Chapter 4

The werewolves whispered among themselves, their voices like dry leaves rustling in a storm. Some looked shocked. Others looked thrilled. Chloe? She looked like she’d swallowed a lemon.

“How dare you be so disrespectful,” Chloe hissed, stepping forward as if she might slap me herself.

I didn’t even blink.

Several guards stepped forward, flanking me. One of them nudged me roughly to start walking. I didn’t fight it—what would be the point? The path had already been chosen the moment I refused to bow.

As they led me through the center of the pack grounds toward the alpha house, the full weight of what had just happened settled over me. Not the fear—no, I’d already faced that. But the bitter taste of defeat. I wasn’t dead, but I hadn’t won either.

From today on, I was no longer a fighter, no longer a defiant outsider standing on my own terms. From today on, I became a servant. And with every step closer to the alpha house, my dream of leaving the pack behind, of starting over in the human world, seemed to drift farther and farther out of reach—like smoke in the wind.

They led me to a room tucked in the far corner of the servant wing—small, windowless, and dimly lit by a single, flickering bulb. The walls were yellowed with age, the air stale with dust and disuse. No polished marble here—just cracked tiles and creaking wood. It was a cage all the same. From this day forward, I was a servant and the dream of escaping to the human world slipped further out of reach.

I had no intention of bowing my head and falling in line. They could shove me into a servant’s room and pretend I didn’t matter, but submission? That wasn’t in my blood. A little defiance wouldn’t get me killed. They wouldn’t risk it. Killing me would mean admitting failure. It would prove that two full-blooded Alphas couldn’t even break a half-wolf.

The moment the door clicked shut behind me, the silence felt suffocating. I paced the small room once, twice. Then I opened the door and stepped back out.

They hadn’t given me any rules. No commands, no chores—yet. Technically, I wasn’t disobeying anything. I just needed air. Space to think. My thoughts were a tangled mess, and staying still wasn’t going to help. I needed to move and see more of what I was up against.

I wandered, letting my fingers skim the rough stone walls as I followed the dim corridor deeper into the Alpha House. It was quieter than I expected—eerily so. My footsteps echoed softly as I passed closed doors and shadowed corners.

A sudden sound froze me in my tracks. From just around the corner, a soft but unmistakable rhythm—the heavy thump of flesh against flesh, punctuated by sharp gasps and low growls—reached my ears.

I glanced around quickly, then toward a door slightly ajar, behind which the sounds came. My pulse quickened, not out of fear but irritation. Of course one of the alphas would be indulging himself while I was being reduced to a servant. It was exactly the kind of arrogant display I’d come to expect.

Without a second thought, I pushed the door open wide and stepped inside.

Kieran’s desk dominated the center of the room. Deep claw marks raked across one corner, evidence of past rage or passion, maybe both. It was more than furniture, it was a statement. Power, control, danger. And now, thanks to Zara, the scene of a thoroughly interrupted conquest.

The scene before me exploded into chaos. The woman—a curvy blonde with smeared lipstick and a dazed, breathless look—let out a startled scream as she tumbled off the massive mahogany desk scrambling to cover herself with a fur blanket as she tripped over her own feet. Her wide eyes locked onto me with pure panic.

Kieran turned sharply toward me. His expression shifted instantly, the easy smirk wiped away and replaced with a cold, furious glare. His eyes were dark pools of ice, mirroring exactly the same ruthless chill I’d seen in Lucian, his brother.

Clearly, I’d ruined his mood.

“Get out,” Kieran growled at the woman, his voice low and dangerous.

She didn’t hesitate. She scrambled past, clutching her clothes as she fled the room. My stomach dropped the moment the door clicked shut behind me.

Kieran wasn’t smiling anymore. The casual, cocky gleam that usually lit up his face had vanished, replaced by something colder, sharper. His expression reminded me of Lucian’s—detached and dangerous, as if he were already deciding how best to make me regret this.

“I… I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said quickly, the false confidence draining from my voice. My eyes flicked from his face to the trail of clothing on the floor, to the polished mahogany desk still warm with someone else’s body heat. I took a cautious step backward, my shoulders inching toward the door.

Kieran moved. Not fast. Not aggressive. Just… deliberate. And that somehow made it worse.

He stepped closer, muscles flexing as he reached out and braced one hand against the doorframe—right beside my head. His body was right in front of me. Bare. Powerful. And every inch of him radiated heat like a furnace about to burst. I swallowed hard. My brain told me to step away, to press back into the heavy wood door until it opened and I could bolt—but my body didn’t move. Couldn’t. I was frozen, caught in the sheer force of his presence.

The scent of him hit me all at once—spice, sex, and something primal. It slid through my nose and curled down into my chest, coiling in the pit of my stomach like smoke. I hated that my body reacted at all. Hated the heat that bloomed between my thighs. Hated him for knowing it.

“Very naughty, huh?” he murmured, voice low and full of dangerous amusement. His lips curled into a smile, but it wasn’t friendly—it was the kind of smile a wolf gives just before it pounces. His canines flashed, sharper than I remembered. “You’ll have to pay a little price for that.”

I forced my chin up, even as my breath caught. He was toying with me. Testing me. But I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing me squirm.

“I accept exile,” I said, layering my words with mock sweetness and just enough venom to bite. “Respectful Alpha Lucian.”

His smile died on his lips.

I knew exactly what I was doing. Twins usually hated being mistaken for one another—especially Alphas with egos as inflated as theirs. And Kieran? Kieran had always wanted to be the opposite of Lucian. Untamed. Impulsive. Wild.

Which is exactly why I called him the wrong name.

His eyes darkened, burning gold, and for a second, I swore I saw a flicker of something barely restrained behind them. His voice dropped into a growl. “You called your Alpha the wrong name,” he said, stepping even closer. “You’ll be punished for that. But not with exile.”

Heat slid over my skin like oil—thick and hot and laced with something that made me shiver.

But then I felt it. A sudden drop in temperature behind me. The door creaked open. I didn’t need to turn around. I felt him. Lucian. His presence cut through the charged air like a blade, quiet and icy. His breath ghosted across the back of my neck, and my body went rigid. Every nerve lit up, awareness crawling down my spine like a warning.

I was trapped.

Kieran in front of me. Lucian behind me. The door blocked. No more exits. No more games.

Lucian turned to me, his voice flat and cold: “Stay tonight, and you’ll know your punishment.”