Chapter Nine – The Bite of Silence

I couldn’t eat.

The kitchen buzzed around me—pots clanging, fire roaring, voices barking orders in time with the clang of iron against stone. But none of it landed. It passed through me like smoke.

Mistress Tessa shoved a basket into my arms without looking at me. "Herbs. Cellar. Now."

I didn’t speak. Just nodded and turned, hugging the basket to my chest like it might shield me from the ache just beneath my skin.

I hadn’t seen him since the tunnels.

But I felt him everywhere.

Every time I turned a corner, I thought I’d find him waiting. Every time a breeze moved through the corridor, I caught a trace of pine and fire and my pulse spiked. My body hadn’t stopped humming since he’d pressed me to that wall and looked at me like I was something sacred and forbidden all at once.

I hadn’t told anyone.

Not even Elara.

Because how did you say it? How did you speak the truth aloud when you didn’t understand it yourself?

I passed into the dark stairwell that led to the lower cellar, where the stone smelled of earth and rot and time. The light was thinner here. The world quieter. Still.

And yet I wasn’t alone.

I paused on the third step.

There, half-shadowed near the bottom landing, stood a tall figure I recognized instantly.

Derrin.

The Alpha’s Beta. His right hand. His enforcer.

He wasn’t looking at me. Not exactly. But he didn’t need to.

The weight of his attention filled the air like the slow pull of a snare tightening.

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

But I knew.

Whatever this was between Caelan and me—whatever it was becoming—I wasn’t the only one who had noticed.

And suddenly, the silence bit deep enough to bleed.

"You’ve caught his eye," Derrin said finally, his voice quiet, but not unkind.

My hands tightened around the basket. "I... I don’t know what you’re talking about."

He stepped closer, slowly, cautiously, like he didn’t want to startle me. "You don’t need to be afraid. I’m not here to threaten you. Just to understand."

I glanced up at him, startled by the gentleness in his face. In the Hollow, no one looked at me like that—not with patience, not with care.

"Caelan doesn’t look at anyone the way he looks at you," he said, tone warm, steady. "I’ve known him my whole life, and I’ve seen him burn down villages without blinking. But you... you make him hesitate."

I swallowed. "I didn’t do anything."

He nodded. "Sometimes that’s all it takes."

A pause passed between us. Then he asked, "Who are you, really? Where did you come from?"

"I’m no one," I said, and it came out shakier than I meant. "I was raised here. In the kitchens. I don’t remember anything before that... I was too small when I came. Some say I was left at the back door one winter night and Mistress Tessa took me in. That’s all I’ve ever known."

He studied me for a long moment, and then to my surprise, nodded.

"I believe you," he said. "But if you ever feel unsafe, or if anything changes... you come to me. Understand?"

I nodded, but something tugged at me.

He hesitated, studying me with a soft furrow between his brows. "Do you remember anything at all? From before the kitchens? Even the smallest thing?"

I started to shake my head, the answer on my lips automatic—until something stirred in the back of my mind. A sound. A whisper of melody I couldn’t place.

"There was a tune," I said slowly. "I think... I used to hum it when I was little. I don’t know where it came from."

Derrin leaned in slightly. "Can you hum it now?"

I looked away, suddenly self-conscious—but something deeper than shame answered. I parted my lips and let the tune roll out, soft and slow, no words, just notes.

The moment it left me, the air shifted.

Derrin froze, eyes fixed on me like I’d turned to flame. His pupils dilated. His breath caught. It was like the world narrowed to the sound alone—like he was caught in something he couldn’t escape.

And in his face, I saw something wild and raw: adoration. Longing. As if I were the very center of his universe.

But then his expression shifted. His feet moved forward without thought, closing the space between us. His breathing grew heavier, lips parted slightly, as though some primal urge was guiding him beyond his own will. I stepped back instinctively, pressing into the wall behind me, but he followed, gaze ravenous and distant.

"What are you doing—?" I whispered, voice trembling.

He didn’t answer. His eyes never left mine, but it wasn’t me he was seeing—not truly. It was something else entirely. Like I was a vision. A drug. Something he had to consume.

His hand lifted, almost brushing the hair from my cheek, and I panicked. The tune cut off in my throat like a rope had snapped.

In a blink, the spell shattered.

Derrin recoiled as if struck, blinking rapidly and stepping back like the floor had opened beneath him. "What were we talking about?"

I stared at him, heart thundering. He had no idea.

None at all.

He looked at me strangely then, like I had grown horns. His gaze was concerned now, not hungry.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, voice steady but tinged with unease.

I realized I’d been staring—wide-eyed, breath shallow, spine pressed flat against the wall. My fingers were trembling.

"You… you changed," I whispered.

His brow furrowed deeper. "What do you mean?"

I swallowed hard, searching for words that wouldn’t betray what I’d seen. "Nothing. Just… the way you looked at me. It scared me."

He blinked again, clearly trying to recall something that no longer existed. "I would never hurt you. You know that, right?"

I nodded slowly, but something inside me wasn’t so sure. Not because I feared him—but because I feared whatever had just taken hold of him. Of us both.

I stared at him, heart thundering.

He had no idea.

None at all.