BATTLE ON THE ICE

SALOME

The sound of glass shattering against the wall made me jump, but I kept my eyes glued to the floor.

It was a heavy glass whiskey bottle. Luna Mariam had aimed straight for Alpha Williams's head, but luckily for him, he was able to dodge it. The bottle missed him by two inches and scattered all over the hardwood floor, sending sharp, glittering shards everywhere.

Still, Alpha Williams Sphere said nothing. He just stood there, wiping a stray drop of liquor from his cheek, his face completely blank.

I stood in the corner of the grand living room, holding my tray tight against my chest. My heart was hammering, but I forced my breathing to stay steady. As a maid in the Alpha's palace, I had learned to mind my business even when there was a brutal fight going on between the Alpha and his wife. If you want to survive in this pack house, you become invisible.

But honestly? Inside my head, I was reeling. Luna Mariam was incredibly violent. She was always hitting him with hard objects, throwing vases, books, chairs—whatever she could get her hands on. And I still wondered why they were still together.

No, the Alpha is not a weak man. I knew that for a fact. I could tell from the way he shouted at the soldiers during training, making grown men tremble. I saw the way he controlled the entire Northern Pack with just a growl. He went to wars and stayed in the middle of it all, fighting on the front lines without a single hint of fear. So he was definitely not weak. That was why it shocked me so much why he allowed Luna Mariam to treat him so bad. Any other Alpha would have locked a mate like her in the dungeons, or at least roared her into submission. Williams just took it.

"You need to end the hockey game!" Mariam screamed, her voice cracking with pure rage. She stepped into his space, her chest heaving, pointing a manicured finger at his chest. "Stop playing hockey! It is affecting our marriage! You care more about that stupid puck and the Blackwood Alphas than your own pack. Than me!"

Well, that was the excuse she gave for today's violence. Every day had its own reason. Yesterday, it was because he returned from the pack borders too late. The day before, it was because he hadn't tasted the dinner she ordered the cooks to make.

Alpha Williams closed his eyes for a brief second, inhaling deeply. When he opened them, he didn't look at his wife. He looked across the room, straight at me. His voice was calm, deep, and completely steady, hiding the storm that must have been raging inside his wolf.

"Clear this mess, Salome," Alpha Williams ordered.

"Yes, Alpha," I whispered.

I immediately moved closer to do it. I knelt down near his boots, carefully picking up the largest pieces of the shattered whiskey bottle, trying to ignore the thick tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Mariam was panting above us, her face red, looking down at her husband with sheer disgust because he refused to yell back at her.

"Are you ignoring me, Williams?" she hissed, her voice dropping to a dangerous, low purr. "I am talking to you! Look at me!"

Williams didn't move. He kept his arms crossed over his broad chest. "We will discuss this in the office, Mariam. Not in front of the staff."

"No! We will discuss it now!"

I saw her arm blur in my peripheral vision. She reached for the side table, grabbing another heavy glass bottle—this one full of decorative bath salts.

Another bottle was thrown towards him.

Williams moved to dodge it again, but I was already in motion, trying to scramble backward out of the way. I wasn't fast enough.

Instead of hitting the wall, the heavy bottle landed right on my face.

Smack.

The impact was blinding. A sharp, white-hot explosion of pain burst across my cheekbone and temple. The bottle cracked against my skin before dropping to the floor, and I collapsed sideways into the pile of broken glass I had just been cleaning up.

"Ah!" I gasped, clutching my face as warm, sticky blood immediately began to pour through my fingers. Sharp stabs of pain pierced my palms and knees as they pressed into the glass shards on the floor.

The room went dead silent.

"Salome!" Alpha Williams's voice didn't sound calm anymore. It was a roar that shook the very foundations of the palace.

I looked up through a blurry, tear-filled gaze. For the first time, Alpha Williams looked absolutely terrified—and furious. His eyes had gone completely pitch black, his wolf surging to the surface. He didn't look at Mariam; he dropped to his knees right into the glass next to me, his large hands hovering over my bleeding face.

"Don't move," he commanded, his voice trembling with a raw emotion I had never heard from him before. "Salome, look at me. Keep your eyes on me."

"I-I'm sorry, Alpha," I choked out, tasting copper in my mouth. "I'm sorry, I'll clean it..."

"Shut up about the mess," he growled softly, gently pulling my hands away from my face to inspect the damage. His hands were shaking. Why were his hands shaking? I was just a maid.

Behind him, Luna Mariam scoffed, though she took a step back, clearly startled by the sudden dark aura radiating off her husband. "Oh, please. It's just a scratch on a servant. Williams, we were having a conversation!"

Williams stood up slowly. The air in the room grew so heavy it became hard to breathe. He turned around to face his wife, and the sheer malice on his face made Mariam’s breath hitch.

"Get out," Williams said. It wasn't a shout. It was a deadly, vibrating whisper.

"What?" Mariam stammered, her arrogance finally faltering. "Williams, I am your wife, I am the Luna—"

"I said, get the hell out of my sight before my wolf tears you apart," he snarled, bare fangs flashing under his upper lip. "If you ever step foot in this wing of the palace again, I will strip you of your title myself."

Mariam paled. Realizing she had finally pushed him over the edge, she grabbed her silk purse and stormed out of the room, slamming the heavy oak doors behind her.

The moment she was gone, the Alpha dropped to his knees beside me again. Before I could even protest, he scooped me up into his arms, lifting me effortlessly against his broad chest. I winced as the movement shifted the cuts on my body, but the heat radiating from him was overwhelming.

"Hold onto me," he muttered, pressing me close as he strode out of the living room and down the hallway toward the medical wing.

"Alpha, please, I can walk. I'm getting blood on your shirt," I whimpered, feeling incredibly dizzy.

"I don't care about the shirt, Salome," he said, his grip tightening around me, his heart hammering wildly against my ribs. "Just stay conscious. That's an order."