Fated To The Three

Every morning at exactly 5:40, the hot water stopped. It was not because the boiler was old. It was because someone on the upper floors used it first. Aria knew this. She had lived on the Ironblood Pack estate for eleven years. She had learned all the small, cruel rules of the place.

She stood at the sink. The water was cold. She did not show pain. Long ago she had stopped being surprised by the cold. She washed her face quickly. Then she looked in the mirror. Dark auburn hair. Grey eyes that looked tired. A face ready for a hard day. She was eighteen years old. She had come here when she was seven. She arrived with a bag that smelled like her mother's coat. Nothing else.

In her years here, she had learned three important things. First, the lower washroom hot water was gone by 5:40. The household staff upstairs took it. Nobody said this, but everyone knew. Second, if she wanted food before work, she had to reach the kitchen before Greta finished her rounds. Greta gave the good bread to early workers. Late workers got only hard crusts. Greta's rules were strict. Third, to survive in a place that did not want her, she had to be invisible. She had become very good at this.

She tied her hair back, fixed her shirt, and looked normal. Not a person anyone would notice. Then she went to work.

The kitchen was warm and noisy at 5:50. Warmth was nice. Noise hid her. She looked for Greta. Greta was a big woman with iron grey hair. She always thought she was right. Greta said, "You are late." Aria said, "It is 5:50." Greta said, "Shift starts at 5:45." Aria said, "Mine starts at six." Greta looked at her like she was a piece of unwanted furniture. Then Greta told her the cleaning list for the day. East corridor, training hall, and the Alpha's study before noon. Aria checked the list. She thought about if she would have time to eat. The answer was probably not.

A kitchen boy named Pem whispered to her. He said there was bread behind the flour jar. Nyla, her friend, had saved it. Aria found the bread. It was a little hard. She ate it in less than a minute while Greta's back was turned. Then she got her cleaning supplies and went to the east corridor.

The east corridor was long. It had a dining room, sitting rooms nobody used, a library, a weapons room, and at the end, the rooms of the Alpha's three sons. Aria always started cleaning at the sons' end while they slept. That way she could finish near the common areas when the house woke up. It was safer. She had learned to stay away from the brothers long ago.

The corridor was quiet. Grey morning light came through tall windows. Pictures of Voss ancestors hung on the wall. They all looked unhappy. Aria had made up names for them. One near the weapons room was Gerald. He looked like he had eaten something bad and never forgot it. She began mopping near Gerald's picture. She worked without hurry. If she hurried, she left streaks. Streaks would be noticed.

She was near the library when a door opened. She did not stop. She turned slightly away. Eyes down. Like furniture. Footsteps. Slow and heavy. Coming from the last door on the right. She knew the sound of each brother's walk. She had not tried to learn it. Her body just remembered threats. Caden walked like he saved energy. Cole walked like the floor made him angry. Callum walked like his mind was far away. These steps were Cole's.

She kept looking at the floor. The steps slowed near her. One second. Two. Three.

Cole said, "You missed a spot."

She did not look up. "Good morning."

"I said you missed a spot."

"I heard you." She moved the mop a little to the left, like she was fixing something. "Good morning," she said again.

There was a pause. Heat came off him. It felt unfair. A person like him should feel cold. He said, "You have attitude this early?"

She said, "I have a corridor to finish."

Another pause. Then the footsteps continued, heavy and sure, going toward the main house. Aria let out a breath she had been holding. She kept mopping. She had a rule. She would not think about bad things before seven in the morning.

She finished the corridor in forty minutes. Next was the training hall. It smelled of sweat and hard work. She swept the stone floor and wiped the equipment. The simple work calmed her.

Nyla appeared in the doorway with two cups of tea. "Good tea," Nyla said. "Not the cheap kind."

Aria said, "You are a good person."

Nyla sat on a bench. She asked about the corridor. Aria told her Cole came out early. He said she missed a spot. She moved the mop and he left. Nyla looked thoughtful. Then Nyla shared news. The brothers were back for good. No more border patrol for at least six months. They would stay at the estate. And in eight days was the Blood Moon Ceremony. The triplets' twentieth birthday. A big shift in pack power. Something would change.

Aria drank her tea and said nothing. Her neck had felt strange for weeks. Not fear. More like the feeling before a big storm. Something was coming.

Nyla said, "Maybe you should think about what happens after your birthday."

Aria said, "I think about it every day. Now let me work."

Nyla stood to leave. Then she stopped. She said there was something in the old records room. A box on the bottom shelf, behind some land survey books. It had Aria's mother's name on it. Aria's hands went still. Nyla left. The room went quiet.

The old records room was locked at night. Staff were not allowed in without permission. If she got caught, the punishment would be bad. But her mother's name. After eleven years of knowing nothing. She had learned to be invisible because no one ever came for her. Now maybe there was something.

She finished cleaning without really seeing what she did. She decided. Tonight, she would go to the records room. Even if it was not allowed.

The afternoon passed. She cleaned the Alpha's study. She ate dinner quickly. She waited for the estate to become quiet. When it was dark, she left her room and moved through the halls, counting steps, counting hours, as she always did.

She was three turns from the records room when a hand closed around her wrist and pulled her into the alcove.

She didn't scream. Eleven years of training held. But her heart slammed against her ribs, and the supply bag slipped from her shoulder and hit the stone.

Rook released her wrist. Stepped back. His face was unreadable in the dark.

"Not tonight," he said. "The records room is being watched."

She stared at him. "By who."

"By someone who knows what you're looking for." He glanced down the corridor, then back at her. "Tomorrow. The Alpha's study. Before you clean it. There's something in his desk you need to see before Caden gets there."

He was gone before she could ask anything else. The alcove was cold and the dark pressed in and the back of her neck was no longer humming.

It was screaming.