Chapter Twenty-One: The Cost of Curiosity

Avery's POV.

I didn’t wait for her to answer. I pushed past her, hips swaying as I made my way into the kitchen. The clatter of trays and the scent of early firewood filled the room, but my mind was elsewhere.

Marla stood at the center, issuing orders.

“Thalia,” she called. I lifted my head and met the glare of the girl who had tried to bully me earlier. I gave her a daring look before dropping my head again.

“You’ll wash the dishes today,” Marla continued. “Scrub the floors and disinfect the kitchen.”

Thalia’s mouth fell open. “What? Ma’am… I was supposed to clean the Alpha’s room today.”

“You don’t question me, Thalia,” Marla snapped. “Take what you are given unless you want extra chores.”

Thalia stiffened. “Sorry, ma’am,” she muttered.

“And who’s cleaning the Alpha’s room?”

“No one. The Alpha doesn’t want anyone near his room today. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” we echoed.

“Good. Avery, you know your duty—you’ll cook and serve the Alpha.”

I stared a second longer, then nodded. “Yes, ma'am.”

Without another word, I turned and started prepping the fireplace, but Marla’s words kept echoing in my mind: “The Alpha doesn’t want anyone near his room today.”

Why? Did something happen last night after I left? Not that I cared, but my curiosity was gnawing at me.

I would pretend to ask him what he wanted for breakfast. That would give me an excuse to step closer, to see for myself what was going on.

Yara hissed softly in my mind, tail flicking with excitement. “Go. See. Know.” Her instincts were sharp, pushing me forward, lending my trembling legs the courage I didn’t fully feel.

Each step towards the room felt like walking into my own death. The hallway felt endless now. As I got closer, I couldn't stop the curiosity clawing at me.

I quickened my steps. When I approached the room, it was dead silent. The door slightly ajar.

I moved closer, peeking through the narrow gap. My eyes dropped to the floor, and I started trembling. A small gasp escaped my lips.

Blood.

Blood smeared across the floor, dark and drying. A lifeless body lay on the floor, a man I didn’t recognize.

His eyes were ripped out. One socket was empty, hollow, and dark. The other eye still hung from his face, attached by a thin string, dangling against his cheek. Deep scratches ran across his arms, the skin torn and raw.

His chest was torn open, ribs shattered, intestines spilling in a wet, twisted mess.

Blood flowed freely, forming dark pools around him. His body was twisted, limbs bent in ways they should not bend.

Claw marks scored the walls and floor. Proof that whatever had done this had claws sharper than any man’s. Bits of torn clothing and hair clung to the wounds.

Then I saw Lucian.

He stood at the far edge of the room, his back to me, breathing heavily. His claws were stretched out, dripping with blood. His hands shook slightly, red running down his arms, slick and wet.

Dark fur stuck up along his back in sharp spikes.

Panic gripped me. I could feel Yara retreating. Her instincts screamed, urging me backward, away from whatever nightmare had unfolded here.

I turned around immediately, trying to leave without him noticing, or so I thought. I forced myself to take slow steps backward, careful not to make a sound.

My legs shook as I crept along the corridor, praying he hadn’t noticed me, that he hadn’t sensed me at all. I could still hear him breathing behind the door, growls low and threatening.

Finally, I reached the stairs. My legs moved faster now, urgent, desperate. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. I just needed to get as far away as possible.

At the bottom, I slipped into the shadowed corridor, moving as fast as I dared, back toward the kitchen.

A scent brushed past me. Faint. Male.

I ignored it.

I was almost at the kitchen when a hand shot out from the shadows, gripping my wrist so hard, he twisted my arms behind my back, the other hand clamped over my mouth, crushing the sound before I could scream.

I couldn’t see the person clearly. The corridor light was too dim.

I struggled violently as I was yanked roughly to the side, slammed against the cold stone pillar. My knees hit the stone. My shoulders screamed under the pressure.

Panic surged through me, my eyes wide as I tried to free myself from the unseen grip.

“What are you doing? Let me go,” I tried to say, but it came out as only muffled mumbling as the hand was still locked over my mouth.

I tried to wrench myself free, twisting my wrist in his grip. In one swift motion, he twisted me around, pressing my chest against the stone pillar, his hand pressed against my hips.

“Easy there, Avery,” a low voice hissed into my ear, breath hot against my skin.

I recognized the voice immediately.

Raith, Lucian's Beta.