Chapter Five

The servants' wing was a stark contrast to the rest of the grand estate. Where the main house featured polished hardwood, plush rugs, and towering stone fireplaces, this corridor was narrow, cold, and smelled of floor wax and old stone.

Mrs. Gable stopped in front of a plain wooden door at the very end of the hall, near the back exit of the kitchen.

"This is yours," she said, unlocking the door and pushing it open. "It's small, but it’s private. You’ll find clean sheets in the wardrobe. The bathroom is shared with the laundry staff, but since we’re short-handed, you’ll mostly have this end of the wing to yourself."

I stepped inside, careful not to let the fabric of my coat rustle too loudly. The room was barely larger than a walk-in closet. It held a narrow twin bed, a scarred wooden wardrobe, and a single window that looked out onto the dark, rain-slicked stone of the estate’s rear courtyard. It was cold, damp, and sparse,but to me, it felt like a fortress.

"Thank you, Mrs. Gable," I said sincerely. "It's perfect."

"Get yourself unpacked and report to the kitchen in thirty minutes," she instructed, her gray eyes narrowing slightly as she studied my pale face one last time. "You look like you're about to collapse, Ruben. Drink some water. I need you sharp when the Alphas get back. If they smell even a hint of weakness or distress on you, they’ll ask questions I don’t want to answer."

"I’ll be ready," I promised.

She nodded once, a sharp, efficient gesture, and pulled the door shut behind her.

The moment the lock clicked, my knees gave out. I slid down the front of the door, landing heavily on the cold floorboards. I let out a ragged, shaking breath, my hands trembling as I unbuttoned my heavy coat.

"We made it, sweet girl," I whispered, tears burning the backs of my eyes as I carefully peeled back the fabric.

Maya lay nestled in the sling against my chest, her tiny fists pressed against her cheeks. She let out a soft, adorable sigh, her little nose twitching as she slept. But as I leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead, a cold spike of panic seized my chest.

Her scent.

Newborn shifters, especially those born of strong Alpha bloodlines, radiated a highly distinct, sweet, milky scent. To a human, she just smelled like a clean baby. But to the three dominant Alphas ruling this house? The moment Sky, River, or Tanner walked anywhere near this wing of the house, they would detect a strange pup's presence. They would track it straight to my door.

I scrambled to my feet, my mind racing as the heavy, chemical suppressants in my own blood made my head spin. I had to hide her. Not just her body, but her scent.

I looked around the tiny room. The wardrobe was too small, and the space under the bed was too exposed. Then, I noticed a narrow, recessed door in the corner of the room, half-hidden by the shadow of the wardrobe.

I hurried over and pulled it open.

It was a disused pantry, once used to store dry goods before the main kitchen had been remodeled. It was deep, dark, and completely windowless. Wooden shelves lined the walls, crowded with old, dusty bottles of bleach, industrial ammonia, concentrated pine cleaners, and boxes of strongly scented lavender laundry detergent. The air inside the small closet was thick, acrid, and nearly suffocating with the sharp, artificial sting of chemicals.

My eyes watered from the fumes, but a desperate, hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat.

It was perfect.

The harsh, overriding chemicals in this pantry would act as a natural shield. The stinging fumes of the bleach and pine would completely choke out and scramble any trace of Maya’s sweet pup scent, neutralizing it before it could ever drift out into the hallway.

"Forgive me, Ruby," I whispered, my heart aching at the thought of putting my precious niece in a utility closet. "But this is the only way to keep her alive."

Working with feverish speed, I dragged a wooden crate from the corner of the room into the pantry. I lined the bottom with my own thick, woolen winter sweaters, creating a soft, insulated nest. I folded a warm flannel shirt to act as a makeshift mattress, ensuring she would be perfectly comfortable and protected from the draft.

Gently, with hands that wouldn't stop shaking, I lifted Maya out of her sling and lowered her into the hidden crib.

She stirred, her tiny eyelashes fluttering as she adjusted to the change in temperature. For a terrifying second, I thought she was going to cry. I leaned over the crate, letting her grab onto my index finger with her tiny, incredibly strong grip.

"Shh, baby," I cooed softly, my voice thick with unshed tears. "Uncle Ruben is right here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you."

As if sensing my voice, she settled back down, her tiny mouth forming a little 'O' as she drifted back into a deep sleep.

I gently pulled my hand away and stood up. I left the pantry door cracked just a fraction of an inch,enough to let fresh air circulate from my room, but tight enough that the heavy curtain of chemical smells stayed concentrated inside.

I walked over to the small sink in the corner of my room and splashed freezing water onto my face. The icy shock cleared some of the chemical fog in my brain left by the suppressants, but the deep, aching exhaustion in my bones remained. I looked in the mirror. My skin was dangerously pale, my eyes wide and haunted. I looked like a ghost.

You have thirty minutes, I reminded myself, gripping the edges of the sink until my knuckles turned white. Wash the mud off your boots. Put on a clean shirt. Masquerade as the perfect, invisible Beta.

Because if I failed, the three Alphas waiting upstairs would tear everything apart.