LOGINChapter 4: Aneira
Marla gave me exactly nine minutes. Not ten. I knew because by the time I finished unpacking my satchel and splashing freezing water onto my face from the basin in the corner, a sharp knock sounded against the door. “You’re already late,” Marla called from the hallway. I stared at the door in horror before scrambling toward it. “I’m coming!” A sound suspiciously close to a sigh came from the other side. When I stepped into the hallway, Marla looked entirely unimpressed. “You walk loudly,” she noted immediately. I blinked. “What?” “You stomp.” She turned sharply down the corridor. “Fix it.” Gods. I hurried after her. The estate looked even larger in the early morning bustle. Servants moved through the corridors carrying baskets of linens, trays of food, and stacks of firewood while distant voices echoed faintly through the stone halls. No one really looked at me directly. But they noticed me. I could feel it. The whispers started almost immediately. “That’s her?” “The hybrid?” “She’s bigger than I expected.” I kept my eyes lowered. Years of practice made pretending not to hear people painfully easy. Marla led me down a narrow staircase toward the lower levels of the estate before pushing open a heavy wooden door. Warmth and noise hit me instantly. The servants’ dining hall was crowded with wolves eating quickly between shifts while kitchen staff rushed back and forth carrying trays of bread and steaming bowls of porridge. Conversations quieted slightly when I entered behind Marla. Fantastic. Marla either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “This is Aneira,” she announced simply. “New transfer from the collector’s office.” A few wolves nodded politely. Others didn’t bother. One woman near the far table openly frowned at me before whispering something to the servant beside her. Marla ignored that too. “She’ll be working western halls and assisting inventory,” she continued. “If anyone has a problem with that, keep it to yourself or take it up with me directly.” Silence. Well. That sounded vaguely threatening. A chair scraped loudly against the floor near the end of one table. “You can sit here.” The voice startled me slightly. A young wolf with dark curls lifted his hand lazily from across the room, a crooked grin already pulling at his mouth. Beside him sat a woman who looked almost identical except for the long braid draped over her shoulder and the deep scowl currently aimed directly at me. Twins. The resemblance was impossible to miss. Marla glanced toward them briefly before nodding once at me. “Eat quickly. Then report to the western halls.” And just like that, she disappeared back through the kitchen doors. I hesitated awkwardly before making my way toward the empty seat beside the twins. The male servant grinned immediately. “I’m Rowan.” He pointed beside himself. “And that’s my lovely sister Lyra, who currently looks like she wants to poison you.” “I do,” Lyra said flatly before taking another bite of bread. I froze halfway into sitting down. Rowan snorted. “Ignore her. She’s mean to everyone before sunrise.” “That’s not true.” “You threatened to stab me with a spoon yesterday.” “You deserved it.” I blinked between them uncertainly. Rowan looked back at me with an easy smile. “See? Mean.” For the first time that morning, tension loosened in my chest slightly. “Aneira,” I said quietly. “I know,” Lyra muttered. Her eyes flicked over me briefly, not cruel exactly… just guarded. “You worked for the collector?” I nodded once. A strange look crossed both their faces immediately. “Oh,” Rowan said carefully. That one word told me enough. Everyone knew what kind of wolf the collector was. Lyra’s expression softened slightly after that, though she still looked wary. “Well,” Rowan continued quickly, clearly deciding the conversation needed less misery, “good news is western halls are quieter than eastern.” “Bad news,” Lyra added dryly, “you’re closer to the Alpha.” My stomach tightened instantly. Rowan noticed immediately and laughed softly. “She looks terrified.” “She should be,” Lyra said. Wonderful. Before I could respond, one of the kitchen staff dropped a tray somewhere behind us with a loud crash. Several servants jumped. Lyra didn’t even flinch. “You get used to the noise,” Rowan explained as he tore off another piece of bread. “Mostly everyone just tries not to get yelled at.” “Mostly by Marla,” Lyra added. “Or the Beta.” At the mention of the Beta, several nearby servants visibly straightened. Interesting. “Have you ever spoken to the Alpha?” I asked before I could stop myself. Both twins looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “No,” Lyra answered immediately. Rowan leaned closer slightly. “Rule number one if you want to survive here? Don’t attract his attention.” Breakfast ended soon after that. The estate shifted instantly afterward, servants scattering through the halls while orders echoed from every direction at once. My first few hours passed in a blur. Cleaning fireplaces. Changing linens. Carrying laundry between floors. The western halls were quieter than the rest of the estate, though far larger than anywhere I’d ever worked before. Every room looked untouched, polished so perfectly it barely seemed lived in. By midday, my arms already ached. “This goes to the upper hall,” Lyra said, shoving a stack of folded linens into my arms. I nearly dropped them. Gods. “How are these blankets so heavy?” “Because the Alpha likes expensive things,” she replied without sympathy. Rowan appeared beside her carrying another basket. “And because you have noodle arms.” “I do not have noodle arms.” “You absolutely have noodle arms.” “I worked in a tavern for years.” Lyra glanced at me once. “And yet you’re still struggling with blankets.” Before I could defend myself, movement near the entrance hall caught everyone’s attention. The atmosphere changed instantly. Servants straightened. Conversations died. Even footsteps seemed quieter somehow. Rowan muttered something under his breath. “What?” I whispered. “The Alpha.” My stomach dropped immediately. Heavy footsteps echoed through the entrance hall as two figures stepped inside from the front corridor. The first thing I noticed was size. Alpha Kale was massive. Broad shoulders strained beneath a dark coat still damp from the rain outside while power rolled off him so heavily it seemed to fill the entire room. Beside him walked another wolf I recognized instantly from description alone. Cassian. The Beta. They spoke quietly between themselves as they crossed the hall, both radiating the kind of confidence only powerful wolves carried naturally. No. Not confidence. Authority. My breath caught slightly. The Alpha looked even more intimidating than I imagined. Tall enough that most wolves around him seemed smaller without trying. Dark hair fell slightly damp across his forehead from the rain outside, the black strands contrasting sharply against sun-bronzed skin. A faint scar cut across the edge of his jaw, disappearing beneath the collar of his coat. But it was his eyes that caught me. Cold silver. Not soft silver like moonlight. Sharper. Like steel beneath winter frost. His face was unfairly beautiful in the kind of dangerous way storms were beautiful; all sharp edges, controlled violence, and the constant feeling that something underneath him was barely restrained. Even standing still, he looked lethal. The air around him felt heavier somehow. Like the entire estate bent itself around his presence. Beside me, Lyra lowered her head instantly. I realized a second too late that I was still staring. Gods. Panic flickered through me immediately. Before either of them could glance my way, I turned quickly, clutching the folded linens tighter against my chest as I disappeared around the western corridor. My pulse thudded painfully in my ears as I pressed myself briefly against the cold stone wall out of sight. Good. He hadn’t seen me. Still… Something strange brushed against my senses the moment he walked past. Warm. Sharp. Wild somehow. And for the briefest second, it felt like the air itself had shifted.Chapter 121: Cassian’s POV "I wish to hear who speaks first."The servants did.Lyra stepped forward, with her brother at her side. “I found the ledger in the war room,” she continued, her voice trembling. “I copied the numbers before I left. They show how much grain Cassian kept locked away while the outer holdings went hungry.”She hesitated, glancing at Rowan before facing the hall again.“And I heard Elder Varik talking about the attack at the eastern ridges. He implied that Cassian was responsible for Kale’s death.”A murmur rippled through the hall.“When he said it, I thought…” Her voice faltered. “I thought Alpha Kale was dead. I didn’t know he was still alive.”She swallowed hard before continuing. “I also heard the five names read aloud in the kitchen court. Pell was one of them.”Her voice broke on his name. A woman in the second row covered her mouth.Dara held up her hands. Everyone saw them. I didn't look.A man from the east holdings said that two children had died of
Chapter 120: Cassian's POVThey put me in the old bursar's strongroom, which was a joke I assume nobody intended. I had spent six years signing the pack's accounts in that room. Now it held a bench, a bucket, and a barred slit of window, and two wolves I didn't know stood outside the door with orders not to speak to me.They had taken the silver clasp from my collar. They had left me the coat.I sat on the bench with my back against the wall and put my fingers to my throat. It was tender where Kale's hand had been. I disliked it, because a bruise heals and the other thing doesn't. He had said one word, and my wolf had obeyed it before I did. My body bared my throat to him in front of forty men, and my mind arrived late to the scene, like a servant who finds the guest already seated.My wolf had been shaking for hours. I told it to stop. It didn't.I wasn't afraid of my fate. I had known for years that this might be the end of it, and I had made my peace with it. What I could not make
Chapter 119: Kale’s POVThe black thread slipped from my throat.For a moment, I felt nothing. No pain. No cold spreading through my veins. No heavy, poisoned silence where my wolf should have been.Then the last of the wolfsbane left my blood, and my wolf came roaring home.The sound tore through me. It filled my skull, my chest, every hollow place the poison had occupied. My claws scraped against the stone as I dragged in a breath, and the air tasted of blood, smoke, and the unmistakable scent of my mate.I turned.She lay against the wall beneath the broken remains of the shield, her dark hair tangled across her face. Blood marked her temple and ran down her cheek. Her hands were blistered and raw, the skin split across her palms, and the ruby at her throat glowed faintly beneath the grime. The cellar door lay in pieces around her, iron twisted away from its frame, frost melting into the blood and water scattered across the floor.She had held that door against Cassian and his men.
Chapter 118: Aneira's POVThe sluice was colder than I expected it to be. And after days of travel the freezing mountain passes, this was not a warm welcome. Lyra went in first, on her belly. I heard the water close over her wrists. The grate under the washhouse stood open where Marla had left it, a hole barely wider than my shoulders, and the smell coming out of it was old soap and rot. I put my arms through ahead of me and pulled.I have hips, and the drain wasn't built for them.Stone scraped my ribs on both sides. Water ran up my sleeves and down my collar until my teeth ached. Twice I stuck fast and had to lie there with my heart pounding, telling myself I was not going to die in a pipe. Rowan got his hands on my boots and shoved, and I tore forward another body length and peeled the skin off my left knee."How much further?" I whispered."Not far," Lyra said ahead of me. "Another ten."It was closer to twenty. Then the walls opened out, and I fell onto a stone floor with water
Chapter 117: Aneira's POVI was packing the last of the bandages when the Alpha knocked and let himself in without waiting for an answer.Rain had been working at the shutters since dusk. The room smelled of wet wool and yarrow, and the bed was covered with everything I owned that might be of use for this journey: my herb pouch, two clean shifts, a roll of linen, and Lyra's sketch of the washhouse drains, weighted at the corners with a jar of salve and a candle stub. Hex sat on the pillow and watched me pack like a creditor."You're not going alone.""I wasn't planning to. Lyra knows the house. Her brother's coming. There's a rogue at your treeline who apparently knows every track between here and Ashfang.""That isn't what I meant." He stood in the doorway with his hands folded behind his back, and I could tell he had settled this before he'd climbed the stairs. "I've sent word to Selene. She brings the column up to within a day's march of the walls and holds there. Caelum rides at d
Chapter 116: Kale's POVI woke to the sound of water dripping and the smell of soap, and for a few seconds I had no idea where I was.Stone was pressed against the side of my face. It was wet and so cold that my jaw ached from it. I lay still and took the room in the way I'd been trained to, one sense at a time. A lamp somewhere out of sight, its light too weak to reach the corners. Damp walls. Iron under the damp, old and sour, the kind of smell that doesn't come out of a floor no matter how often it's scrubbed. And above me, through a narrow grate set high in the wall, the muffled clatter of tubs and a woman's voice calling across a courtyard.The washing court. I knew that sound. I'd heard it every morning of my boyhood through a different window.I was under the east wing of my own house.I tried to sit up, and the chains rattled. They were bolted into the wall on either side of me, and a third ran from an iron collar around my throat to a ring above my head. The links were packed







