LOGINSerena
I woke up and hated myself before my eyes even opened. Then I saw the silk. Sheets soft, warm, clinging to skin that shouldn’t be bare. The ceiling stretched endlessly above me, pale, arched, impossible. A crystal chandelier hung like a frozen storm, light scattering across walls I didn’t know. It took a second for it to hit me. This wasn’t my room. I blinked, the ache in my lower back reminding me I wasn’t dreaming. The sheets were tangled around me, warm and soft and clinging to bare skin. My bare skin. My breath caught. I turned slowly, heart hammering. Kael lay a few feet away, on the far side of the bed, one arm bent behind his head, his chest rising and falling in deep, even breaths. He was still asleep, the pale morning light from the glass balcony casting shadows across his sculpted torso and collarbone. He looked calm. Peaceful. Not at all like the man who’d pressed me into this mattress hours ago with fire in his eyes and pain in his touch. Not like the Alpha. Just… a man. A man who wasn’t supposed to touch me. Who definitely wasn’t supposed to want me. And yet—there we were. Naked. Twisted in the same bed. My throat tightened. I sat up slowly, clutching the sheets to my chest, heart in freefall. My dress was somewhere near the floor, my undergarments scattered, forgotten in the heat of everything we shouldn’t have done. Panic bloomed in my chest. I needed to leave. Now. I slid off the bed as quietly as possible, every movement feeling ten times louder in the silence. I found my dress, wrinkled beyond saving, and pulled it on hurriedly. My hands shook as I grabbed my shoes and padded barefoot across the cold marble floor. Kael didn’t stir. He didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t call out. And that hurt more than it should have. The halls were still quiet when I slipped out. Most of the guests had left hours ago, and only a few guards were stationed at the main entrance. I avoided them, moving fast but trying not to look like I was running. My quarters were on the far side of the estate, tucked behind the laundry corridor where the staff slept. Just before I turned the final hallway, I saw her. My mother. She was standing outside our shared room, adjusting the tie on her apron, her hair tied up in a messy bun. She looked tired but ready, the same way she always did when starting another long day of scrubbing, cooking, serving. She spotted me immediately. “Where have you been?” she asked, brows drawing in. I stopped short. My tongue stumbled. “I… I slept in Ella’s room. I was helping her clean up after the feast, and I was too tired to walk back.” Mom frowned slightly. “Ella? That talkative one from the guest wing?” I nodded quickly. “Yes. Her.” She gave me a once-over. “You’re not even in uniform yet. Go inside and freshen up. Meet me in the kitchen. We have to start clearing out the banquet room before noon.” “Yes, ma.” I darted past her into the room before she could ask anything else. The door shut behind me with a click, and I pressed my back against it, eyes wide, chest rising and falling too fast. I’d done it. I’d lied. To her. My mother — the only person who had stood by me when the world turned its back. The one who raised me alone, who cleaned this mansion for years so I could eat and go to school and not end up lost. And I lied to her face. All to cover up what I did with the Alpha. The room was dim and quiet. My half of the space was still neat — the bed untouched, the corner shelf stacked with folded uniforms. I sat on the edge of the bed and clutched my knees to my chest. The weight of it all crashed over me. What had I done? What had I allowed? The night replayed in my mind in flashes. Kael’s breath against my skin. His mouth on mine. The way his hands trembled when he touched me. How we didn’t speak. How we couldn’t speak. Because everything between us was wrong. I buried my face in my knees. My throat ached, my chest tight. I wasn’t stupid. I knew what that night was. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t softness. It was desperation. Loneliness. Alcohol. Weakness. And I’d let it happen. I gave him everything I had the one part of myself that no one else had ever touched because for one selfish second, I wanted to feel seen. But now? Now I felt invisible all over again. I didn’t know what I expected to wake up to. A whispered apology? A soft touch? Maybe some part of me thought he’d still be looking at me like he did last night. Like I was more than just a maid. More than just human. I just let myself fall in bed, wrapping myself with my sheets trying to get those memories out of mind. Maybe I should just avoid him, I don’t want to find out what his reaction will be or what he will say when he sees me and realizes what he had done with me. I am so ashamed of myself right now. How will I look him in the face again? Or should I just pretend like nothing happened? No, of course something happened, something bitter or sweet i don’t know how to feel but I like the way he made me feel seen and heard and I liked the way he worshipped me like a goddess he’d never seen before. I can’t lie, I have never felt so alive and wanted like he made me feel and maybe it wasn’t bad after all But he didn’t even wake up before I even left And maybe that was the answer. Because to him, it probably meant nothing. Just a mistake. And now I had to live with it. I pressed my face into my hands, trying to stop the fire in my chest. Trying to tell myself it had been just a night. But it wasn’t. It was everything. Everything I shouldn’t have wanted, everything I shouldn’t have felt. I closed my eyes. And in that darkness, I remembered. Not last night. Not this morning. The first time I saw him. The first moment Kael stepped into my life, like a storm I couldn’t outrun. And suddenly, the memory hit me harder than shame ever could.Ari’s POV I pushed open the door to the beach house expecting to hear Rhea call out from the kitchen or peek her head from the bedroom, but the entire place sat still in a way that didn’t feel normal. The first thing I noticed was the bed rumpled, warm, and unmistakably missing her. The sight made a heavy ache spread through my chest. She had warned me last night that she would probably leave soon, and I tried to pretend I could ignore that possibility, but seeing the empty room forced the truth into my throat with a kind of weight I couldn’t swallow. I stepped inside slowly, almost afraid of confirming what I already feared. Every part of the house held some trace of her, yet she wasn’t here. I walked toward the kitchen table, hoping she left something behind, maybe a message or a note that explained why she couldn’t wait for me to come back. At first, there was nothing except a chair slightly out of place. Then I saw it a piece of paper sitting near the edge of the table with a p
Ari By the time I reached Rhea’s beach house, the night had settled into something heavy, the kind that makes you feel every step in your chest rather than your legs. Her small place sat near the dunes, soft light leaking through the curtains. I could hear faint movement inside I stopped outside her door for a few seconds, breathing slowly, trying to gather myself. My parents’ faces were still fresh in my mind Dad’s anger, Mom’s fear, the way their voices trembled when they realized who she was. If I stood there long enough, maybe everything would make sense. It didn’t. I lifted my hand and knocked. It took her a moment to answer. I heard her footsteps, hesitant but fast, like she wasn’t sure whether to open the door at all. When she finally pulled it open, she stood there barefoot, dress wrinkled from hours of wearing it, her hair a little undone around her face. Her eyes were red not from crying, but from holding in tears she didn’t want anyone to see. “Ari,” she said qu
Ari’s POV I brought Rhea home that morning even though she wasn’t sure about coming. I could tell from the way she kept glancing over her shoulder, her eyes moving along the quiet path as if she expected someone to step out from behind a tree. I promised her it wouldn’t be awkward, that my parents would want to meet her before she left the island. After a long moment, she finally agreed. She walked beside me in a pale dress, her hair tied up loosely, sketchbook held tight against her chest. Every step she took felt careful, deliberate in a way that made me glance at her more than once. I didn’t tell her she had nothing to be nervous about, because in this house, everything had history. Mom opened the door before my hand even touched it. Her smile came quickly, warm and curious. “You must be Rhea.” Rhea nodded lightly. “Yes, ma’am.” Mom’s smile wavered. Not because she didn’t like her. It was something else. Something she sensed before she could name it. Her eyes narrowed slightl
Ari’s POV I didn’t plan to see her again that night. I walked because the house felt too tight around me after the fight with my father, every room still echoing with what we’d thrown at each other. I needed air, space, distance anything that didn’t sound like his voice in my head. The path that led toward the water gave me all of that. The shoreline shimmered in pale light, and the waves rose and fell with a rhythm that steadied my steps. I kept telling myself I only needed a few minutes to clear the noise in my chest. I didn’t expect to see her there. Rhea sat on the same overturned boat where we’d talked before, knees drawn up, sketchbook abandoned beside her like she’d forgotten she was supposed to be using it. She had her chin tucked down as if she was listening to the sea breathe. The tide kept reaching for her feet, slipping close then pulling back again. She lifted her head the moment I stopped, and the look in her eyes told me she’d felt me coming before she saw me.
Ari’s POV The first thing I noticed when I stepped inside wasn’t any quiet in the house. It was the way both my parents stared at me as if I had walked in carrying something dangerous on my skin. Father was still by the window, sleeves pushed up, his jaw clenched tight. Mom sat at the table with her fingers curled around a mug she hadn’t tasted once. Valeria was perched on the arm of the couch with a book open on her lap, but she hadn’t been turning any pages. Her eyes were fixed on me the whole time. “You’re late,” Father said without raising his voice. I shut the door behind me, feeling more eyes on me than people in the room. “Didn’t know there was a curfew,” I muttered, trying to walk past him, but the way he slowly turned his head told me that whatever he had heard, it wasn’t good. He asked if I wanted to repeat myself, and for a moment I actually considered lying, giving them some easy excuse, anything to avoid this conversation. But the moment our eyes met, everything f
Ari’s POV We stayed near the water after the men were gone. The tide had crept back, slow and heavy, dragging foam across the sand until it touched our feet. Rhea sat a few paces from me, knees pulled to her chest, sketchbook lying closed beside her. Neither of us spoke for a long time. The pier behind us had gone quiet. The fishermen had gone home. Only the sea kept talking. Her hair was still messy from the scuffle, a few strands stuck to her face. I wanted to brush them away, but I didn’t. I just sat there, watching the waves fold over each other, waiting for her to breathe normally again. Finally, she said, “You shouldn’t have done that.” I glanced at her. “I know.” “You could’ve gotten hurt.” “So could you.” “That’s different.” “No,” I said. “It’s not.” Rhea turned her head slowly. “You don’t get it, do you?” “Then make me get it.” Her eyes flicked to the horizon, pale and still. “You asked me who he was. That man at the pier.” “Yeah.” “He works for







