Silk and Shadows

Caleb’s POV

The fire in the hearth crackled softly, shadows flickering along the stone walls of my chamber. I sat at the edge of the bed, a glass of whiskey balanced in my hand, watching the amber liquid catch the light. My mind was elsewhere caught between the past few days and the gnawing unrest I couldn’t shake.

The door burst open without warning.

Crystal stormed in, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. Her face was flushed, her eyes blazing with a fury I had come to know all too well.

“Caleb!” she snapped, her voice cutting through the stillness like a blade. “What in the Goddess’s name was that out there?”

I didn’t look up immediately. I swirled the whiskey in my glass, listening to the fire hiss and spit. Her impatience grew thick in the air, but I wanted her to feel the weight of silence before I answered.

Finally, I lifted my gaze to hers. “What are you referring to, Crystal?”

Her jaw clenched. “Don’t play games with me. You should have punished Elsa publicly, brutally for what she did. Instead, you dismissed me. You humiliated me in front of everyone. And worse you let her stay.”

I leaned back slightly, arching a brow. “Are you suggesting I bend the rules of my leadership to soothe your pride?”

Her nostrils flared. “Don’t twist this, Caleb. She’s a problem. She’s always been a problem. You’ve known it as well as I have. Yet every time, you protect her. Why?”

Her words cracked against the silence, sharp and accusing.

I set the glass down carefully, the sound of it hitting the table far too soft compared to the storm brewing inside this chamber.

“She is nothing,” I said flatly. “Weak. Pitiful. Insignificant. She survives only because I allow it.”

But Crystal’s eyes narrowed, and I saw the dangerous glint of jealousy there. “You’re lying. You wouldn’t have stopped me today if you truly thought she was nothing.”

Her tone hardened, her voice lowering. “Tell me the truth, Caleb. Do you have feelings for her?”

The question hung in the air, absurd and venomous.

I laughed once short and humorless. “Feelings?” I repeated, my voice dripping with disdain. “Don’t insult me.”

But even as I said it, images of Elsa flickered unbidden in my mind. Her silence under the lash. The way her eyes had burned even when her body broke. No screaming. No begging. Just defiance.

I ground my teeth, irritated at the memory. Not because I admired it but because it lingered at all.

Crystal caught the flicker in my expression, and her anger sharpened into suspicion. She stepped closer, her hands curling into fists. “Then explain it to me. Why hasn’t she been banished? Why hasn’t she been destroyed like the worthless girl she is? Any other Alpha would have done it long ago.”

Her words struck at the truth I hadn’t yet dared name. I should have cast Elsa out. I should have ended her existence the moment she defied me. Yet something held me back each time. Something I refused to examine too closely.

“She still serves a purpose,” I muttered, though the justification sounded hollow even to my own ears.

Crystal’s laugh was sharp and bitter. “A purpose? She’s a stain on this pack. People see her as weak, and by keeping her, you make yourself look weak. Can’t you see that?”

Her voice rose, echoing off the chamber walls. “They whisper, Caleb. They question. If you want to keep your place as Alpha unquestioned, you can’t keep dragging that girl behind you like dead weight. Unless…” Her eyes narrowed again, her lip curling. “Unless she isn’t dead weight to you at all.”

I rose from the bed in one smooth motion, crossing the space between us in a few strides. Crystal stiffened but didn’t back away. She never did. That was part of why I tolerated her the sharp edges, the fire, the lack of fear.

But now her fire was aimed squarely at me, and I would not be challenged in my own chamber.

“Careful, Crystal,” I said quietly, my voice carrying more threat than volume. “You forget your place.”

Her chin tilted defiantly. “And you forget yours. An Alpha doesn’t coddle weakness. He crushes it.”

Our eyes locked, the tension between us crackling hotter than the fire in the hearth. For a moment, I considered striking her down for her insolence. But Crystal was useful, in her way. She stirred the pack, kept others distracted with her venom. A different kind of weapon.

Still, her words left an unwelcome seed in my mind.

The memory of Elsa’s face earlier that day clawed at me again. Not the fear, not the shame but the stubborn refusal to break. Even as Crystal spat lies, even as the crowd stared, Elsa had stood there silent, her back straight despite the tremor in her hands.

That kind of grit… I hadn’t expected it from her.

I hated that I noticed.

I hated more that I couldn’t forget.

Crystal turned away from me abruptly, pacing toward the hearth. Her voice was lower now, but laced with poison. “You should know something. She isn’t just a weakling anymore. I’ve heard whispers. People say she’s changing. Getting bolder. And I don’t like it.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Whispers?”

“Yes.” She spun back to face me, her green eyes blazing. “Someone is watching her. I don’t know who, but I’ve felt it. And if she gains even a sliver of power, it could ruin everything you’ve built.”

Her words snagged on something deep inside me. Someone watching her.

I remembered the shift in the crowd earlier, the prickle at the back of my neck. As though unseen eyes lingered just beyond the edges of light.

Could it be true?

“Find out,” I ordered. My voice was cold steel. “If someone is interfering, I want to know who. And if Elsa is involved in it..” I paused, my jaw tightening. “…then she won’t live long enough to regret it.”

Crystal’s expression flickered, triumph flashing briefly across her face. She nodded slowly, a dangerous smile curling her lips. “As you command, Alpha.”

She turned on her heel and swept out of the chamber, leaving the door to slam shut behind her.

The room fell silent once more.

I stared into the fire, my fists clenching at my sides. Elsa’s face swam in the flames bloodied, defiant, silent.

I told myself I hated her. That she was nothing. That she was weak.

And yet…

My grip tightened until the glass on the table cracked beneath the pressure.

If she truly was being watched, if someone was pulling strings from the shadows, then perhaps the girl who refused to break was no longer just a problem.

Perhaps she was a threat.