08

RHYS

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

That kind of silence never felt peaceful to me. It reminded me of old nights before battles, before screams, the calm that came before something went wrong.

I stood by the window, one hand resting against the cold stone, watching the courtyard below. The moon was full. Sharp. It cut through the mist and found her room easily.

Sienna.

She sat on the edge of her bed, head bent low, hands over her stomach like she was afraid the world would take what little she had left. The light from the candle beside her trembled across her face, tracing the dark circles under her eyes.

She looked too thin.

I shouldn’t have noticed that. I shouldn’t have been watching at all. But I was.

She hadn’t touched the food I’d sent earlier, I could tell from the tray still sitting by her door when I walked past. She’d hidden it later, maybe to avoid questions. Maybe to keep peace with Elira.

Elira…

I exhaled slowly, jaw tight. I knew the sound of her sweetness. It had teeth, sharp and just waiting to bite you whole but I didn’t ask questions. I hadn’t in a long time. Asking meant prying open things better left buried.

Still, it sat wrong with me, the way Sienna flinched when anyone raised a voice, the way she moved like she expected pain.

I’d seen that before. In prisoners. In soldiers. In mirrors.

I ran a hand through my hair and stepped back from the window, trying to break the thought. She wasn’t my concern. She was here because I allowed it, because her unborn pup carried my bloodline’s future. That was all.

That was supposed to be all but when she shifted on the bed, humming something soft… a lullaby maybe, I stopped moving.

It was barely a sound, but it cut through everything else. Through the quiet. Through me.

For a second, I saw something else, not her, but the past. A small cabin. A woman’s voice. The same tune, low and gentle, before the world turned red.

The memory burned, sharp and unwanted. I forced it away, grabbed the bottle from the table, and poured until the glass overflowed.

Whiskey stung my throat. Didn’t help. Never did.

I looked back out the window. She’d lain down now, one arm curled protectively around her stomach, like she was shielding the only thing worth living for.

I should’ve turned away. I should've gone to bed but I didn’t.

I stayed there, just watching the faint rise and fall of her breathing. The candle burned low, then out. Darkness swallowed the room, but I still saw her… in my mind, in that silence.

“Goldie,” I muttered, barely more than a whisper. The word felt rough in my mouth. Too gentle for me. Too dangerous.

I didn’t know why I called her that. Maybe to make her less real. Maybe to remind myself she was still alive because I said so and because, for reasons I didn’t want to name, I couldn’t bring myself to end her.

My hand curled into a fist against the window frame.

This was a mistake. Keeping her. Letting her stay. Letting her exist where I could see her.

The things I’d done… the kind of man I’d become, she didn’t belong anywhere near it.

But I couldn’t look away.

When dawn began to bleed through the trees, I was still standing there. My shoulders ached, my eyes burned, but I didn’t move.

Maybe I’d stopped sleeping because I was afraid of what waited when I closed my eyes or maybe… because watching her breathe was the only thing left that reminded me I still could.

*********************

The light spilled through the glass, catching on the half-empty bottle by my desk. I hadn’t moved all night. My body was used to stillness; the kind that came from too many nights waiting for an enemy to make the first move.

The mansion was beginning to wake. I heard it in the shuffle of feet, the rustle of skirts, the low murmur of servants trying not to be heard and then, a sound that made me still.

A sharp crash which was followed by a yelp.It came from the lower hall.

I left the room before I thought about it. My boots hit the stairs, hard and deliberate. The smell of fear met me halfway down.

Two servants stood frozen near the corridor. Between them, Sienna knelt on the ground, glass scattered around her. A silver tray lay overturned, tea soaking into the rug.

Elira stood nearby, one hand on her hip, smiling that brittle, perfect smile that made my jaw ache.

“She tripped,” she said lightly when she saw me. “Careless thing.”

Sienna’s head was bowed. Her hand trembled as she tried to pick up the shards.

“Leave it,” I said.

My voice was quiet, but it stopped everyone. Even Elira’s smile faltered.

Sienna froze mid-motion. A small cut bled along her palm. I saw the way she tried to hide it, tucking her hand under her apron.

“Stand up.”

She obeyed, slow, cautious. Her breathing hitched like she wasn’t sure what I’d do.

Elira took a step closer, tilting her head. “Really, Rhys, it’s nothing. I was just about to…”

“Did I ask you to speak?”

Her lips parted, but no sound came. The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on.

I turned back to Sienna. “Who told you to carry silver?”

She blinked, startled. “I… I wasn’t told, Alpha. I only…”

“Answer the question.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Luna said it was fine.”

I nodded once. Slowly.

Elira’s expression didn’t change, but I saw the faint twitch in her jaw. She was good at masks, but I’d built mine long before she learned how to lie.

“Get Rhea,” I ordered the servants. “Clean this.”

They scattered. I took one step toward Sienna. She flinched before I even reached her. That tiny movement did something sharp to my chest; a memory flashing quick and unwanted. The dungeon. The chains. The way fear smelled when you were the one causing it.

I stopped inches from her. Her scent was faint…soap, ash, something soft beneath it all.

“You’ll stay away from silver,” I said evenly. “If anyone gives it to you again, you tell me.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Yes, Alpha.”

“Good.”

Then I turned to the guards standing by the entrance; two males who’d been pretending not to listen. “You.”

The taller one stepped forward immediately. “Alpha.”

“You were on duty last night.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

“And yet, you allowed a pregnant she-wolf to carry a silver tray through the hall.”

His throat bobbed. “I…I didn’t…”

“Stop talking.”

I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t need to. I just looked at him, long enough for the color to drain from his face.

“Take him outside,” I said quietly to the other guard. “Five lashes.”

The man beside him froze. “Alpha…”

“Ten,” I corrected, without looking away.

No one spoke after that. Elira’s perfect smile had vanished entirely now. Sienna stared at the floor, silent, pale.

When the guards dragged the man out, his boots scraping the tiles, I didn’t move. I just stood there; calm, expressionless… until the echoes faded down the corridor.

Only then did I glance at Sienna again.

Her eyes lifted for a heartbeat, confusion and something like disbelief in them. She thought my kindness meant safety. She’d forgotten who I was, I let her bask in her thoughts.

Sienna’s breath caught. I held her gaze another second, then turned and walked away.

Behind me, I heard Elira exhale sharp, unsteady. The sound of someone reminded who truly ruled this house and though I didn’t look back, I knew Sienna wouldn’t forget either.

Kindness meant nothing here. Not from me. Not anymore and the earlier she knew that, the better for her.