Serena sank a bit lower into the hot tub, closing her eyes and letting the almost scalding water bite into her skin.
She took great liberty in letting the water boil over the stone hearth, steam filling the large kitchen. Serena was giddy as she ran up the steps, a bit careless with the kettle in her hand.
The heat clung to her skin, soaking into her muscles, loosening the tight knots of exhaustion that had settled there for far too long.
The scent of lavender drifted around her now, calming, familiar. She had found the bath scents in the corner of the room and had generously helped herself. Gods, it had been ages since she had bathed like this.
Two years.
Two years since she had last felt the comfort of a steaming wooden tub. Two years since the exile.
She realized, with so degree of annoyance, that she had adopted Darius’s habit of sighing audibly. Still, it was hard not to let her mind wander.
She was grateful for this mont of stillness, no darting eyes, no tense shoulders, no paranoia that sothing lurked just beyond the tree line.
She had spent too long bathing in cold rivers, rushing through the motions, her ears tuned for the snap of a twig or the rustle of unseen danger.
Even the makeshift bath scents, bundles of crushed herbs thrown into cold water, were a far cry from the fragrant oils she had now.
Serena let out a sigh of relief and sank even lower into the tub.
Her heart almost leapt into her throat when she heard the kettle clatter to the ground. She shot up from the water with enough force to send most of it splashing onto the floor. Her hand flew to her chest as she tried to steady her breathing.
"I’m safe," she whispered, voice hoarse. The words felt foreign on her tongue. She repeated them, over and over, until her pulse slowed.
Serena stroked a jagged scar on her arm, unconsciously, her eyes narrowing as she thought, Those amber eyes will never find again.
She stepped out of the tub, not caring about the ss she was making. She would tend to that later. She wrung her hair and grabbed a towel, wiping herself down, her mind slipping into the past.
It had been almost five months since she was exiled, and she was deep in the east when she’d been attacked by a rogue wolf. The weight of his body crashing into hers, the sharp sting of claws raking down her arm.
He had ignored her pleas to spare her.
Serena rembered the thirst for blood in his eyes. Without her wolf, Feyra, she’d been as vulnerable as a lamb.
Her fingers dug into the fabric of the towel.
It had been a great struggle, but she recognized the way the wolf fought. Thank Lunara, her father had put her through those grueling early-morning training sessions when he was still alive.
Even so, without her wolf, it was difficult, but she overca the wolf, sending her dagger through his heart.
It had truly been the first ti there was blood on her hands. It was in self-defense, but that didn’t stop her from wallowing in guilt. This scar was proof of the struggle.
She changed into a loose-fitting satin robe, cleaned up the water on the floor, applied so oil to her hair and ointnt to her body, then stepped out into one of the bedrooms she had chosen to sleep in.
It had been a little over a day since Darius had brought her to the manor, and for the most part, she had slept, using her waking hours to explore.
By her estimation, she had only seen about a third of the entire building, but she had tired herself out and drifted off to sleep again.
She opened the wardrobe. It was mostly bare except for the old red-and-white gown she had worn previously and a few house garnts.
She ran her hand through the dresses until she settled on a white cotton gown. The lilies embroidered along the hem were a delicate touch that brought a small smile to her face.
Serena made her way to the main living room when she heard the door open. She stood up from the cushion and went to the hallway, expecting to see fiery red hair but instead, she saw auburn. And it belonged to a woman.
Serena’s eyes swept over the stranger, taking in the sharp set of her features, the stiffness of her posture.
The woman dismissed two guards with nothing more than a wave of her hand, and they obeyed without question, slipping back outside and closing the door behind them.
Serena had t very few people in the pack, so it was no surprise that this woman was unfamiliar. But her hard eyes made sothing in Serena’s stomach twist.
She swallowed. Did this woman know who she truly was? Or at least, who she had lied to be, a rogue wolf?
Still, wouldn’t everyone who wasn’t an Elder or Emtt assu she was an Ambassador from now on? Unless this woman was an Elder. But she hadn’t been present at the pseudo-trial, so-
"Once you’re done gawking, you’d acknowledge ," the woman said, her voice cool, snapping Serena out of her thoughts.
"Ah, yes, I’m sorry," Serena said, keeping her hands clasped behind her back.
The woman stepped closer, her gaze sharp and inspecting. She moved with quiet confidence, stopping just an arm’s length away. She was of average height- Serena stood about half a head taller than her.
"Livia is my na," she said.
"And I’m-"
"Serena. I know," Livia interrupted, her tone carrying a hint of irritation, as if saying Serena’s na greatly annoyed her.
Serena’s fingers curled tighter behind her back, pressing into her palms but she refused to look away, eting Livia’s sharp brown eyes with a steady gaze.
"Ah, well then," Serena said, keeping her tone light, "welco, I suppose."
That earned a scoff from the other woman. She shook her head.
"Who do you really think you are?"
Serena’s jaw tightened. She had been asked many things in her lifeti, but never quite like that.
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