Dionne
Two weeks.
It had been two weeks of waking up to sunlight streaming through the small window above my bed. Two weeks of Nora's laughter echoing in the common room as she played with other children. Two weeks of falling asleep with a full stomach and without the constant fear.
Two weeks of peace. And it terrified me.
I couldn't remember the last time life had been this calm. Even before everything fell apart at BloodMoon, there had always been something. Matron Shaw's cruelty, the other servants' mockery, the abuse and the constant threat of being cast out. But here, in the Lycan Kingdom of all places, I had found something resembling stability.
Chef Marcus was demanding, his standards impossibly high and his temper quick to flare when someone made a mistake. But he was also fair. He never raised his hand. When I worked efficiently and followed his instructions, he showed his approval. Yesterday, he had even slipped me a small piece of honey cake wrapped in cloth, telling me gruffly that children needed sweets.
Nora had devoured it with such joy that I had nearly cried watching her.
The kitchen had become my refuge. The heat from the ovens, the rhythmic chopping of vegetables, the organized chaos of meal preparation, it all felt safe in a way I had not expected. I kept my head down, worked hard, and tried not to think about how temporary this all was.
But this morning, everything changed.
I arrived at the kitchen before dawn as usual, tying my hair back and rolling up my sleeves to begin prep work. The other kitchen staff filtered in gradually, and I noticed immediately that something was different. The air buzzed with nervous energy, whispered conversations floated around, stopping abruptly whenever Chef Marcus came near.
"What's going on?" I asked Mira, one of the older cooks who had been kind to me over the past two weeks.
She glanced toward Chef Marcus to make sure he was occupied before leaning closer. "The Alphas arrived last night. The ones who'll be taking the rescued girls away."
My hands stilled over the onions I had been peeling. "They're here? Now?"
"There's at least six of them, from what I heard. Big meeting in the War chambers today to finalize everything." Mira's expression softened with sympathy. "I'm sorry, dear. I know you've been settling in nicely."
I nodded, swallowing. My mind was racing. I didn't want to leave.
Despite everything I knew about this place, despite my first encounter with the King and all the horror stories I had heard concerning him in my short stay here, I didn't want to go. Because here, Nora was safe. Here, she laughed and played and ate honey cake. Here, no one bullied her or called her a bastard.
Here, for the first time in her short life, she was just a child.
"Dionne!" Chef Marcus's sharp voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "Stop daydreaming and finish those vegetables. We have twice the usual number for lunch today, which means twice the work."
I nodded quickly, forcing my hands to move again even though they trembled. The morning passed in a blur of chopping, stirring, and arranging plates. The kitchen grew increasingly frantic as the lunch hour approached, everyone moving with barely controlled chaos.
"Dionne!" Chef Marcus called out again, wiping sweat from his brow. "I need you to run up to the library and fetch the girls who're cleaning there. We need extra hands for service. Tell them to come down immediately."
"Yes, Chef." I wiped my hands on my apron and hurried out of the kitchen, grateful for the excuse to escape the suffocating heat and my own thoughts.
The castle was busier than I had ever seen it. Servants rushed through corridors carrying linens and trays, their faces tight with stress. As I climbed the stairs toward the library, I caught glimpses through the windows of the front courtyard.
Cars. So many cars.
Sleek black vehicles lined the circular drive, their polished surfaces gleaming in the afternoon sun. Guards stood at attention near each one. The Alphas. They were really here.
My stomach twisted into knots.
The library was on the third floor, according to the directions Mira had given me. I moved quickly through the corridors, trying to ignore the nervous flutter in my chest. But as I approached the library entrance, I heard voices.
Deep voices, carrying through a door that had been left slightly ajar.
The War Chamber.
I should have kept walking. Should have collected the girls and returned to the kitchen immediately. But I heard something that made me freeze mid-step.
"…finalize placement arrangements for the women rescued from the auction house,"
That voice stopped me cold. Deep, commanding, with an edge that made something in my chest constrict painfully. I had not heard it in over two weeks, had not seen him since that night in the courtyard when he had stood before me covered in blood and threatened my daughter's life.
My feet stopped moving. My hand, which had been reaching for the library door handle, fell back to my side.
"I want this resolved today and as quickly as possible, as I understand we need to return to our businesses. Silas, give us the summary."
I knew I should not be listening. Knew that eavesdropping on a council meeting was punishable. But I couldn't make myself move. These were decisions about my life, about Nora's future. Did I not have some right to know?
I edged closer to the War Chamber entrance, pressing myself against the wall Through the narrow gap in the door, I could see the edge of a large table and several figures seated around it.
"Alpha Garrett of Riverside has agreed to take three women," Silas' familiar voice came through. "His pack has the infrastructure to support them, and he's promised full integration, including housing and work assignments."
My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat.
"Alpha Chen from Mountain Ridge will take two," another voice added. "Possibly three if the women have skills his pack needs. He's particularly interested in anyone with healing or teaching experience."
The discussion continued, each Alpha's offer dissected and analyzed. I should have felt relief that so many packs were willing to take us in. Instead, I felt nothing but a cold, creeping dread.
Because they had not mentioned me yet. Had not mentioned the rogue omega with the fresh severing scar and a three-year-old child.
"What about the others?" someone asked. "We still have nearly twenty women unaccounted for."
"Alpha Morrison has expressed interest in taking five for his textile operations. He's willing to provide training and fair compensation."
"That leaves the more complicated cases," a female voice said, and I heard papers rustling. "The rogue omega and her daughter present a unique challenge. Most packs won't accept rogues, particularly not one with a child. The liability is considered too great."
There it was. The truth I had been trying not to think about since I arrived.
"Maybe she could remain here?" someone suggested tentatively. "She's been working in the kitchen without incident. Chef Marcus reports that she's efficient and follows instructions well."
My breath caught. Hope flared in my chest, bright and desperate.
"Absolutely not." The female voice came again, sharp with disapproval and I fought the urge to take a peek through the door at her face. "Setting a precedent of harboring rogues in the King's own castle would send entirely the wrong message. We have laws for a reason."
The hope died as quickly as it had sparked to life.
"Then what do you propose?" the first voice asked. "We can't simply cast her out. She…"
"I'll take them." Another voice interrupted. Smooth, cultured, and carrying a familiar undertone
Every muscle in my body went rigid.
That voice. I knew that voice.
My wolf that had been quiet for the last couple of weeks, still recovering from the trauma we had gone through, suddenly surged forward.
I shifted slightly, forgetting caution for a second, desperate to see through the gap in the door. My angle was limited, but I could make out more of the table now. Several figures in suits, their faces mostly obscured. And then, seated close to where the head of the table was, I saw him.
Those cold blue eyes, thin, cruel lips and that predatory smile of someone who always got what he wanted.
The man from the auction house.
The world stopped.
My vision narrowed to pinpricks, everything else fading into a gray haze except for that face. I remembered those eyes traveling over me like I was livestock, I could still hear his voice clearly calling out bids.
My hand flew to my mouth, pressing hard against my lips to trap the scream that threatened to escape.