The air in the Alpha's study thickened, heavy with ozone and something wild, metallic—the scent of raw power unrestrained. My hands, despite years of rigorous training, trembled so violently the hot coffee in the cup threatened to slosh over.
He's shifting, my instincts screamed, even before the primal growl ripped from
Alpha Draco's throat."What did you see?" he snarled, his voice a vibrating low thrum, halfway between man and beast. His eyes, burning like twin furnaces, bore into me, though he strained to hide the sudden elongation of his fangs, the twitching of his jawline. His frame, already imposing, seemed to stretch, tendons coiling under skin that suddenly seemed too tight.
"I didn't see anything, Sir," I whispered, forcing the words past a throat suddenly tight.
My head bowed, my feet felt barely tethered to the ground, as if the very floor vibrated with his suppressed power. I watched—just barely—as the unnatural bulk of his form slowly receded, his features snapping back to human semblance with an audible crack of bone.
What kind of wolf loses control in broad daylight? My mind screamed questions, a whirlwind of forbidden knowledge, but I shoved them down. Not my concern. Don't engage. Be a ghost
"Who are you?" Alpha Draco barked, his voice no longer just a growl but a whip-crack of authority that echoed through the hallway. That tone—it kept all the maids on edge. Always. But beneath the anger, a strange, indefinable current ran through his words, making my skin prickle.
"I'm Elara," I said, the name feeling foreign on my tongue, a temporary mask.He stepped closer. Too close. The raw, masculine scent of him, now mingled with something ancient and compelling that had nothing to do with fear, filled my lungs, making my head swim.
"Elara?" he repeated, his eyes narrowing, not just with suspicion, but as if he was trying to decipher a puzzle in the very sound of it.
"I said—who are you?" His gaze raked over me, sharp, assessing, searching for something I prayed he wouldn't find. He paused, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, as if a deeper, primal part of him was trying to make sense of my scent, my presence.I didn't know how to answer that. Not truthfully, at least.
I kept my head down. Kept quiet.
"How long have you been working here? What's your name—Elara," he sneered again, the sound laced with something akin to a frustrated sniff, as if the name itself was an offense, or perhaps, an unexpected question mark.
"I've been here for two weeks, Sir," I replied, barely above a whisper. "I was transferred to your chambers this morning. Your former maid... she fell ill.""And no one thought to inform me?" he barked, his voice turning sharp—feral once more.
"What position are you, Elara? An Omega? A Beta? Or are you just here to waste space in my home?
""I... I don't know yet, Sir," I stammered, feeling a tremor deeper than fear run through me.I hadn't clawed my way into this household to be interrogated. No.
I was here to remain invisible, a ghost in the grand house. My clan's fate rested on my unrecognizable presence, just a mystery girl, picked up from the edge of the Alpha's territory—claiming refuge, swearing loyalty, begging for a place.
Every fabricated detail had been rehearsed, honed.But the truth? I needed access. I needed chaos. I needed the Alpha's world to fall—piece by piece.With a rough, impatient motion, he snatched the coffee from my trembling hands, his fingers brushing mine, sending an unbidden jolt up my arm.
"Have the chief maid report to me immediately," he ordered.
I nodded silently, my head still bowed, and turned to leave, the weight of his gaze burning into my back. Every instinct screamed for me to run, but a new, terrifying pull kept me strangely rooted.