Chapter 29
“You. Raise your head p>
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My stomach drops into the floor. The words aren’t loud to me, but they crack like a whip across the ceremonial grounds.
For a second, my body refuses to obey. My neck locks, my lungs forget how to work, and my fingers claw at the edge of the cloth I’m pretending to fix just to keep them from trembling.
I can feel his gaze searing straight through me–Alpha King. Alaric Hayes. Fucking nightmare in flesh.
If I don’t lift my head, I’m dead. If I do, I’m still dead.
Great choices, Sorin. Fantastic.
Slowly, painfully, I force my chin up. The mask stays where it is, shadowing half my face, but my eyes–fuck–my eyes meet his.
Amber–gold. Burning. Unyielding. He doesn’t just look. He dissects.
Every nerve in my body flares, the bond screaming though it’s been gagged too long and finally ripped free. It claws up my chest, begs me to run to him, throw myself into him, anything but this cold, careful lie.
His stare doesn’t falter. Doesn’t blink. He studies me the way a predator studies prey–deciding if the chase is worth it.
“What’s your name?” His voice is low, carved in stone. It shouldn’t shake me, but it does.
I swallow hard, tasting smoke from the torches, tasting fucking doom.
“An Omega,” I murmur, keeping my tone flat, servile. The same used in the bathroom “I help with the preparation, Your Majesty p>
A half–truth. Enough to pass. Hopefully.
He takes a step closer. The ground might as well cave in beneath it. Every Omega around me bows deeper, heads practically pressed into dirt, but I stay frozen.
The air shifts when he moves. His scent pushes through the smoke, rich and sharp, familiar enough to gut me. My knees want to buckle. My wolf–traitorous bitch–thrashes inside me, begging to bare her throat, to fucking whine for him.
His eyes narrow, and for one heart–wrecking second, I swear hemells it. Smells me.
I force my gaze down, force my body into another bow, voice steady even though I’m dying inside. “My King p>
A silence stretches. Too long.
Then-
A crash.
One of the tall torches topples, slamming into a stack of embroidered cloths. Flame roars to life though it’s been waiting for this exact moment, devouring the fabric, licking up ribbons, crackling louder than the gasps that follow.
Screams break out. Omegas scatter. Buckets of water are snatched up, feet pound against the stone, someone yells to move the rest of the cloths.
The fire spreads fast, smoke curling up in thick, choking waves.he heat claws at my skin.
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20:26 Fri, Dec 26 GW
Chapter 29
Alaric’s voice cuts through the chaos like a blade. “Form a line. Water. Now p>
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The command slams into the Omegas, and they scramble, obeying instantly, some nearly tripping over each other to keep up. His dominance is suffocating, pressing down until even the fire seems to hesitate.
I stumble back, shielding my mouth from the smoke, trying to melt into the bodies rushing past. If there’s ever a chance to slip away, it’s now.
But then–through the smoke–his eyes find mine again.
Through fire and chaos, his gaze locks. Piercing. Searching. My bond howls, he knows, he knows, he knows.
The world shrinks to those burning eyes, to the suffocating knowledge that instinct is screaming at him–there you are. Did he really see me?
“Your Majesty!” a Beta barks, pulling his attention.
The tether snaps. He tears his gaze away, barking orders, moving toward the flames with lethal precision.
My chest seizes. My legs don’t think—they just move. I grab a bucket, join the line, keep my head down, keep moving, anything to disappear into the chaos.
Water splashes, fire hisses, smoke thickens. My heart won’t stop fucking pounding.
He’s too close. Too damn close.
And I can’t keep dodging him forever.
The Omegas‘ hall is loud in the way I wish my head wasn’t. Laughter bounces off stone walls, mugs clinking against the long wooden table, the scent of roasted meat and bread thick in the air. Smoke curls lazily up toward the rafters, caught by torches that spit orange light. Everyone’s loud, warm, alive–and I feel like a corpse in the middle of it.
“Sorin,” Tully waves me over. “Finally! I thought the King swallowed you whole back there p>
The others cackle, one nudging me in the ribs when I sit. The bench is hard, but their chatter fills the space like cushions, softening the blow.
“Don’t be stupid,” says Marg, her dark hair falling into her soup. If the King had his hands on her, she wouldn’t be walking straight p>
More laughter. A flush creeps up my neck that has nothing to do with the heat from the firepit. I force a chuckle, fingers tightening around the wooden mug someone shoves into my hands.
They don’t know. They’re laughing, and they don’t fucking know
“What’s it like?” Marg presses, chin propped on her palm, eyes starp with curiosity. “Working so close to him? Does he talk to you? Look at you p>
Another Omega pipes in, “I heard he makes servants kneel without looking him in the eyes. But you-” she grins wickedly “-you wear a mask. Maybe you’re safe from all that p>
The laughter spikes again. Their words feel like glass pressed agst my skin. None of them realize how close I came to being stripped bare in front of him, how close his eyes came to acking me open.
I smile, though it’s brittle. “Safe, sure,” I murmur, tipping the mk up so they don’t see my jaw clench. Beer burns down my throat, bitter and sharp, like swallowing punishment.
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Chapter 29
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They keep at it, their banter folding over me, harmless to them ut cutting me raw. My chest feels tight, guilt gnawing at me. These women, beaten into Omegas, laughed hollow at first. Now they laugh real, and I’m lying to them every damn day.
I scrape my bench back after a while, muttering something abot needing air. No one notices, too busy arguing over who’d survive being knotted by a Lycan.
My head’s pounding. My chest’s worse. I slip out.
Night claws at the packhouse, the stone corridors lit by torches that flicker shadows across the walls. My steps echo too loud. My door closes with a thud behind me, and I sink into the narrow bed, fingers shaking.
His stare is burned into me. The weight of it, the way his lips had twitched like he almost fucking knew. My pulse hasn’t settled since.
I drag out my notebook, flipping through pages covered in cramped handwriting. My eyes stop at the jagged edge where one page should be. Gone. Someone took it.
My throat dries up. Whoever it was knows something. Maybe everything.
The masked intruder. The figure slipping past me in the dark the other night. My stomach knots. Could it have been one of Alaric’s men? Could it have been him?
A sound rips me out of my thoughts. Footsteps. Slow. Too slow. Right outside my door.
I freeze. Every nerve in my body pulls taut.
They stop. Right there.
The silence after is worse than the sound. My hand covers my mouth to keep from breathing too loud, ears straining. The footsteps linger for what feels like hours, then–retreat.
I sag against the mattress, damp with sweat. My chest heaves. I’m not imagining it anymore. Someone’s circling me, playing with me like a wolf with cornered prey.
Sleep never comes. The walls feel like they’re caving in, every creak and draft a threat. I pace, notebook clutched like a shield.
Somewhere down the hall, Omegas whisper through thin walls. Their words snag like hooks.
“They say other Alphas will come to the Full Moon Ritual p>
“…the Alpha of the Woodridge pack might too p>
The mug I left on the table earlier feels like it shatters in my chest. My stomach flips so violently I think I might be sick. Wade.
Wade here?
No. No, no, no.
I slam the notebook shut, nearly ripping the spine. The air in this room is poison. I can’t breathe. My skin feels too tight, my ribs squeezed in a vice.
Barefoot, I slip into the corridor, silent as I can manage, the notebook hugged to my chest.
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20:26 Fri, Dec 26 GW.
Chapter 29
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The gardens at night are a different world. Dew slicks the grass, old on my feet. The moon hangs fat and silver, painting everything in pale light. Lilies glow faintly along the stone path,heir sweetness carried in the breeze.
I stop in front of them, knees weakening. My fingers trail one trembling white petal. A memory surges unwanted–Wade’s hand over mine, pressing roots into soil back at Woodridge. New beginnings, we’d said. What a fucking joke.
Beside them, bold purple petunias. His favorite. My throat closes The earth itself is laughing at me.
“Wade…” The name leaks out, fragile, breaking in the air like thn glass.
My stomach churns. If he’s really coming–if his eyes land on m here–it’s over. He knows me. Too well. Every fracture, every tell. He’ll rip this mask off before I can blink.
Snap.
A twig. Somewhere deeper in the shadows.
I whip my head around, heart hammering. Nothing. No one. Just the weight of the night pressing down. But the hair on my neck lifts. Someone’s here. Watching.
I crouch near the flowers, pretending to study them, but my chest’s caving in. The storm’s closer. I can feel it crawling under my skin.
I crush a petunia between my fingers, petals smearing purple across my palm. My whisper is hoarse, a vow or a curse – I don’t know which.
“If Wade finds me here… everything is over p>
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