Chapter 3 - The Kind Stranger

Beatrice POV 

The next morning came too soon and not soon enough. I'd barely slept, my chest aching like someone had carved out my heart with a dull knife. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Eamon's disgusted face, heard his words echoing in my head.

The moon goddess made a mistake.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I was the mistake.

"Get up." Cook's voice was gentler than usual, but still firm. "We have the inter-pack gathering today. Three packs are visiting, and they'll expect proper service."

I dragged myself from bed, every movement feeling like I was walking through mud. My face was puffy from crying, my eyes red-rimmed. I looked exactly like what I was—a broken, rejected wolf with nowhere to go.

The visiting packs had arrived early that morning. Ashthorn, Moonhaven, and Ironwood delegations filled the great hall with conversation and laughter. I recognized the Ashthorn wolves immediately—the auburn-haired man from last night stood with their group, talking quietly to an older woman who must be their Luna.

"Beatrice." Alpha Riven's voice stopped me as I carried a tray of drinks toward the tables. "A word."

He led me to a quiet corner, his expression unreadable. Up close, I could see where Eamon got his looks—the same strong jaw, the same cold blue eyes.

"What happened last night," he began slowly, "was unfortunate."

Unfortunate. Like it was bad weather, not the destruction of my entire world.

"Yes, Alpha," I said, keeping my voice steady.

"Eamon made the right choice for the pack," he continued. "You understand that, don't you? An alpha heir can't mate with a servant, regardless of what the moon goddess intended."

Each word was another nail in my coffin. "I understand."

"Good. Then we won't speak of it again." He straightened his shoulders. "Continue your duties. Our guests expect excellent service."

I nodded and walked away, my legs shaking. The message was clear—pretend it never happened. Go back to being invisible. Accept my place at the bottom of the pack hierarchy.

The great hall buzzed with conversation as I served drinks and cleared plates. Most of the visiting wolves ignored me completely, which was a blessing. The last thing I needed was questions about last night's ceremony.

I was refilling water glasses when a gentle voice said, "Excuse me."

I looked up to find the auburn-haired man standing beside me. Up close, his eyes were the most beautiful green I'd ever seen, like sunlight through forest leaves. He was tall but not imposing, with broad shoulders and calloused hands that suggested he worked with them.

"Yes?" I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I was wondering if you could tell me where to find the washroom," he said, though something in his tone suggested that wasn't really what he wanted to ask.

I pointed toward the hallway. "Down that corridor, second door on the left."

"Thank you." He paused, then added quietly, "I'm Darius, by the way. Darius Veylor."

The name meant nothing to me, but I nodded anyway. "Beatrice."

"I know." His voice was so gentle it made my throat tight. "I wanted to say... I'm sorry about last night."

My cheeks burned with shame. Of course he'd witnessed my humiliation. Everyone had. "Please don't," I whispered.

"What happened wasn't right," he said, and there was anger in his voice now. Not at me, but for me. "You deserve better."

I stared at him in shock. No one had ever said anything like that to me before. No one had ever suggested I deserved anything at all.

"I should get back to work," I said, because I didn't know how to respond to kindness.

He nodded, but his eyes lingered on my face like he was memorizing it. "Of course. Thank you for the directions."

I watched him walk away, something fluttering in my chest that had nothing to do with mate bonds or rejection. It was such a small thing—a moment of kindness from a stranger—but it felt like sunlight after weeks of rain.

He smells so good, Luna said weakly. She'd been quiet since last night, retreating deep inside my mind to lick her wounds. And something else. Something that makes me restless.

I didn't have time to think about what that meant. The afternoon stretched on with endless tasks serving food, cleaning tables, listening to conversations I wasn't part of. The visiting packs discussed politics and trade agreements while I refilled their cups and pretended to be invisible.

Eamon appeared around midday, looking perfectly composed. He laughed with the other young alphas, flirted with unmated females from the visiting packs, and acted like nothing had changed. Like he hadn't destroyed my entire world less than twenty-four hours ago.

"He's already moved on," Selene said, appearing at my elbow with a cruel smile. "Look how happy he seems. I bet he's relieved he doesn't have to pretend to want you anymore."

I kept my eyes down and continued clearing plates. Anything I said would only make it worse.

"The Moonhaven alpha has a daughter," she continued conversationally. "Beautiful, well-trained, perfect breeding. I heard Eamon's parents are already discussing a match."

The words hit their target perfectly. I fumbled a glass, nearly dropping it on the floor.

"Careful, Bea," Selene said sweetly. "We wouldn't want you to embarrass the pack in front of our guests."

She walked away, leaving me standing there with my heart in pieces all over again. Of course Eamon would find someone better. Someone worthy of an alpha heir. Someone who wasn't me.

I was carrying a tray of empty dishes toward the kitchen when it happened. The scent hit me like a wall as my step faltered, and I looked up to see Darius watching me from across the room.

Our eyes met, and something electric passed between us. Not the mate bond—that was impossible so soon after a rejection. But something else, something that made Luna pace restlessly in my mind.

There, she said urgently. That one. He's important.

Before I could process what she meant, Selene's voice cut through the air. "Beatrice! Stop staring at our guests and get back to work!"

Heat flooded my cheeks as every head in the room turned toward me. Darius's expression darkened, and I saw his hands clench into fists at his sides.

I ducked my head and hurried toward the kitchen, my face burning with humiliation. But I could feel his eyes following me, and for reasons I couldn't explain, that mattered more than all of Selene's cruelty.

Maybe I was still broken. Maybe I'd never be worthy of love or kindness.

But for one moment, a stranger had looked at me like I was worth something.

And somehow, that was enough to keep me breathing.