Chapter 3

The challenge was unmistakable. Marc would either have to admit his warriors were here for show, or commit them to a battle that might not even exist.

"My warriors remain with me," Marc said coolly. "But by all means, attend to your... emergency. We can resume our discussions afterward."

Alpha Logan nodded to Maison and Jackson. "Escort our guests to the neutral waiting area. I'll send word when the situation is contained."

As the twins moved to lead Marc and his entourage away, his ice-blue eyes found mine one last time. A chill ran down my spine at the calculation I saw there.

"Until later, Daisy," he said, my name a caress that made my skin crawl. "I look forward to getting better acquainted."

Uncle Mateo was at my side when they left the great hall, guiding me swiftly toward a hidden passage behind a tapestry.

"We don't have much time," he muttered. "He suspects. More than suspects—he knows."

"How could he possibly know?" I whispered as we hurried through the narrow corridor. "I've never even met him before today."

Uncle Mateo's expression was grim. "The pendant. Even dampened, it calls to his family's blood oath with yours. It's how they tracked your parents all those years ago."

We emerged in a small chamber I'd never seen before, deep within the pack house. Alpha Logan and Luna Mara were already there, along with several senior pack members I recognised from glimpses around the compound.

"He knows," Alpha Logan confirmed, pacing the small space. "Or at least, he's convinced enough to risk coming here with warriors."

"Then we need to move now," Uncle Mateo said. "Before he returns with reinforcements."

Luna Mara nodded. "The eastern tunnel is prepared. We can have her at the mountain sanctuary by dawn."

"No," I said, surprising myself with the firmness in my voice. All eyes turned to me. "Running is what he expects. It's what I've done my whole life, and it hasn't solved anything."

"Marabelle—" Uncle Mateo began.

"Daisy," I corrected automatically. "And I'm serious. If we run now, we're confirming his suspicions. He'll hunt me forever."

"What do you suggest?" Alpha Logan asked, his expression thoughtful.

I removed the pouch from around my neck, letting the pendant fall free. It glowed brighter than before, pulsing with an inner light that seemed to strengthen me.

"We accelerate the plan," I said, Star suddenly clear and focused within me. "The Lunar Conclave is in two weeks. That's where we make our stand."

"Marc will expect that," Luna Mara cautioned.

"Good," I replied. "Let him come prepared for a diplomatic battle. We'll be prepared for more."

Alpha Logan studied me with new respect. "You sound like your father. He never ran from a fight either."

The door opened, and Maison and Jackson entered, their expressions tense.

"Marc's accepting our hospitality for the night," Maison reported, his disgust evident. "Claims it's too late to return to his territory safely."

"He wants more time to search," Jackson added. "His warriors are already 'getting lost' trying to find the guest quarters."

I met Maison's gaze. "We're going to the Conclave. Now, not in two weeks."

His eyebrows rose. "That's... bold."

"It is, but it is the best we can do now. Considering.” I said.

“Then we’ll both go with you,” Jackson said, his words surprised me.

“I don’t know why, but every time he looked at you, my wolf got possessive,” Maison stated.

“As did mine,” Jackson said flatly.

“Come with me,” their father said.

Their father opened a small panel in the wall and pulled out a small bag containing a small dress.

The scent made Jackson and Maison’s noses flare in response.

“This is the dress you were wearing the night of the attack, Daisy,” Uncle Mateo stated.

“Mine,” Jackson and Maison said in unison.

The silence that followed was deafening. Everyone in the room froze, staring at the twins with varying degrees of shock.

"What did you just say?" Uncle Mateo whispered, his face pale.

Alpha Logan's expression had transformed from concern to something I couldn't quite read—a mixture of awe and apprehension.

"It can't be," Luna Mara breathed, looking between her sons and me. "The probability of a double mate bond is astronomically rare. Almost unheard of."

I took a step back, my mind reeling. "Double mate bond? What are you talking about?"

Maison and Jackson exchanged a glance, seeming as startled by their simultaneous declaration as everyone else.

"Our wolves," Maison explained, his voice rough. "They're both claiming you as mate."

"That's impossible," I said flatly. "Wolves only have one true mate. That's basic werewolf biology."

Uncle Mateo shook his head slowly. "Not for the Graystone line. There have been... instances in your family's history. Rare, but documented."

"Instances of what?" I demanded, feeling increasingly like I was losing control of the situation.

"Twin bonds," Alpha Logan said gravely. "When royal blood meets twin Alpha potential, the old magic sometimes... adapts."

I laughed, the sound harsh and brittle. "So, what, I'm supposed to have two mates now? As if my life wasn't complicated enough?"

"It would explain why both Nightshade and Shadowfang have been so agitated around you," Luna Mara mused. "They sensed the potential bond, but without knowing your true identity, they couldn't understand their feelings."

Maison stepped forward, his expression intense. "This changes things."

"You think?" I snapped, panic rising in my chest. Star was suddenly alert within me, not distressed but interested, evaluating. I could feel her considering both wolves with a calm detachment that contrasted sharply with my own turmoil.

"It strengthens our position," Jackson clarified, ever the strategist. "Marc Stone came expecting to find one lost princess. He'll be leaving with the knowledge that she's not only alive but mated to twin Alpha heirs of one of the strongest packs in the region."

"I'm not mated to anyone!" I protested.

"Not yet," Uncle Mateo said quietly. "But the potential is there. And in werewolf law, even a recognised potential mate bond offers protection."

My head was spinning. In the space of a day, I'd gone from anonymous fast-food worker to long-lost princess to potential mate of not one but two Alpha heirs. It was too much.

"I need to think," I said, backing toward the door. "Alone."

To my surprise, afterwards, one tried to stop me, not even Maison and Jackson, who'd just declared me their mate. The door opened to the Alpha suite's main room. I sat down in the armchair. Today, everything had changed, and the two jerks now appeared to be my mates. Could this day get any worse?

The door opened behind me, but I didn't turn around.

"I said I wanted to be alone," I muttered.

"And normally, I'd respect that," Uncle Mateo said quietly, closing the door behind him. "But we don't have the luxury of time right now."

I sighed, pressing my palms against my eyes. "How is this even possible? Twin mates? It feels like some cosmic joke."

Uncle Mateo sat in the chair opposite mine, his weathered face softening. "The Graystone line has always had... unique connections to the old magic. Your mother once told me it was the price of power—extraordinary gifts come with extraordinary complications."

"You never told me anything about my real family," I said, unable to keep the accusation from my voice. "All these years, you let me believe I was nobody special."

"To keep you safe," he replied, no apology in his tone. "And it worked. You survived when no one else did."

The weight of that truth settled over me. I was alive when my parents and brother were not. I'd been given a chance they never had.

"What were they like?" I asked softly. "My real parents."

A smile ghosted across Uncle Mateo's face. "Your father was formidable. Just, but uncompromising when it came to protecting what was his. Your mother was the diplomat—brilliant, compassionate, with a gift for seeing through deception." His eyes met mine. "You have her eyes."

"What do you mean?"

"Your mother was lucky to be claimed by only one mate. But nearly had a chosen mate in your father’s younger brother."

I straightened. "What happened?"

"She chose your father, of course. But the bond with his brother never fully dissolved. He became her most trusted advisor, her protector when your father couldn't be there." Uncle Mateo's gaze grew distant. "He died trying to save them the night of the attack."

The revelation hung between us. My mother had experienced this too—this impossible situation.

"I don't know how to handle this," I admitted. "Maison and Jackson have barely tolerated me for years, and now suddenly I'm their mate? It makes no sense."

"Their wolves knew," Uncle Mateo said simply. "Even if they didn't understand what they were sensing. It explains their hostility—they were fighting the bond, confused by the threat and attraction your presence created."

A knock at the door interrupted us. Luna Mara entered without waiting for a response, her expression grave.

"Marc is demanding a formal dinner tonight," she announced. "A gesture of 'pack unity' after the border incident."

"He wants another chance to search for me," I translated.

She nodded. "And to observe our pack interactions. He's suspicious of how quickly the 'emergency' was resolved."

"Then let's give him something else to focus on,” I said.

However, I didn’t notice Jackson and Maison entering the room until they were both at my side.

The sudden proximity of both Alphas made my skin tingle with awareness. Star stirred restlessly, responding to their presence in a way I'd never experienced before.

"What are you thinking?" Maison asked, his voice low.

I straightened my shoulders, an idea forming. "Marc wants to see the pack dynamics. Let's show him something unexpected. Something that will distract him from his search."

"Like what?" Jackson asked, his eyes intent on mine.

"Like the Alpha heirs publicly claiming interest in a kitchen servant," I said. The words came out before I could fully think them through, but they made perfect sense once spoken. "It would be scandalous enough to draw attention, but not so unusual that it would immediately connect to Graystone rumours."

Luna Mara's eyebrows rose. "Bold. But risky."

"You want us to court you openly? Tonight?" Maison clarified, his expression unreadable.

"Not court me," I corrected. "Just show enough interest to become the topic of dinner conversation instead of mysterious princess rumours."

Uncle Mateo stroked his chin thoughtfully. "It could work. Marc would be watching for us, hiding you away, not flaunting you before his eyes."

"And it would explain why both Maison and Jackson reacted strongly to Marc's attention toward you," Luna Mara added. "If they were already interested in you as a potential mate."

"Interested in the same woman," Jackson mused, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "It wouldn't be the first time we've competed for something."

Maison shot his brother a look that could have frozen fire. "This isn't a competition."

"Of course not," Jackson replied smoothly. "Just playing my part convincingly."

The tension between them was palpable. I wondered if this was a glimpse of what might come if this mate bond was real—if I'd spend eternity between two powerful wolves who couldn't decide if they were rivals or allies.

"It's settled then," Luna Mara declared, apparently immune to the charged atmosphere. "Daisy will attend dinner as herself—a kitchen worker who has caught the eye of both my sons. Marc will be so intrigued by the potential pack drama, he won't look deeper."

"I'll need different clothes," I said, glancing down at my shapeless uniform. "Something that suggests I'm special enough to attract Alpha heirs, but not royal."

Luna Mara nodded. "I have just the thing. And we'll need to remove the scent dampener—if you're to be the object of my sons' attention, you should smell like yourself."

"Not entirely like herself," Uncle Mateo cautioned. "The Graystone markers in her scent are distinctive."

"We'll balance it," Luna Mara assured him. "Enough of her natural scent to be attractive, with enough herbal masking to blur the royal markers."

Two hours later, I hardly recognised myself in the mirror. Luna Mara had dressed me in a simple but elegant deep blue dress that hugged my figure without being inappropriately revealing. My hair was pulled back in a softer style than my usual severe bun, with a few artfully arranged tendrils framing my face. The effect was striking without being obviously royal—a servant girl with unexpected beauty that might indeed catch an Alpha heir's eye.

"Perfect," Luna Mara declared, adjusting the final touches. "Beautiful enough to turn heads, but not so transformed that Marc will suspect deception."

"What about this?" I asked, touching the pouch containing my pendant.

"Keep it with you, but concealed," she advised. "The moonstone pouch will dampen its glow, but don't remove it from the pouch during dinner."

A knock at the door announced Maison's arrival. He stepped into the room and froze, his eyes widening slightly as they took me in.

"Well?" Luna Mara prompted when her son remained silent.

Maison cleared his throat. "It will work," he said, his voice oddly strained. "Marc won't be able to look away."

Something in his tone made warmth bloom in my chest. Star preened under his attention, surprising me with her reaction.

"Is Jackson ready?" Luna Mara asked.

"Waiting in the hall," Maison confirmed, not taking his eyes off me. "We should go. Marc is already in the dining hall, questioning the staff about our 'emergency.'"

Luna Mara nodded and swept from the room, leaving us momentarily alone. The air between us seemed to thicken.

"You look..." Maison began, then shook his head. "This plan is dangerous."

"Less dangerous than running," I countered. "Or hiding and being found."

"If Marc sees through it—"

"He won't," I said with more confidence than I felt. "Men like Marc see what they expect to see. He expects me to be hidden away, not paraded before him."

Maison's jaw tightened. "I don't like the way he looked at you earlier. Like you were prey."

"I'm not prey," I said softly. "I never was."

Something flickered in his eyes—respect, perhaps, or recognition. "No," he agreed. "You weren't."

He offered his arm with formal precision. "Shall we give Marc Stone something to think about besides missing princesses?"

I placed my hand on his arm, feeling the solid muscle beneath the fabric of his suit. "Let's."

In the corridor, Jackson waited, his expression changing subtly when he saw me. Unlike his brother's barely contained tension, Jackson's appreciation was more openly displayed in the slight curve of his lips.

"Our plan might work too well," he murmured, his eyes travelling over my transformed appearance. "Half the pack will be jealous by dessert."

"That's the idea," I replied, “and then again, so will the girls in your fan club.”

“To be honest, I never really noticed any of them, probably why I would watch you as well,” Maison said frankly.

I couldn't help but smile at the admission. The twins had spent years avoiding me, glaring from across rooms, and now they were claiming they'd been watching me all along?

"Focus," I reminded them, and myself. "This is an act, not a confession."

Jackson offered his arm as well, and for a moment, I hesitated, unsure how to proceed. Luna Mara had returned, solving my dilemma with a practised smile.

"Maison will escort you in," she instructed. "Jackson will approach during the first course, as if unable to stay away. The progression will seem more natural."

I nodded, grateful for her guidance in this unfamiliar pack politics and deception territory.

As we approached the grand dining hall, I could hear the murmur of voices and the clink of silverware. My heart pounded against my ribs. Star, usually so cautious, seemed almost eager for the confrontation ahead.

"Ready?" Maison asked quietly.

I took a deep breath. "As I'll ever be."

The massive doors swung open, and every head turned our way. The sudden silence was deafening. Maison, the Alpha heir, escorted a kitchen servant to a formal dinner. The scandal was written on every face.

Marc Stone sat at the high table beside Alpha Logan, his pale eyes instantly finding mine. His expression shifted from polite boredom to sharp interest, and I felt Maison's arm tense beneath my hand.

"Chin up," he murmured. "You belong here."

We walked through the parted crowd, whispers following in our wake. I caught fragments as we passed:

"—kitchen girl—"

"—Maison never shows interest—"

"—Alpha Logan allowing this? —"

I kept my expression neutral, neither proud nor apologetic. I was a woman caught between stations—exactly the impression we wanted to create.

Alpha Logan rose as we approached, his face revealing nothing. "Maison. I see you've brought a guest."

"Father," Maison acknowledged with a slight bow. "I hope you don't mind. Daisy was instrumental in helping with today's... situation. I thought she deserved recognition."

Marc's eyes narrowed fractionally. "The server from earlier. How... interesting."

I curtseyed, keeping my eyes appropriately lowered for my supposed station. "Alpha Stone. Alpha Logan. I'm honoured by the invitation."

"Are you?" Marc asked, his voice silky. "It seems rather outside your usual duties."

Before I could respond, Maison's hand moved to the small of my back in an unmistakably possessive gesture. "Daisy has many talents beyond the kitchen, Alpha Stone. Our pack values merit wherever we find it."

The implication hung in the air, bold and unmistakable. Maison, heir to one of the region's most powerful packs, publicly declared interest in me.

Alpha Logan gestured to an empty seat at the high table—not directly beside him as would befit an Alpha's son with his chosen mate, but close enough to signal approval. The message was subtle but clear: this was unusual but not forbidden.

I sat with as much grace as I could muster, feeling the weight of every stare in the room. Maison sat beside me, angling his body slightly toward mine in a protective gesture that didn't go unnoticed.

"I wasn't aware your pack was so... progressive, Alpha Logan," Marc commented, swirling wine in his goblet. "In my territory, kitchen staff rarely dine with Alphas."

"We have our traditions," Alpha Logan replied evenly, "and our exceptions."

The first course arrived—a delicate soup that I would normally have helped serve. The irony wasn't lost on me as I carefully selected the correct spoon from the bewildering array of silverware before me.

Halfway through the soup, Jackson entered the dining hall. Conversations hushed as he made his way directly to the high table, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that wasn't entirely feigned.

"Brother," Maison acknowledged, his voice carrying a warning edge that rippled through the room. "You're late."

"I was detained," Jackson replied, not taking his eyes off me. "Alpha Logan, forgive my tardiness."

Alpha Logan inclined his head, his expression carefully neutral. "Take your seat, Jackson."

The only empty chair at the high table was on my other side. Jackson claimed it with deliberate slowness, the placement creating a tableau that sent fresh whispers racing through the hall. The Alpha's twin heirs flanked a kitchen servant like bookends.

"Daisy," Jackson greeted, his voice warm enough to raise eyebrows. "You look beautiful tonight."

I felt heat rise to my cheeks, not entirely an act. "Thank you, Alpha Jackson."

Marc watched the interaction with undisguised fascination. "How long has this... arrangement been going on?"

"Arrangement?" I asked, allowing a hint of confusion to colour my tone.

"My sons have always had similar tastes," Luna Mara interjected smoothly. "Though they usually manage to avoid the same target."

I ducked my head as if embarrassed, while inwardly marvelling at Luna Mara's performance. She'd managed to suggest a romantic triangle without confirming anything.

"How do you feel about being caught between two Alpha heirs?" Marc asked me directly, his pale eyes calculating. "It must be... overwhelming for someone of your station."

Jackson's hand found mine under the table, a steadying pressure against my sudden tension.

"I'm not caught between anything, Alpha Stone," I replied, injecting just the right note of deference into my voice. "I'm honoured by their attention, but I make my own choices."

Marc's eyebrows rose, and I immediately worried I'd spoken too boldly for my supposed position.

"Spirited," Marc said, appreciation gleaming in his eyes. "I can see why they're interested."

The tension at the table shifted, becoming something more dangerous. Both Maison and Jackson straightened almost imperceptibly, their wolves responding to the predatory note in Marc's voice.

"The Northern Territories also value spirit," Marc continued, watching me closely. "In my experience, the most delicate flowers often hide the sharpest thorns."

"Daisy isn't a flower, Alpha Stone," Maison said, his voice deceptively casual. "She's a wolf."

The statement hung in the air, loaded with meaning. I sipped my water to hide my reaction, while beneath the table, Jackson's fingers tightened around mine.

"Indeed," Marc said softly. "And what pack did you say you came from originally, Daisy?"

"I didn't," I replied, meeting his gaze with carefully measured confidence. "My parents were travellers. They died when I was young. Alpha Logan's pack took me in out of kindness."

"How fortunate for you," Marc murmured. "And now you've caught the eye of not one, but two Alpha heirs. Some might call that... suspiciously good luck."

"Others might call it fate," Luna Mara interjected smoothly. "The moon guides us to where we belong, doesn't it, Alpha Stone?"

Marc inclined his head, conceding the point but clearly not convinced. "Indeed, Luna Mara. Fate has a way of... revealing hidden truths."

The second course arrived, momentarily distracting from the tension. Despite my nerves, I focused on my plate, trying to eat with proper etiquette. The weight of Marc's scrutiny felt like a physical pressure.

"Tell me, Daisy," Marc said when the conversation around us resumed. Have you ever travelled to the Northern Territories?"

I shook my head. "No, Alpha Stone. I've never left this region."

"You should visit sometime," he suggested, his tone making it clear this wasn't a casual invitation. "The mountains there are... breathtaking. Something about them calls to the wolf blood, especially certain bloodlines."

I felt Maison stiffen beside me. We were treading dangerous ground now.

"Perhaps someday," I replied noncommittally. "Though I find I'm quite content here."

"With two potential mates?" Marc pressed, his smile not reaching his eyes. "That seems an unusually complicated situation, even for a wolf with spirit."

Before I could respond, a commotion at the entrance to the dining hall drew everyone's attention. Uncle Mateo stood in the doorway, his expression urgent.

"Alpha Logan," he called, his voice carrying across the suddenly quiet room. "Forgive the interruption, but we've received word from the Northern border patrol. The rogue wolves have returned in greater numbers."

Alpha Logan rose, his expression grave. "How many?"

"At least thirty," Uncle Mateo replied, his gaze flicking briefly to me. "And they're carrying Silver Stone colours."

The dining hall erupted in murmurs. Marc rose slowly, his expression a careful mask of concern.

"How unfortunate, Alpha Logan. It seems my presence has not deterred these rogues as I'd hoped." His pale eyes swept over me. "Perhaps they're searching for something... valuable."

Maison stood, his shoulders squared. "Or someone sent them as a distraction."

Marc's smile was razor-sharp. "Are you accusing me of something, young Alpha?"

"Not at all," Maison replied with matching coldness. "Merely noting the convenient timing."

Alpha Logan raised a hand, silencing the tension. "Marc, as my guest, you're welcome to remain here while we handle this threat. Or if you prefer, my warriors can escort you safely back to your territory."

It was a masterful move—either Marc stayed put where he could be watched, or he left under guard without completing his search.

"I would never abandon allies in their time of need," Marc said smoothly. "My warriors and I will assist in defending your borders."

Another trap neatly sidestepped. If Marc's warriors joined the defence, they would be paired with Logan's pack members, supervised and separated.

"Generous of you," Alpha Logan acknowledged. "Maison, Jackson—prepare our defence units."

"And what of your... special guest?" Marc asked, his gaze lingering on me. "Perhaps she should be moved somewhere safer?"

My heart stuttered. He was trying to track my movements, to see where I might be hidden.

"I can help in the kitchens," I offered quickly. "Preparing supplies for the warriors."

Luna Mara nodded approval. "An excellent suggestion. Daisy knows our storage systems well."

"I'll escort her," Jackson said immediately.

Marc's eyes narrowed fractionally. "Both heirs to guard one kitchen worker? Seems excessive when your borders are under attack."

"I'll take her," Maison countered. "Jackson has more experience with the northern defences."

The brothers exchanged a look loaded with unspoken communication.

"Actually," I interjected, surprising myself with my boldness, "I know the way to the kitchens perfectly well. I work there, remember?" I turned to Alpha Logan. "With your permission, Alpha, I'll go prepare provisions while your sons handle more important matters."

Alpha Logan studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Sensible. Go."

I rose, curtsied to the table, and walked away with measured steps. I could feel Marc's eyes burning into my back, assessing, calculating. As I reached the doors, I risked a glance back. Marc watched me with such intensity that a shiver ran down my spine.

Once in the corridor, I quickened my pace. The pendant felt heavy against my skin, even though it was in the dampening pouch. I made my way to the kitchen. Jackson and Maison’s Alpha unit felt in step with them. I had no doubt they would have questions. Some of them had disgust showing on their faces.

Maison took my arm as I walked through the kitchen door to pack the surprise. Jackson stood beside him. Maison whispered into my ear, “Please be careful, our Luna.” The words he just said sent a pleasurable shiver down my spine. The sparks of our mate bond had grown stronger over dinner; they were unusual but warm.

However, I saw something that neither of them did; their Beta, Delta and Gamma just looked back at me with the same disgust they always had.

I did my best not to show them I show, “I’ll do my best, even if that means using one of the safe wall passages back up to the Alpha Suite.” I replied in a whisper.

Jackson nodded, his eyes scanning the faces of his Alpha unit with a thoughtful frown. "We'll be back for you as soon as possible. If anything feels wrong—anything at all—use the passages."

As they turned to leave, I caught the arm of one of the kitchen staff I recognised—a young wolf named Ellie who had always been kind to me.

"We need to prepare provisions for at least thirty warriors," I said, slipping effortlessly into the role I'd played for years. "Can you gather the preserved meats from the cold storage?"

Ellie nodded, though her eyes kept darting between me and the retreating forms of the Alpha heirs. "Everyone's talking about you," she whispered. "Is it true? Are both of them courting you?"

I managed a small smile. "It's... complicated."

"I bet," she said with a sympathetic grimace. "Lana's going to lose her mind. She's been throwing herself at Jackson for months."

I remembered Lana, tall and statuesque, from one of the more prominent families in the pack—the kind of wolf who seemed born to stand beside an Alpha.

"I never asked for any of this," I said truthfully.

Ellie squeezed my arm. "That's probably why they noticed you. Come on, let's get these provisions together."

The kitchen quickly became a flurry of activity as we assembled packs of food and medical supplies. I tried to focus on the tasks at hand, but my mind kept returning to Marc's calculating gaze, to the unexpected declaration from Maison and Jackson, to the weight of a heritage I'd never known was mine.

I was placing wrapped sandwiches into a large basket when I felt a slight shift in the air, a prickle at the back of my neck. Someone was watching me.

Turning slowly, I scanned the kitchen. The staff moved efficiently around me, focused on their tasks. Nothing seemed out of place, and yet...

My gaze landed on a figure standing just inside the doorway—one of Marc's warriors, his posture deceptively casual as he leaned against the wall.

"Can I help you?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.

"Alpha Stone sent me to assist with provisions," he replied, his accent marking him as Northern. "He thought you might need... extra hands."

A spy, then. Sent to watch me, to confirm Marc's suspicions.

I nodded as if this were perfectly normal. "We can always use help. Would you mind carrying these baskets to the main hall?"

He moved forward, his eyes never leaving my face. "You seem very comfortable giving orders to a kitchen worker."

"I've been here a long time," I replied, loading his arms with baskets before he could object. "The warriors will need these immediately."

As he took the baskets, his sleeve rode up slightly, revealing a tattoo I recognised from Uncle Mateo's lessons—the mark of the Silver Stone elite, Marc wasn’t hiding who he had sent with to ‘help’.

Jackson and Maison’s Alpha unit continued to head to where they needed to go, but their Beta Dean first expressed his displeasure.

"I don't know why both of them have suddenly taken an interest in her," Dean grumbled, glancing back toward the kitchen. "She's nobody. Just some orphan the Alpha took pity on."

"Not according to Nightshade and Shadowfang," Maison replied coldly, his voice carrying just enough Alpha authority to make Dean flinch. "Our wolves have chosen."

"Both of them?" Gamma wolf Tristan asked, his tone incredulous rather than hostile. "That's—"

"Unprecedented," Jackson finished for him. "But not impossible."

Delta wolf Carter kept his expression neutral, though his eyes betrayed his concern. "The timing is... unfortunate. With Marc Stone already suspicious and rogues at our borders—"

"It's not a coincidence," Maison cut in, lowering his voice as they approached the armoury. "None of this is."

In the kitchen, I struggled to maintain my composure as Marc's warrior continued to watch my every move. His presence made the other kitchen staff nervous; they darted glances his way, clearly uncomfortable with an outsider in their domain.

"So," he said casually, setting down the empty baskets after returning from his delivery, "how long have you been with this pack?"

"Since I was a child," I replied, deliberately vague as I wrapped more sandwiches.

"And your parents? They were from this territory?"

I tensed slightly, recognising the probing for what it was. "They died when I was young. I don't remember much about them."

He nodded, moving closer under the pretence of helping. "Tragic. You have unusual eyes. Very... distinctive."

My heart skipped a beat, but I forced myself to continue working. "Thank you. I'm told I got them from my mother."

"Your mother," he repeated thoughtfully. "From the eastern territories, wasn't it? Interesting. The Northern Territories had a royal line once with similar eyes. Before they were wiped out, of course."