C7

Elira Ashwyn shifts her weight on the hard wooden stool, her dark skin flushing with heat as the interview panel murmurs.

"Why would you hand her an exam meant for high-ranking estate managers with a decade of territory experience?" the second female interviewer asks, glaring at Vespera Hollowmere. She snatches up Elira's file from the desk, scanning her achievements. "Elira Ashwyn has top marks from the academy. She managed four border keeps before her graduation. We need someone who actually understands high-court logistics, Vespera. Do you have a personal vendetta against her?"

Vespera bites her red-painted lip, her yellow eyes flashing with hidden malice. "Why would I care about a low-ranking stray?" She shrugs, pretending to look bored. "There were plenty of rumors about her back at the academy. She is not as pure as she acts. She spent her first year trying to lure high-beta males away from their mated pairs. I know her scent better than you do. She has a trash reputation, and our grand keep cannot take the risk."

"I see," the female interviewer sighs, deflating in her chair. "If that is true, we cannot let her near the Alpha's private domain. I thought you were just being petty, but we cannot risk bringing a rogue element into the estate. Listen, there is a roast-boar tavern across the plaza. Let us cut this session short and get some mead."

She drops Elira's parchment back onto the table, completely unwilling to fight Vespera and risk her own position. Skill meant nothing in the high courts if an Alpha suspected a female of dishonor.

It takes Elira two hours by border carriage to reach the small timber cabin she shares with Kaedrin Thornvale.

Her four-foot-five frame aches with deep fatigue the moment she steps inside, her plush body sinking heavily onto the narrow bench by the cold hearth.

She knew Vespera held a grudge from their academy days, but seeing her standing at the gate of the Ravenshade Moon Dominion made it obvious how the evaluation would go.

A soft chime echoes from her scrying mirror on the table, a glowing blood-red seal flashing across the glass to confirm her rejection from the estate management board.

Elira pushes herself up, pulling her parchment ledgers toward her. She refuses to break. Elder Maelis needs medicine, and there are other high-tier pack keeps along the northern ridge that need estate managers.

Her stomach lets out an embarrassing, loud growl. She has not tasted food since dawn. She hurries into the tiny kitchen corner, slicing cold salted beef and slapping it between two thick pieces of hard crust bread.

The heavy timber door creaks open, letting in the sharp winter air. Kaedrin steps inside, his massive frame filling the doorway, his worn dark tunic clinging to his broad chest. He lets out a long, heavy breath and drops his cloak onto a wooden chest.

His sharp grey eyes land on her scattered parchments and estate ledgers. "Are you looking for work in the city keeps?"

"I finished my academy training months ago," Elira says, chewing her dry meal quickly. "I have to earn silver now. I made extra meat slices if your wolf is hungry."

Kaedrin looks at her plush, soft body, his gaze dropping to her full, darker lips as she licks a crumb from the corner of her mouth. His wolf rumbles deep in his chest, a sudden wave of heat spiking in his groin. "I'll take the food if you're offering."

Elira sets the wooden plate on the table and sits across from him.

Kaedrin's eyes catch the obsidian emblem of the Ravenshade Moon Dominion sticking out from under her papers. He picks it up, his brow furrowing into a cold line. "You went to the central spire today?"

"I did," Elira says, staring down at her lap. "Failed the evaluation. I am looking at the smaller border packs now."

Kaedrin takes a slow bite of the meat, his jaw setting hard. "Why did they turn you down? Your estate records are spotless."

Elira shrugs her rounded shoulders, trying to sound unbothered. "An old enemy from my academy days sits on the hiring panel. Vespera Hollowmere. She made sure my name was dragged through the dirt before I could even speak to the grand manager."

Kaedrin's grey eyes turn instantly black, his Alpha aura flaring so hard the wooden table creaks under his hand.

Osric Winterfang had mentioned the high-court evaluation panel earlier that morning, but Kaedrin had not realized Vespera was using her position to settle petty academy grudges against his bound female.

"An old grudge," Kaedrin murmurs, his tone dropping into a deadly low pitch. "I see."

Elira misses the lethal shift in his voice as she focuses back on her list, marking off three more estate houses that require full-time managers.

The small cabin feels cramped with all his hunting gear piled near the door. Dried herbs hang from the rafters, and heavy iron cooking pots clutter the small stone counter.

She decides to spend the afternoon cleaning the space to keep her mind off her empty purse.

Elira gathers a stack of old tactical map scrolls, glancing over at Kaedrin as he stretches out on the wooden bench. Even in his dusty tunic, his dangerous, thick-muscled frame looks like a high-court warlord resting between battles.

Her heart gives a traitorous, hard thud against her ribs when his dark eyes flutter open, catching her staring straight at his chest.

"You look like you want something, little female," Kaedrin purrs, a slow, wicked smirk touching his lips. "Do you need me to press you against that wall, or are you just admiring your mate?"

Elira turns her face away instantly, her cheeks burning hot as her core throbs with a sudden, unwanted pulse of slick heat. "Go to the kitchen basin and scrub the grease off those iron pans if you want to be useful."

Kaedrin chuckles, a deep, raspy sound that vibrates through the small room. He stands up, his towering six-foot-four frame looming over her for a second before he saunters into the kitchen alcove, rolling his sleeves up over his thick, scarred forearms.

Elira watches him silently as she wipes down the wooden shelves.

The pack rumors had called him a useless, violent rogue who survived on border scraps, but since she entered his cabin, he had respected her boundaries, shared his food, and protected her from her family's venom. He was far better than the noble bastards in the Ashwyn clan.

Suddenly, a loud, violent crash of shattered iron and stone echoes from the kitchen alcove.