dusk. The party in the valley would start soon—music, heat, color.
I didn't feel like celebrating.
"Let her clean the lower wings," I said finally. "She stays off my floor."
Freya's voice softened. "You don't know why you're reacting like this, do you?"
I didn't answer.
Didn't need to.
Later, I found myself in the kitchens—alone.
I'd gone to grab something quick before the estate meeting… and there she was.
Hiding.
Tucked beneath a cabinet like a frightened doe pretending to be invisible.
I saw her.
I didn't say a word.
Just stared.
And something in my chest twisted.
Not because she was hiding. But because I hated that she felt like she had to.
I left before I said something I couldn't take back.
Freya's voice brought me back. "You're due at the Alpha Summit in Redwood. When are you leaving?"
"Tonight," I said, clipped. "Ronan, Fallon, the rest—they'll be circling by sunrise. I need to be ahead of them."
"Two days?"
"Maybe three. Depends how much bullshit they bring to the table."
She arched a brow. "Should I inform anyone while you're gone?"
"No. No meetings. No messages. No distractions."
She tilted her head, smirking. "Even the cleaner?"
My jaw clenched.
I didn't answer.
Freya chuckled and leaned against the railing as I passed. "Careful, Alex. You're walking like a man who just met a storm."
I didn't slow down. Didn't look back.
But as I disappeared down the hall toward my wing, my wolf rumbled again. Low. Possessive. Unrelenting.
We should've stayed. She might've spoken to us.
She looked at us like she belonged here.
I closed the door behind me harder than necessary. The click of the lock rang out like a warning.
I needed to leave before I did something reckless.
Something permanent.