"Do you feel that?" Erald said ntally as she descended the staircase.
Viola stirred inside her mind, all sharp teeth and unease. "I feel eyes... too many."
"I thought maybe I was being paranoid," Erald replied, scanning the lavish hallway lined with ancient paintings and glass cases of odd relics.
"You’re not. Sothing’s off."
Erald kept her expression neutral as she pushed open the heavy wooden door to the private dining hall Lucien had ntioned earlier.
He was already waiting.
The room was softly lit by warm, golden wall lights, creating shadows on the long, smooth table prepared for two. A cosy fire crackled in the fireplace, and the delicious sll of roasted at and herbs filled the air, bringing a sense of warmth.
Lucien stood when she entered, dressed in a tailored black jacket that matched the quiet sophistication of the room.
"I hope this isn’t too formal," he said. "I thought we’d use the private dining hall while you’re here. Easier to talk, fewer ears."
"Appreciated," Erald replied.
He pulled her seat out. "You’re not one for crowded spaces."
"Not when I’m surrounded by people who look at like I’ve brought the apocalypse with ."
Lucien’s brow lifted slightly, but he didn’t ask. She hadn’t ant to say it out loud.
Erald cleared her throat and sat. The mory of those cold stares in the corridor still clung to her like a damp cloak. She hadn’t heard everything they were saying, but the tension had been unmistakable. Still... maybe she was imagining it. Overreacting.
Dinner passed in peaceful conversation. They spoke about neutral topics: literature, recent trade deals, and Lucien spoke about the Alpha Summit he attended years ago when he just beca Alpha.
"You’ve always led with calm," she said after their plates were cleared. "No posturing, no theatrics."
"I find quiet strength tends to reach farther," he said. "Most people shout because they don’t believe they’ll be heard."
Erald smirked. "Careful, you’re starting to sound like a philosopher."
"I’ll try to tone it down tomorrow. Speaking of..." he added, standing and offering his hand, "I was thinking I could give you a proper tour of the estate. There’s a greenhouse I think you’d like; it’s quiet and secluded."
Erald offered a faint smile. "That sounds good."
"Looking forward to it," she said, rising and taking his arm.
They walked down the long hallway; the estate was quiet except for the gentle sound of their footsteps. When they reached her door, Lucien paused and turned to look at her. He seed lost in thought, and for a mont, he said nothing.
Erald raised a brow. "Sothing wrong?"
He hesitated, then looked at her with a seriousness she hadn’t seen all evening. "Where does ’he’ stand in all this?"
Erald froze, knowing fully well who the ’he’ in question is... Ares.
The question ca too suddenly, too plainly. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. "I’m not sure I understand the question," she finally said carefully.
Lucien sighed and leaned against the wall beside her door. "Erald... I know you don’t want us interfering in your personal life. I know you can fight your own battles. But I’m worried."
"I can handle him," she said quickly. "You don’t need to worry."
His eyes stayed on her. "But can you really? He’s not like the rest of us. He doesn’t operate on logic. What he has for you... It isn’t love, Erald. It’s an obsession."
She looked away.
Lucien continued. "It’s part of the reason I pushed for this arrangent. Not just for the fairness, but because I wanted to give you so distance, to get you out of that environnt."
She blinked, caught off guard. "You planned this... for ?"
"A change of place can bring clarity."
Erald sighed. "A change of place won’t stop Ares. He’ll find wherever I go. But... thank you. I appreciate the thought."
Lucien stepped closer, gently brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You don’t have to be afraid here."
She forced a small smile.
Then he leaned in and kissed her forehead.
Erald froze at the feel of his lips, her heart racing, though for a different reason..
Her eyes scanned the hallway, taking in the dark corners and long shadows. Although there was nothing or no one around, she sensed sothing unsettling.
Lucien noticed her unease and took a step back. "Is sothing wrong?" he asked.
"No," she said quickly. "Just... tired."
He nodded once, then stepped back. "I’ll leave you to rest, then. We’ll begin the tour mid-morning."
Erald slipped into her room and shut the door softly behind her, leaning against it for a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding.
Was she truly afraid?
No... not afraid. But she couldn’t ignore the weight of Ares’ threat. If he touches you... It won’t end well for him.
It wasn’t just a possessive remark. With Ares, she knew, he ant it.
And sohow, that knowledge wasn’t just terrifying. It was... consuming.
She didn’t sleep well that night.
The bed was comfortable, the sheets were clean, but the sense of displacent, of being watched, never quite left her. Even in her dreams, she saw eyes, gold and red, staring from the edge of shadow.
By morning, she was already awake when the maid knocked on her door.
"Breakfast, Alpha."
"Leave it on the table, thank you," Erald said, rising from bed and pulling a long robe around herself.
The maid did as instructed and left without a word.
The al was simple: toast, fruit, and tea, but Erald barely touched it. She kept hearing the whisper of voices from the previous night, the way people had stared.
She needed answers.
Lucien arrived an hour later, punctual and composed in a dark grey vest and black shirt. "You look ready."
"I am."
"Shall we?" He offered his arm again, and she took it with a nod.
He began the tour with the library. It was breathtaking, with tall arched windows, shelves that reached the ceiling, and an iron spiral staircase that curved through the centre.
"You’d live here if you could," he joked.
"I’m tempted."
From there, he showed her the Grand Hall, used for ceremonies and etings. The gardens ca next, carefully tended despite the winter’s touch, with pale roses and silver-leaved hedges lining cobbled paths.
Erald took it all in, trying to let the calm ground her. But even in the beauty, sothing felt off.
"Can we walk past the Alpha quarters?" she asked suddenly.
Lucien blinked. "Why?"
"I want to see it."
Lucien paused. "Are you sure?"
"I’m not here just for wine and garden tours," she replied. "If I’m supposed to understand you, then I should understand where you live, where you rule."
He hesitated only a mont longer, then nodded. "Alright."
He led her down a long stone path lined with wolf statues and dried climbing vines. The Alpha’s quarters were located in a more secluded section of the estate, built like a private manor connected by stone bridges and tall gates.
It was beautiful and elegant, but... wrong.
The further they went, the heavier the air beca. Not in a magical, social, or emotional way, almost like a pressure building behind her ears.
Erald slowed her pace as they walked.
Servants, workers, and elders passed by, and every single one of them stopped to stare.
Their looks weren’t filled with curiosity; they were full of judgnt, resentnt, and... was that fear?
Erald made herself keep moving, her back straight and jaw locked, trying not to show how much their gazes bothered her.
Then, just as they passed a small courtyard filled with statues, she heard a tiny voice. "Here cos the tyrant.".
She turned her head sharply.
A small boy, no older than six, stood by a hedge. His eyes widened when he saw her look, and he imdiately turned and ran, vanishing into the trees.
Erald stopped in her tracks. Lucien did too, his shoulders stiffening.
"What was that?"
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