Chapter 5: Playing the Game

Athena sat quietly in her small quarters, her fingers tracing the cracks in the stone wall. Every word the jealous concubine had whispered earlier replayed in her head. Stay away from Raphael… know your limits.

She smirked. “Limits are only for those who accept them,” she muttered to herself.

For the first time since she had been dragged into this palace, Athena no longer felt powerless. She had stumbled upon something far more dangerous than Raphael’s wrath—his interest. And if he was foolish enough to let his emotions cloud his judgment, then she would use that weakness against him.

But she knew it had to be done carefully. Raphael was not the kind of man to fall for easy tricks. He thrived on control, on dominance, on watching others bend beneath his will. If she wanted to fool him, she would have to play the perfect opposite of who she truly was.

Instead of defiance, she would show submission. Instead of fire, she would show warmth. And when he finally believed she had surrendered to him… that was when she would find her opening to escape.

---

The following day, Raphael summoned her to the great hall. His voice, deep and commanding, echoed against the marble pillars. “Athena.”

She walked in, her steps deliberately slower, her eyes lowered. For once, she didn’t stare him down. She didn’t smirk or challenge him. She bowed.

Raphael arched a brow, suspicion flashing in his eyes. “You seem… different.”

Athena clasped her hands together, making her voice soft. “I only wish to serve you better, my Alpha. I was foolish before. I didn’t understand my place.”

For a long moment, silence hung between them. Raphael studied her as though trying to tear through her act. His wolf stirred restlessly inside him, urging him closer, urging him to trust her. But Raphael had lived too long in betrayal to be naïve. Still, her lowered eyes, her softened tone… it soothed something in him he never thought could be soothed.

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, the scent of his power surrounding her. “You think a few sweet words will erase your stubbornness?” His voice was cold, yet less sharp than before.

“No,” Athena replied, keeping her voice steady. “But I want to learn. If you will teach me… I will not resist.”

Raphael’s jaw tightened. He didn’t know why those words stirred a dangerous warmth inside him. For so long, he had punished her for her rebellion. Now, with her standing before him in feigned humility, he felt the strange urge to reach out—not to punish, but to hold.

He shook the thought away. “We shall see. Actions speak louder than words, Athena.”

Athena lowered her head again, hiding the gleam in her eyes. Good, she thought. Take the bait.

---

That evening, Raphael ordered her to serve him in the dining hall before his guards and concubines. Normally, she would have dragged her feet, glared at him, or muttered under her breath. But tonight, she poured his wine with careful grace, placing the goblet before him with both hands.

The hall went silent. Even the concubines, who usually sneered at her, exchanged wary glances. Never had they seen Athena so docile.

Raphael took the goblet, his gaze lingering on her longer than it should have. “Better,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Athena curtsied, a small smile tugging at her lips. Yes, she thought. Better for me.

Because if her act was convincing enough, soon Raphael would drop his guard. And when he did… she would finally have her chance at freedom.