KIRA FEELS HIS PAIN

                       🪷ISORA🪷

I just finished packing my small things. Maids weren't allowed to own much, so it didn't take long—a spare dress and two other uniforms, a hairbrush, and the silver fragment of my mother's necklace wrapped carefully in a torn piece of cloth. 

That necklace was all I had left of her. The only proof she'd existed at all.

I shoved it deep into the bottom of my bag where no one would find it, my fingers lingering on the cold metal for just a heartbeat longer than necessary.

Then I stood, shouldered the pathetic excuse for luggage, and walked out.

The whispers started immediately.

"Look at her. Acting like she's special."

"Three weeks and she's already in the Alpha's bed."

"Bet she spread her legs the first chance she got."

I kept my head down, my expression blank, even as rage simmered beneath my skin. They thought I'd seduced him. They thought I was climbing ranks on my back like some desperate whore.

If only they knew I'd rather carve out my own heart than let that monster touch me.

I'd heard worse. Survived worse.

A few jealous maids were nothing.

After telling Head Maid Margot about the Alpha's command last night, the glares had doubled. Margot herself had looked at me like I was diseased, her lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval.

"You'll report directly to him now," she'd said coldly. "Don't make me regret recommending you."

You didn't recommend me, you bitter hag. I'm his mate. He chose me.

Kira snarled in my head 

But I'd just nodded. Bowed. Played the part.

Because that's what I did. I played parts. Wore masks. Became whatever I needed to be to survive.

And right now, I needed to be the obedient little slave or maid or whatever the damn alpha wants.

At least until I could drive a blade through his heart.

I still hadn't told Asher about my new position.

Part of me wanted to. Needed to, even. He deserved to know—he was my partner in this, the only person I trusted in this entire forsaken place.

But another part of me... hesitated.

He'd worry. He always worried. And his worry would turn into arguments, into him trying to convince me to run, to abandon the mission, to give up on the only thing keeping me alive.

I can't give up.

Not when I was this close.

So I decided to keep it to myself. Just for now. Just until I figured out how to navigate this new hell I'd been thrown into.

I can handle this. I'm not weak.

Fuck the bond. Fuck fate. Fuck all of it.

༆༄༆

The Alpha's quarters were quiet when I arrived, the early morning light barely filtering through the heavy curtains. I stood in the entrance for a moment, taking in the space that would now be my prison.

His bedroom door was closed.

Good.

I'd start with the study. Gather information. Look for weaknesses. Anything I could use against him.

I moved toward the study door, my footsteps silent on the polished wood floors—

A sound stopped me cold.

Groaning.

Deep, guttural groans that sounded like someone—or something—was dying.

They were coming from inside the study.

My hand hovered over the door handle, my heart suddenly pounding. The bond flared to life in my chest, sharp and violent, like it was trying to claw its way out of my ribcage.

Heat flooded my body. Not desire—this was different. This was pain.

Raw, blinding pain that made my knees buckle.

What the hell—?

I gasped, pressing a hand to my chest as the agony intensified. It wasn't mine. I knew that instinctively. This pain belonged to him.

Adrian.

“Something is wrong with him.” Kira winced.

She's the one feeling it. Damn it.

My hand reached for the door, twisting the handle—

Locked.

The door was locked from the inside.

Another groan, louder this time, followed by a snarl that sounded more animal than man.

The bond yanked at me, demanding I break down the door. Demanding I go to him.

“Isora go inside.” Kira pleaded.

I stumbled back, pressing my palms against my temples, trying to breathe through the pain.

He's not my mate. He's a monster. I don't care if he's hurting—

"And what do you think you're doing?"

I spun around, my heart leaping into my throat.

The Beta stood behind me, arms crossed, his eyes cold and suspicious. How long had he been standing there?

I dropped into a bow immediately, using the movement to hide the grimace of pain still twisting my features. "The Alpha assigned me to his quarters. I was going to start cleaning."

"And the study is where you start?" His voice was sharp, cutting. "Or were you trying to eavesdrop?"

"I—I wasn't—"

"Save it." He waved a hand dismissively, his gaze raking over me with open disgust. "Prepare a cold bath for the Alpha. Water should be 95°C. And lay out formal clothes for the day. Black. He has a meeting."

I bowed again, keeping my eyes down. "Yes, Beta."

"And stay out of the study," he added, his tone harder now. "That's not your concern."

He turned and walked away, leaving me standing there with my fists clenched so tight my nails drew blood.

95°C. That's nearly freezing.

Who the hell bathes in water that cold?

Unless...

Unless he's trying to combat whatever's happening to him. Whatever's causing that pain.

A dark, vicious part of me wondered if I should make the water colder. 100°C. Cold enough to kill him.

Or maybe add something to it. Poison. Acid.

No.

Too obvious. Too quick.

He deserved to suffer the way my parents suffered. The way I'd suffered every day for the past four years.

And his Beta would catch me before I even made it out of the gates.

Patience, I reminded myself. Patience and planning.

I filled the tub with icy water, the cold biting at my fingers until they went numb. When it was ready, I moved to his walk-in closet.

The sight of it made my lip curl.

Black. Jet black. Matte black. Charcoal grey. Deep burgundy.

Of course. he'd only wear dark colors.

“Fucking devil,” I muttered under my breath, pulling out a black shirt and tailored pants.

I laid them carefully on the chair beside his bed, smoothing out invisible wrinkles with hands that trembled slightly.

Not from fear.

From rage.

I was in his space. Touching his things. Breathing his air.

And I hated every second of it.

My eyes drifted to the bedside table, and that's when I saw it.

A black book.

Leather-bound. Unmarked. Sitting there like it was waiting for someone to find it.

“Don't touch it.” Kira warned.

But I couldn't help myself.

I picked it up, the leather cool and smooth beneath my fingers. Flipped it open to the first page.

Blank.

I frowned, turning to the second page—

A hand locked around my arm and yanked.

I gasped, the book tumbling from my grip as I was spun around violently.

Alpha Adrian.

His hand shot up, closing around my throat before I could even react.

Tight. Unforgiving.

My feet left the ground.

Air rushed out of my lungs in a strangled wheeze as I clawed at his wrist, my vision already starting to blur at the edges.

His sea-blue eyes were dark—almost black—burning with a fury so cold it froze the blood in my veins.

"Do you want to die young, Isora?"

His voice was low. Deadly calm.