Chapter 7 

Selene’s POV 

‘Alpha’ the word still echoed in the air, cold and foreign, as he entered the room in full. My knees were still rooted to the cold tile floor. I was unable to get to my feet.

When he spoke, both the woman in the corner and the man they called Beta’s heads dropped.

The silence seemed to boom around me. “Leave.

All except her and Tibet.”

He said.

His voice wasn’t loud but it carried the authority that didn’t require volume.

The woman collected her trays without a word, slipped away and the door clicked shut behind her with an abrupt finality. Tibet remained still along the wall, hands clasped behind his back, his head still bent. I remained stationary too, my heart threatening to pound right out of my chest.

It was only when I forced the words from my throat before they were choked by shame and fear. “I’m so sorry. About last night.

I never meant to…I was drinking, and I’m so stupid.

I shouldn’t have. I just didn’t know who you were.

I would never have…” “Enough.”

The one word sliced through me like a hot knife.

I flinched and snapped my mouth shut.

I held back the rest of the apology behind my teeth as I swallowed. My pride had onlycostmesso much over the past couple of weeks and I couldn’t afford to throw what little of it I had left into sobbing in front of this man. Draven studied me for a moment.

His expression remained impenetrable. “Last night will never be spoken of again,” he said. “Neither by you, nor by anyone in this house.

Understood?”

I nodded vigorously. “Yes.

I understand completely.”

He turned slightly, as if already bored with the subject.

“You still have the job.

Not out of pity, or because of some sob story you feel you have to tell. Maya needs a tutor. The previous ones didn’t work out for reasons which are of no concern to you.

You start tomorrow.”

Relief so vast it felt like it would knock me down and flooded through me. I pressed both palms flat against the floor to anchor myself.

Mum.

Chemotherapy. A roof over my head. Food. Money.

All still potential possibilities if I could somehow remain afloat for long enough.

I swallowed, tasting the salty residue of unshed tears. “Thank you. I won’t let you down.

I swear I’ll-” “There are rules.” He cut over me without raising his voice again. My tongue fell from my mouth as I went silent again.

“The west wing of this house is entirely off-limits.

To you.

Forever.”

I nodded. I had no clue where it was, why it was off-limits, or how it might somehow be a negative influence in a grand scheme of things to someone like him but I nodded.

“You are not to leave the mansion under any circumstances after sunset.

No matter how important you feel it may be.” I nodded again. Now there was another thing to consider.

Late night trips to the hospital would need to be planned meticulously. “Do not ask questions about anything you see or hear within these walls,” he continued. “If you don’t understand something, ignore it.

Curiosity is a trait you do not possess.”

I felt a hot wave of anger well up in me at the blatant restriction on simple inquiry, at the reminder of the clinic room and their reverent whisper of “Alpha.” but I swallowed the words as I did the last. Survival before curiosity. “Maya comes first,” he stated unequivocally. “Her education, her security, her comfort.

If it ever comes to a choice between your well-being and hers, choose hers.

Immediately.”

I whispered.

“I understand.”

He regarded me with those eyes that betrayed nothing for another long moment. “Break any of these rules, and you are out. On the spot.

There will be no explanation.

Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

The word was steady, if I ignored the frantic beating that filled my ears. I hadn’t considered pride would be the thing to abandon it all, but Mum’s life definitely came before pride in this situation.

“Good,” he turned back to Tibet.

“Show her to the guest wing.

She starts in the morning.”

Tibet stepped forward.

I scrambled up, wobbly and in desperate need of a crash seat after my ordeal on the floor. My dress was crinkled, my hair must be everywhere, I surely looked as pathetic as I felt. I kept my eyes fixed firmly on the floor and followed Tibet out of the room.

We moved down the hall, the thick carpet swallowing our footsteps until we arrived at a corner where a set of tall, floor-to-ceiling windows let in afternoon sunlight.

Where in the world did afternoon turn so fast?

The hall turned and we walked a little further. And then I saw her. Standing still and as solid as if she’d bloomed from the patterned wall as if some magic trick pulled her there a child no more than six years of age with long, thick, dark hair that cascaded over her shoulders to the middle of her back and wore a formal looking plain white dress that suited her neither for her size nor for her age.

Her serious, enormous, ancient eyes seemed to bore right through me as she held her ground and gave me not one glance for anyone but my face.

Selene and Tibet paused. The girl’s expression remained placid, impassive, unsmiling she stared as if analyzing something precious that clearly didn’t belong and that in and of itself was quite startling. My own heart began thumping again not out of fear, but out of some inexplicable curiosity that I tried with every fiber in me to keep behind the imposed barrier that Draven had firmly, irreversibly, erected around me just moments ago.

This little girl must be Maya. The child I was supposed to enlighten. The little girl I was supposed to teach how to read, to learn to count, to introduce her to the wonderful world of books.

She tilted her head to the side, as if my stillness intrigued her, and with an clarity that surprised me for any child her age, spoke.

“You’re different.”

And then, without another word, she simply turned and walked down the opposite hallway of house in a steady, purposeful manner, melting into the vast silence of this overwhelming place and leaving only behind her small, receding footsteps.