Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Aneira

Dawn crept in before exhaustion had fully left me.

Not because I had rested enough for it to matter, but because the estate moved on regardless of who was tired. Servants were expected to wake before the sun and Ashfang did not slow itself for anyone struggling to keep pace.

I lay still for a moment beneath the thin blanket, staring at the ceiling as yesterday’s memory replayed itself with irritating clarity.

“You ask a lot of questions.”

The Alpha’s voice had not been raised. It had not needed to be.

I pressed my hands over my face.

“Of all the things you could have done,” I muttered into my palms, “you chose that.”

Somewhere outside, the estate had already begun to wake. Footsteps echoed faintly through the corridors beyond my door, the distant rhythm of work beginning again as though nothing strange had happened in the halls the night before.

Nothing strange happened.

Except for me.

I sat up slowly and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, immediately noticing the clothes laid out neatly where I had left them the night before.

For a moment, I just looked at them.

Then I reached for them carefully.

They still felt unreal in my hands, clean fabric, properly stitched seams, no fraying edges, no patches meant to extend their life another month. When I changed into them, the difference was immediate. The dress actually fit. Properly. Not like something borrowed from a stranger’s kindness and reshaped through necessity.

It made me feel… exposed in a different way.

I hated how much that mattered.

By the time I reached the servants’ dining hall, the smell of food had already filled the air. Warm bread, porridge, roasted meat…real food, not scraps.

Rowan spotted me almost immediately.

“You look like someone who didn’t sleep,” he said, far too cheerfully for the early hour.

“I didn’t,” I replied.

Lyra didn’t even look up at first. “That’s obvious.”

I sat down slowly, aware of their attention in a way that made my skin feel too tight.

Rowan leaned forward slightly. “So.”

I frowned at him. “So what?”

His grin widened. “So what did you do yesterday that has you looking like you’re about to be executed before breakfast?”

Nothing good came from honesty. I had learned that early.

“I worked,” I said carefully.

Lyra finally glanced at me.

“That’s not what he means.”

Rowan hummed. “Try again.”

I hesitated for a moment too long.

Then, against every instinct I had developed in my entire life, I said it.

“I spilled water on the Alpha.”

The silence that followed was immediate and devastating.

Rowan froze mid-bite.

Then he choked.

Actually choked.

Lyra’s head snapped toward me so fast I thought she might have cracked something.

“You what?” she demanded.

“I didn’t mean to,” I added quickly, heat rushing up my neck. “He was just…he appeared and I panicked and the bucket…”

Rowan was now laughing into his hand, half horrified and half delighted.

“You…” he gasped. “You spilled water on him?”

“Yes.”

Lyra looked at me like I had personally invited death into the estate.

“And you’re still breathing.”

“That is also what I’m wondering,” I muttered. How did I still have my job?

Rowan wiped his mouth, still smiling too widely. “Aneira, no one spills anything near him. People don’t even breathe wrong in his direction.”

“I’ve noticed,” I said dryly.

Lyra leaned back in her chair slowly, studying me with new, reluctant curiosity. “What did he do?”

I hesitated. That was the part that didn’t make sense.

“Nothing,” I admitted.

Rowan blinked. “Nothing?”

I nodded.

“He just… looked at me.”

That seemed to quiet them both in a different way.

Lyra frowned slightly. “That’s worse.”

“Helpful,” I muttered.

Rowan, however, looked far too entertained. “You’re either incredibly unlucky or incredibly brave.”

“I vote unlucky,” Lyra said immediately.

I didn’t argue.

After breakfast, the estate shifted into motion again. Servants scattered through corridors, carrying supplies, cleaning rooms, preparing for whatever demands the day would bring. I moved with them, trying very hard not to think about anything in particular.

That lasted approximately ten minutes.

The first time I heard heavy footsteps in the distance, I froze without meaning to.

Not fear exactly.

Something closer to anticipation I did not want to name.

I changed direction immediately.

The corridor on the east wing would be safer.

Or so I thought.

By midday, I had learned several important things.

First: the estate was far too large to successfully avoid anyone determined enough to exist inside it.

Second: I had apparently become extremely aware of every sound that resembled steady, controlled footsteps.

Third: my body was traitorous. Every time I saw him, that strange pressure returned. Subtle and invisible, but impossible to ignore. My heart reacted before my thoughts could catch up, which felt both inconvenient and deeply irritating.

I was simply tired.

That was all.

I told myself that repeatedly while pretending to reorganize an already organized linen closet.

By evening, Marla summoned all servants to the lower hall.

The atmosphere changed immediately.

Even before she spoke, there was an understanding that something important was coming. Servants gathered quickly, forming loose lines beneath the lanternlight while Marla stood at the front with her usual expression of controlled impatience.

Her eyes swept over us once before she spoke.

“The Alpha estate will host a formal dinner tonight,” she said. “Council members, allied houses, and visiting representatives will be present.”

A few servants exchanged uneasy glances.

Marla did not soften her tone.

“You will serve. You will move quietly. You will not speak unless spoken to, and you will not interfere in conversations above your station.”

Her gaze sharpened slightly.

“And you will not draw attention to yourselves in any form.”

My stomach tightened.

That was… unfortunate.

Marla continued without pause. “The Alpha will be present throughout. You will not approach him unless instructed. You will not delay orders. And you will not make mistakes.”

Her eyes flicked briefly across the group.

“I will not be repeating myself.”

A heavy silence settled after that.

When the briefing ended, I stood still for a moment longer than I should have.

Dinner.

With him there.

Gods.

Lyra leaned slightly toward me as we were dismissed. “Try not to die,” she murmured.

“I’ll consider it,” I muttered back.

Rowan, somehow already grinning again, added, “If you do spill something tonight, please aim it at someone important so it’s worth the chaos.”

“I am not going to spill anything,” I said flatly.

Lyra raised a brow.

I ignored both of them.

Night arrived faster than I wanted it to.

The dining hall had been transformed completely. Long tables stretched beneath glowing chandeliers, polished surfaces reflecting flickering candlelight and carefully arranged silverware. The air smelled of expensive food, polished wood, and too many wolves confined in one place with too much authority between them.

I kept my head down as I moved between tables carrying trays.

Do not draw attention.

Do not look up.

Do not do anything that makes this harder than it already is.

The guests grew louder over time, conversation and low laughter blending with the clinking of goblets beneath the warm glow of chandeliers overhead. Servants moved constantly between tables while council members and high-ranking wolves filled the room with expensive fabrics, polished jewelry, and opinions no one downstairs cared about.

I focused on my tray instead.

Just food.

Just movement.

Just finishing this without mistakes.

“Aneira.”

I nearly startled at Marla’s voice beside me.

She pressed a silver wine decanter into my hands before nodding toward the head table. “The Alpha’s refill.”

My stomach tightened immediately.

Marla either didn’t notice my brief hesitation or simply chose not to acknowledge it.

“Carefully,” she added before turning toward another servant balancing dishes poorly near the kitchens.

I wrapped my fingers tighter around the decanter before making my way toward the head table. My steps felt painfully noticeable despite the music and conversation filling the hall.

The Alpha was already seated when I reached him.

He did not dominate the room in any loud or obvious way. He didn’t need to. Even seated, there was an ease to the way space seemed to arrange itself around him, like the room had quietly decided what mattered and what didn’t. Wolves shifted subtly around him without realizing it.

I stopped carefully beside his chair.

The scent reached me first.

Wild pine. Smoke. Cold air.

And beneath it all, something darker that reminded me vaguely of approaching storms.

It suited him entirely too well.

“Your wine, Alpha,” I said quietly.

For one terrible second, I thought my voice might betray my nerves.

It didn’t.

Good.

I reached for the dark crystal goblet near his hand, careful not to touch him as I poured slowly.

The room around us blurred into distant noise.

Then his voice came calmly beside me.

“You’re running from me.”

My hand almost slipped.

Barely.

I managed to steady the decanter before disaster struck, though heat immediately crawled into my face.

“I wasn’t aware I was supposed to do the opposite,” I answered before common sense could stop me.

Gods.

Why did my mouth keep doing that?

A pause followed.

I finally risked glancing toward him.

His silver eyes rested on me steadily beneath the golden candlelight, unreadable in a way that somehow felt more dangerous than anger would have.

“You speak strangely for someone afraid of me,” he observed.

Afraid wasn’t even the correct word anymore.

Terrified felt closer.

I lowered my gaze quickly again, setting the decanter back onto the tray.

“With respect, Alpha,” I murmured carefully, “I think speaking less around you is probably safer for everyone involved.”

Silence lingered briefly between us.

His silver eyes narrowed slightly on me, like he was trying to figure something out.

The attention alone made nervous heat crawl up my neck.

I escaped immediately after that.

Not running.

Definitely not running.

Just walking very quickly back toward the kitchen while my pulse behaved irrationally for absolutely no reason at all.