Where I Can See You

“Your eyes were silver.”

Fenris said it so quietly I almost didn’t hear him.

I stared at him. “What?”

“Just now. Your eyes.” He took another step back, like he needed the distance. “They were silver.”

“My eyes are blue.”

“I know what color your eyes usually are! I am telling you they briefly turned silver.”

The words hung there. He looked like he regretted them the second they were out.

Then he closed the space between us again, fast, and caught my chin between his fingers. Not hard. But firm enough that I couldn’t look away. He tilted my face up into the lamplight and searched it, my eyes, my face, all of it, like he was reading something written in a language he didn’t speak.

I held my breath.

Whatever had risen inside me was gone. I couldn’t feel it anymore. There was just me, my heart pounding, and the cold Alpha with his hand on my face.

“Nothing,” he muttered.

He let go.

“I don’t know what you think you saw,” I said, and hated that my voice shook. “But I don’t have a wolf. Everyone in Nightreach made very sure I knew that.”

Something moved behind his eyes. Then it shut down, like a door slamming.

“You’ll say nothing about this,” Fenris said. “To anyone.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

“Not to the staff. Not to your brother.” His jaw tightened. “Not to mine.”

That got my attention. “You’re keeping secrets from Dax and Rhys?”

“Go to bed, Flora.”

It was the first time he’d said my name.

I went.

I didn’t sleep. Again. I lay in the narrow bed behind the kitchen and stared at my hands in the moonlight, like they might tell me something.

Your eyes were silver.

It was impossible. I’d prayed for a wolf every full moon for twenty years. Nothing had ever answered.

Except, a quiet voice reminded me, the night you made your vow, the wind stopped.

I pulled the blanket over my head.

---

“You’re reassigned.”

Greta dropped the words on me at six in the morning, along with a silver tray holding a pot of coffee, one cup, and nothing else.

“Reassigned where?”

“To the Alpha.” She didn’t look happy about it. “Fenris. Personal service. You bring his coffee, you clean his study, you go where he tells you, and you stand where he puts you.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t say. He doesn’t say.” She pushed the tray into my hands. “Black. No sugar. Don’t spill it.”

The study was on the second floor, all dark wood and tall windows. Fenris sat behind a massive desk in a perfect charcoal suit, reading reports, like last night had never happened.

He didn’t look up.

I set down the tray, poured his coffee, and placed the cup at his right hand, exactly parallel to the edge of the desk. I’d seen his bedroom. I knew how he liked things.

His pen stopped moving.

He looked at the cup. Then at me.

“Why the reassignment?” I asked before I could stop myself.

Silence.

“If I did something wrong...”

“You’ll work here,” Fenris said, going back to his papers. “Clean the study. Run my errands. Stand by the window when I’m working.”

“Stand?”

“Where I can see you.”

My face went hot. I didn’t know whether it was anger or something worse.

“I’m not going to steal the silverware, Alpha.”

“I’m not worried about the silverware.”

He didn’t explain. He just drank the coffee.

So I stood by the window. For three hours. Dusted shelves that were already clean, reorganized books that were already organized, and felt the weight of his attention on the back of my neck every second, even though every time I glanced back, he was reading.

At ten, the study door opened without a knock.

Dax.

He stopped in the doorway. His dark green eyes went to me by the window, the feather duster in my hand, the coffee tray on his brother’s desk. Then they went to Fenris.

“She’s in the kitchen,” Dax said flatly. “Greta needs her.”

“Not anymore.” Fenris didn’t look up. “She’s mine now.”

The words dropped into the room like a stone into still water.

She’s mine now.

I knew he meant it as a servant. As a job. But my stomach didn’t seem to know that.

Dax’s jaw went tight. The air in the study changed, the same heavy pressure I’d felt in the hallway last night, but hotter. A muscle jumped in his cheek. For a second, his eyes flashed gold.

“Since when?” he said.

“Since this morning.”

“Why?”

Fenris finally looked up. The two of them stared at each other across the desk, and something passed between them, low and silent and dangerous, like two wolves deciding whether to fight.

Then Dax turned and walked out. The door slammed hard enough to rattle the windows.

I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding.

Fenris went back to his reports like nothing had happened.

“Is he always like that?” I asked.

“No,” Fenris said.

That was all.

---

I met Rhys properly that afternoon.

I was on my knees in the library across the hall, reshelving books Fenris had sent back, when a voice said, “You know he’s going to make you alphabetize those by author and year, right?”

I looked up.

Rhys Aurexian leaned in the doorway, hands in his pockets, rings glinting. His dark brown hair fell loose around his face, and his eyes were a warm, honey amber that made his smile look friendly.

It was a good trick.

“He hasn’t yet,” I said.

“Give him time.” He wandered in and crouched down beside me, close, picking up a book and turning it over in his long fingers. “So. How’s life as my brother’s shadow?”

“Quiet.”

“I bet.” He slid the book onto the shelf. Wrong section. I took it back out and put it in the right place. His smile widened. “You know what’s interesting, Flora?”

I didn’t like how he said my name. Like he was tasting it.

“What?”

“Fenris never does anything without a reason. Not breakfast. Not a phone call. Definitely not reassigning a kitchen girl to stand in his office all day.” He tilted his head. “So something happened. And I’m wondering what.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Mm.” He picked up another book. “Was it before or after midnight?”

My hands went still on the shelf.

Rhys smiled at me. Pleasant. Relaxed. His amber eyes didn’t blink.

“Funny thing about this house,” he said softly. “The walls are thick. But I hear everything.”

Then he stood, brushed off his knees, and handed me the book.

“Welcome to the family, sweetheart.”

He strolled out whistling.

I stayed on the floor for a long time.

---

That night, alone in my room, my phone buzzed.

Orion: Flo. You need to know something.

Orion: Hale got a formal invitation from the Aurexians. Alliance dinner. Saturday.

Orion: Hale’s going. Draven’s going.

A third message.

Orion: Nyssa’s going too. She’s been telling the whole pack she can’t wait to see how you look in a maid’s uniform.

I stared at the screen for a full mintue before I closed my eyes.

Nightreach was coming.

And they were coming to watch me kneel.