Rejected and Claimed by her Alpha Triplets Chapter 206 - my fury

206

~Fridolf’s POV

I stepped out of Belinda’s chamber and closed the door softly behind . The hall was quiet, but I kept a slow smile on my face. I liked the quiet. It let hear what the house could not say out loud.

I stood there by the door for a long mont, hands behind my back, thinking. Then I said aloud, not because anyone needed to hear, but because words felt like heat and made things real.

"Everything is in place," I said to the empty stones, and the sound of my voice bounced back at like a promise.

Adrik was at the door, as steady as ever. He did not bow or tremble. He only watched , eyes clear, patient.

"You did well," I told him.

Adrik’s mouth moved in a small motion that was almost like a nod. He kept his hands folded in front of him. "As you ordered, uncle."

I stepped closer. The light from the corridor made thin lines on his face. He looked younger up close. He looked strong, and he was fit for what I had in mind. He was the man who would do what I asked without asking why.

"Do as I told you," I said, slow and even. "Stay with her. Feed her. Watch her. And when the mont cos, look for the small openings. I need dirt on her to ta her."

Adrik’s voice was low. "Yes, Your Highness. I understand."

I smiled then. It was small and without warmth, but it pleased . "Good. You know what you must do."

He did not speak anymore. He did not need to. I walked away down the hall. My boots made even beats on the stone. The palace breathed, slow. I let my mind turn over the pieces in my head like a gambler turning cards.

I laughed under my breath, a short sound, and then I spoke aloud to fill the emptiness.

When I reached my room, I closed the door and stood for a heartbeat in the dark. Then I called, loud enough that the corridor would know.

"Bring the maids. Bring the wine. Tell them to be clean and quick."

A servant answered at once. "Yes, Your Highness."

I did not wait. I sat, boots off, and let my mind roll like a wheel. For years, I had watched the pack. The throne had been brushed past my hands once by fools and grief. I had wanted it then. I wanted it now, more than I had ever wanted anything.

My fingers found the glass on the table. I poured wine, not for savoring for thinking. The red burned cold going down. It sharpened my thoughts.

The sound in the hall changed. Voices. Cloth rustling. Footsteps. The maids ca in, three of them, clean and quick. They bowed.

"Your Highness," one said, "what should we bring?"

I smiled thinly. "Wine. Thick bread. at. And the good oil for the hands." I said it like a man choosing spices. "And be fast."

They moved with purpose. I watched them set the table, their lips barely moving.

One maid glanced up, a bold look, and I looked back. I liked bold. Bold could be useful.

"Co here," I said suddenly, so the maid did as she was instructed.

I smiled. For a mont, it was all show: the smile of a prince who had never been refused. "Do you know why I called you?"

"To serve, Your Highness." She said it like a prayer.

"Closer," I said.

She stepped in. So neat. So scared. My hand found her shoulder the way one takes a flag. "You serve ?"

"Yes." The word cracked.

"You enjoy it?" I leaned in so close I could sll the lavender on her wrists.

She flinched. "We are here to serve, Your Highness. Nothing more."

A laugh slipped out of . "Nothing more?" I looked around, daring soone to answer. "Is that what you tell yourselves? That you’re nothing but servants? That you have no voice?"

The room held its breath.

"You forget your place," I said. "A pretty mouth like yours, you could make others believe anything."

She opened her lips, closed them again. She was trying not to cry. I liked the fight in her face. It made the air taste better.

"Do you think I will ask twice?" I asked. "I’m a man who likes to be obeyed."

She lifted her chin. "I am a maid. I will not..."

Her refusal spat like a slap.

"How dare you?" I said. "How dare you look in the eye and say no?"

I moved faster than I thought. My hand found her cheek hard and fast.

She staggered but did not fall. The red blood in her face where my palm had landed.

"You will learn," I said. My voice was low, quiet as a knife. "If one of you refuses , the rest will rember their place."

"Please," she whispered. It wasn’t an apology. It was sothing smaller: a plea to be left alone.

I moved closer again, feeling the room shrink around us. She flinched, stepped back, eyes wide, voice a small thing in the noisy hall. "Your Highness...please..." she whispered, hands clutched to her skirts like a lifeline.

I smiled. A smile that had nothing kind in it. "Co closer," I said, low and easy, as if asking for a favor. When she didn’t move, I reached out and took her by the wrist. Her skin trembled under my fingers. She tried to pull free; her breath hitched.

"No," she said, plain and trembling. "I...no."

I slapped her again. Everyone turned, faces lit by candlelight and fear. She pressed her palm to her cheek, staggered. For a mont, I watched the sha burn across her face, and the heat inside cald to a colder thing, satisfaction, not desire.

"Do you forget who stands here?" I asked, voice carrying. "I’m the Alphas’ great-uncle. I will take what I want." I kept my hand on her wrist, not gently.

"Whoever refuses will learn the cost," I said, almost conversational. Another maid swallowed, and another one in the corner coughed to hide the shake in her voice.

I yanked my hand back and glared at them all, my chest rising with anger. "Get out!" I barked, the word snapping like a whip. "All of you...leave! Get out!"

Skirts rustled, and not a single eye dared to et mine. One by one, they hurried toward the door, heads bowed, tripping over themselves in their rush to escape my fury.