Chapter Three — The Room Beside the Beta

When morning came again, Lillieth expected the dream to end.

She expected to wake on the hard cot in the narrow storage room, the thin blanket twisted around her legs, and to hear Kade’s voice from outside telling her to move, to work, to face another day in a pack that had already decided what she was worth.

Instead, when she opened her eyes, she heard voices. Not angry. Not cruel. Quiet, purposeful—maids’ voices. Cleaning, rearranging, whispering to each other like the air had shifted in the Beta’s wing.

Lillieth sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. Her body still hurt, but not like before. The salve Kade had used had dulled the ache in her hands to something manageable. She brushed her braid off her shoulder and stood, listening.

“…in here?” one of the voices asked softly.

“Yes, the Alpha ordered it personally,” another whispered back. “Everything new. She’s to have her own bath.”

Lillieth froze.

The Alpha ordered it?

Her heart tripped.

When she stepped into the main room, she found Kade standing near the doorway with his arms crossed, watching as three maids moved in and out of the chamber next to his. The door was open wide, and sunlight spilled through fresh curtains. The scent of new fabric, polished wood, and lavender soap filled the air.

“Good, you’re awake,” Kade said without turning his head. “Come here.”

She obeyed, cautious, every step careful. “What’s happening?”

“Change of quarters.” His tone was brisk, efficient, but there was a trace of something else under it. Resignation, maybe. Or defiance. “The Alpha doesn’t want you in the storage room.”

Lillieth blinked, unsure if she’d heard right. “He—he doesn’t?”

Kade finally looked at her. “Apparently your misery was a bad look.”

She bit her lip, uncertain how to answer that.

He sighed and gestured toward the open doorway. “Go see it before they finish. Better you than him. He won’t come himself.”

Lillieth stepped forward hesitantly.

The room beyond the door was bright, warm, and for the first time in her memory—beautiful. A real bed stood against the far wall, sturdy oak carved with the MoonRiver crest. The sheets were snow-white, untouched. A thick blanket folded neatly at the foot, soft and inviting. Pillows—actual pillows, not sacks of straw—were piled high at the headboard.

A small dresser gleamed beside the bed, its drawers half-open to reveal new clothes folded neatly inside. Dresses of soft cotton, tunics, trousers for work, even sleepwear—all new. A mirror hung above it, polished so perfectly that for a heartbeat Lillieth didn’t recognize her own reflection.

Next to the window stood a table with a vase of wildflowers. Fresh ones. Purple and white, from the forest just beyond the pack borders.

The bathroom was through a side door, tiled in pale stone. There was a tub. A real tub, large enough to soak in, already half-filled with water that steamed faintly in the cool morning light. Soap waited on the edge, shaped into smooth ovals.

Lillieth’s throat closed. Her hands trembled. She couldn’t speak.

Kade stood in the doorway, watching her reaction with that guarded look he always wore when he didn’t want her to see what he was thinking.

“He wanted it ready before you woke,” he said finally.

Her voice came out small. “Why?”

Kade’s mouth tightened. “Because he may not claim you, but he won’t let the pack see his mate treated like trash.”

Her chest constricted painfully at that word—mate.

“He still hates me,” she whispered.

“Probably,” Kade said. “But hate doesn’t erase instinct. The bond’s a living thing. It won’t let him rest easy if you’re miserable.”

Lillieth turned back to the room, eyes wide. “It’s… beautiful.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Kade said. “You deserve at least one room in this house that doesn’t smell like fear.”

Tears pricked behind her eyes, but she blinked them away quickly. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“Don’t thank me. Thank him,” Kade said, and then, quieter, “even if he’ll never let you.”

The maids finished their work and slipped out, bowing quickly. The youngest, a petite woman with golden hair braided back from her face, lingered near the door. She smiled shyly at Lillieth.

“This is Jane,” Kade said. “She’s assigned to you from now on. If I’m not here, she is. You don’t go anywhere without one of us.”

Jane dipped her head. “It’s an honor, Luna.”

Lillieth blinked, startled. “I—I’m not—”

Jane’s smile softened but didn’t fade. “You are to me.”

For a second, the words didn’t make sense. Then they hit all at once, hard and warm. Her chest ached, but not from pain this time.

Kade cleared his throat. “Jane knows her orders. You stay in her sight when you’re not with me. Understood?”

“Yes,” Lillieth said quickly, still stunned.

“Good.” Kade turned to go. “I have drills with the eastern patrols. You’ll come.”

Lillieth’s head snapped up. “With you?”

He nodded once. “You stay with me throughout the day unless told otherwise. If I’m in the yard, you’re nearby. If I’m at council, you wait outside the door with Jane. That’s the Alpha’s rule.”

“The Alpha’s rule,” she repeated quietly.

Kade gave a humorless half-smile. “Seems he’s very invested in keeping you miserable, but not too miserable.”

Lillieth didn’t trust herself to answer.

When he left, Jane turned toward her with a bright smile that felt like sunlight breaking through gray clouds. “He’s grumpy,” she said cheerfully, “but he means well. Come, my Luna—let’s get you ready. You can’t follow Beta Kade around looking like they pulled you out of the laundry.”

Lillieth actually laughed, startled by the sound of her own voice. It had been so long since she’d made that sound that it felt foreign. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Jane clapped her hands once. “Start with a bath. You smell like river water and fear. Let’s fix at least one of those.”

Lillieth’s cheeks flushed, but she let Jane guide her into the bathroom. Steam curled up from the water, perfumed faintly with lavender and cedar. It felt unreal to touch something clean, to dip her fingers in warmth that didn’t sting.

She sank into the tub slowly, biting back a soft sigh when heat enveloped her body. Every bruise, every ache loosened its grip on her bones. For the first time since the bond, she felt human again.

Jane busied herself arranging the new clothes nearby. “You’ll like Kade,” she said conversationally. “He’s quiet, but he’s good. When Hannah died, he went cold for a long while. Wouldn’t talk to anyone but the Alpha. But you… he seems different with you.”

Lillieth blinked. “Different?”

Jane nodded. “Protective. Almost gentle.” She looked at her with a small grin. “You’ve been here less than a week and you already have the two strongest wolves in this pack walking in circles around you. I’d say that’s something.”

Lillieth sank lower into the water, embarrassed. “They don’t circle me. They fight themselves.”

“Maybe,” Jane said softly. “But either way, they’re circling.”

---

By midday, Lillieth found herself walking beside Kade across the training grounds, the cold air sharp but not cruel. The sun filtered through the pines, scattering light across his dark hair. He moved with purpose, checking formations, giving orders. She stayed close, silent, as instructed, her fingers tucked into the sleeves of her new coat—deep forest green with silver stitching.

Every wolf who passed looked twice. Not because they admired her, but because they couldn’t believe what they saw: the once-bullied omega in clean clothes, walking beside the Beta like she belonged.

The whispers followed her like smoke.

“Is that really her?” “The Alpha’s reject?” “She looks different.” “She looks like a Luna.”

Kade ignored all of it. If anyone stared too long, one sharp glance from him was enough to drop their eyes. He didn’t have to growl. His authority was enough.

When the drills ended, he called her to follow as he met with patrol leaders, discussed routes, planned training rotations. She didn’t understand half of it, but the cadence of his voice—steady, commanding, calm—was enough to quiet the parts of her that still trembled when someone spoke too loud.

By the time they returned to the packhouse, she was exhausted. Not from punishment. From movement. From existing without waiting for pain.

Jane waited in the hallway with a tray of food. Actual food—fresh bread, soup, and water that didn’t taste of iron. “For you, Luna,” she said brightly.

Lillieth hesitated. “Did the Alpha—?”

Jane smiled. “He didn’t say it, but the kitchen knows. Orders came from above.”

Lillieth ate slowly, almost reverently. Each bite felt strange, too good to be real. Kade leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed, pretending not to watch but watching anyway.

When she finished, he said quietly, “Get some rest. You’ve got meetings tomorrow.”

“Meetings?” she repeated, startled.

He gave a faint grin. “The Alpha’s decided you’ll attend morning briefings. Silent, but present. Apparently, if he’s cursed with a mate, she’ll at least learn how the pack runs.”

Her heart twisted. “So I’m a lesson now?”

Kade shrugged. “A well-fed one.”

She almost smiled.

When he left, Jane helped her into bed. The sheets were soft and cool, the pillow thick under her head. For a long time, she lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to understand how her life had changed so quickly. She still wasn’t safe. Draven’s temper could turn this new reality to ashes with a word. But for the first time, she had warmth. Food. Company.

And people—Kade, Jane—who didn’t treat her like a curse.

Jane sat at the edge of the bed, humming softly as she braided Lillieth’s damp hair. “You’ll see, Luna,” she said quietly. “The Moon always finds balance. Even the Alpha can’t fight her forever.”

Lillieth didn’t answer. But when she finally drifted to sleep, her dreams were gentler.