Erald stirred slowly, feeling a heavy weight on her arms and legs, as if her body was filled with sand.
The room was quiet, dark, and dimly lit by moonlight spilling in from the balcony. The fire in the hearth had gone out, and the shadows had returned to their quiet corners.
Her head throbbed, and for a few seconds, she just lay there, staring at the carved ceiling.
Where am I? She asked herself.
Then it all ca rushing back: the fire, the sealed door, the smoke curling under her nose, the heat on her skin, and just before she passed out... the shadow.
She sat up slowly, ignoring the spike of pain behind her eyes.
Had soone followed here? She thought, taking in sharp, shallow breaths. Was it the sa person from my pack? The one who sent the ssages?
"Maybe," Viola murmured in her mind. "But what if it wasn’t? What if it was soone here?"
Before Erald could respond, the door creaked open
Lucien stepped into the room, dressed down in a soft grey shirt and slacks, hair tousled like he’d been pacing, maybe even running a hand through it a hundred tis.
There was so tension in his shoulders she hadn’t seen before, but he looked relieved to see her awake. "You’re up," he said softly.
Erald leaned back against the headboard. "Barely. My lungs feel like ash."
He crossed the room and sat in the chair beside her bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Sore, light-headed." She paused. "And confused. It’s as if I nearly died." She paused. "What happened after you pulled out?"
Lucien moved from the chair to the edge of the bed, not too close. "The flas were put out, and you passed out."
That word made her flinch.
"Do you rember anything? How it started?"
Erald nodded slowly. "I rember walking the halls... then I got lost, I tried to call you, but then soone shoved and I fell into the room. Then the door slamd shut. I tried to get out, but it was sealed. Then smoke... fire." She paused again. "That’s it."
Viola’s voice rose in her mind. "Why didn’t you tell him about the shadow?"
"Because I’m not sure what I saw," Erald thought back. "And I’m not about to cause a panic over a maybe."
Viola growled, displeased.
Lucien ran a hand down his face, but said nothing for a long while.
Erald broke the silence. "What’s going on, Lucien?"
He looked at her, confused. "What do you an?"
She stared at him like he’d just spoken a foreign language. "What do you an ’what do I an’? Soone tried to kill here... in your ho. I’m sure as hell that was no random incident.
"And don’t pretend everything’s fine. Because I know there’s sothing you’re not telling ."
Lucien didn’t answer right away. "I’ll get to the bottom of this," he said finally. "But you’re safe now."
"No. I’m not." Erald’s voice was quiet, but every word landed like a strike.
Lucien stood as if to leave, but she called after him. "Wait."
He turned.
She stared up at him. "I know sothing is wrong in this pack. You brought here. So why can’t you just tell ?"
Lucien’s expression didn’t shift.
"The cold stares. The whispers. That boy in the courtyard... he called you a tyrant. What does that an?"
He looked down, then turned his gaze to the window. "Kids say strange things."
"Don’t do that," she said sharply. "Don’t lie. Don’t insult by pretending I imagined it."
"I’m not lying."
"No? Then explain this to : why do your own people look at you like they want to rip you apart? I’ve been threatened, stalked, attacked... but at least my people don’t look at with hatred."
Lucien looked at her for a mont too long. When he finally spoke, his voice was asured and calm. "You need to rest, Erald. I’ll check on you later."
And just like that, he left the room.
Erald stood there for a mont, stunned, her hands curled into fists. "What the hell is he hiding?" she whispered.
Viola let out a low growl. "Sothing big. And we’re not going to find it by waiting for him to confess."
"I know."
She paced the room a few tis, heart still beating hard. Every nerve in her body was on edge. She couldn’t rest, not like this. Not when her life had been threatened and Lucien refused to give her answers.
She sat on the bed and grabbed her phone. Her fingers hovered over a few nas before she finally tapped one.
If Lucien wouldn’t tell her, soone else might.
He answered almost instantly. "Erald?"
Just the sound of his voice made her shoulders drop an inch. He sounded tired but alert, like he’d been waiting for this call.
Her breath hitched slightly. "Kieran, hey."
He let out a breath. "You okay?"
"More or less."
There was a pause.
"How’s it going with Lucien?" he asked, trying for lightness. "Or should I say... Alpha Midnight, Lord of the Shadows."
Erald gave a soft, humourless chuckle. "That’s one way to put it."
"Let guess. He’s walking around in three layers of black and not saying anything real, aside from his usual words of wisdom?"
She smiled faintly. "Sothing like that."
"You know, I’m still a little amused that he got so jealous he pitched this whole rotation idea."
"I’m not here to talk about that," she said quickly.
Kieran caught her tone. "You sound off. What’s going on?"
Erald hesitated. "What do you know about Lucien’s pack?"
There was a long pause.
"You’re not asking that randomly," he said slowly. "What happened?"
"I just..." she trailed off. "Sothing’s off. I don’t know if you’ve ben here before, but the way they look and act? It’s sohow. And it’s not just ; they look at him the sa cold, scared and distant way."
"Cold how?"
"Like they’re scared of him. Or hate him. Or both."
Another long pause.
"I’m not imagining it, Kieran."
"I know you’re not."
Erald sat down again, voice softer. "So... what aren’t people saying?"
More silence.
Then Kieran sighed. "Not many people know this. It’s not the kind of thing you share openly in diplomatic circles."
"Tell ."
"Lucien didn’t inherit his title. He... took it."
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