Chapter 7

Serena

We made our way back inside and it was time for the feast

The mansion had never looked so alive.

Golden light spilled from the chandeliers above, painting the long dining hall in warmth that felt fake against the cold tension in the air. The best silverware gleamed from every table. The Beta himself had ordered rare wine from the coast. Three different kinds of meat were served roasted boar, venison, and spiced lamb each laid out in fine dishes across the central table where the pack's high-ranking members sat.

And at the head of it all, Alpha Kael.

He hadn't said much since his arrival. Barely a word, not even to the Elders who tried to make polite conversation as they found their seats. He gave only nods, a sharp flick of his eyes, and the occasional quiet command to a guard. He didn't have to speak loudly. When he said something, people listened. Talk about aura!

He sat tall, back straight, one hand resting lightly around a glass of deep red wine. His suit jacket was gone now, leaving him in a dark shirt that clung to the muscle beneath it. His silver eyes roamed the room like a silent threat one no one dared challenge.

And I...

I tried not to look.

I really did.

But every time I passed by his table, balancing a tray of drinks or refilling plates, my eyes flicked up before I could stop them. And every time, my heart raced with fear that he might catch me.

He didn't speak to me. Of course not. I was just a maid nothing special. Just another face among the staff who wore the same plain black dress, hair pulled back, apron tied tightly. But still, I couldn't stop glancing his way. Something about him felt like gravity.

"Serena," my mother hissed in my ear as she passed, carrying a platter of bread rolls, "keep your eyes down. You're not a guest here."

"I know," I whispered, lowering my gaze.

But I still felt him.

The Elders sat closest to Kael, trying to impress him with stories and flattery. Elder Alric the most powerful among them boomed with laughter at his own joke. His daughter, Mirah, sat at his side, back straight, dress glittering gold. She was stunning. Full-blooded werewolf. Born into wealth, trained for power. The room already treated her like the Luna, even though nothing had been officially announced.

Mirah's eyes drifted to Kael often. She laughed softly, touched his arm once when he spoke, though he didn't touch her back. I watched the way she leaned toward him, her smile sharp and confident.

She looked like she belonged beside him.

And I... looked like a ghost in the walls.

I carried a tray of crystal glasses, my fingers trembling slightly under the weight. One wrong move and it could all come crashing down. I bit my lip, forcing myself to focus on the table. One guest at a time. Set the glass. Smile politely. Move on.

But when I reached the Alpha's table again, I made the mistake of glancing.

Just once.

His eyes were already on me.

Still. Quiet. Like frost.

I froze in place for a heartbeat. The tray in my hands felt suddenly heavier. My breath caught. And for a second... I forgot where I was. Forgot who I was.

Then it happened.

One of the glasses slipped.

It tilted just a little too far, caught on the edge of the tray and fell.

It hit the floor with a sharp, ringing shatter.

The room went silent.

My face flushed hot with shame. I dropped to my knees immediately, gathering the glass with shaky hands, careful not to cut myself. Wine stained the white tile like blood. I felt dozens of eyes on me, but none of them burned like his.

Kael hadn't said a word. He still sat there, unmoving.

Just watching me.

I didn't dare look up again. I kept my head down as I picked up every last shard, heart pounding in my ears.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, though I knew no one would answer.

When it was done, I stood slowly, clutching the broken pieces in one hand and the now-empty tray in the other. I turned and hurried through the servant's hallway, disappearing into the kitchen as fast as I could without running.

Inside, I let out a breath that had been stuck in my chest for what felt like hours.

My mother stormed in right behind me.

"Do you want to be thrown out?" she hissed, slamming the door behind her. "Eyes down, Serena. I've told you this since you were a child. You are not like them. You do not have their protection. If you shame this house.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"You're lucky he didn't say anything. Some Alphas would have punished you right there."

I nodded, even though her words barely landed. I wasn't thinking about the broken glass or the angry stares.

All I could see in my head was him.

The way he looked at me.

It wasn't kindness. It wasn't hatred. It was... interest. Cautious, cold interest, like I was something he hadn't expected to find in his perfect house. Like I was out of place but not invisible.

I didn't understand it.

I didn't want to understand it.

I just couldn't shake the feeling of his eyes on me.

I dropped the glass into the waste bin, washed my hands at the basin, and tried to steady my breathing.

Back in the dining hall, music had started again. The feast continued as if nothing had happened.

But I knew the Alpha had seen me.

And that was the first mistake of my life

Serena

I didn't dream that night.

I didn't sleep deeply enough to

No one in my shoes would. I feel butterflies in my belly already for a man I'm forbidden to even look at.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the same thing shattered glass, deep red wine, and those unreadable silver eyes staring straight into me. My stomach twisted every time I remembered the sound, the silence after, the weight of the whole room watching me kneel.

But it wasn't the shame that kept me awake.

It was him.

The Alpha.

The way he looked at me. Calm. Quiet. Studying me like I was something he hadn't decided whether to keep or crush.

I got out of bed before dawn.

The guest wing was still and cold, the old pipes humming beneath the walls. Ari stirred once in his crib but stayed asleep. I watched his little chest rise and fall, his soft curls clinging to his forehead. For a moment, I let myself be distracted by him by the only thing in my world that made sense.

But that peace didn't last long.

By the time I was dressed and quietly sweeping the hallway outside our small apartment, I heard footsteps sharp, fast ones.

Marla, the head maid, turned the corner with a paper slip clutched in her hand. Her heels clicked with purpose.

"There you are," she said, holding out the note without even greeting me.

I wiped my palms on my apron before taking it.

My eyes scanned the paper.

Reassignment Order: Serena H.

New Duty: Alpha Kael's Personal Chamber – Room 301.

Effective: Immediately.

I blinked.

I read it again.

"This... can't be right," I said, my voice dry. "There must be a mistake"

"No mistake," Marla said flatly. "It came from the Beta's mouth. Signed and sealed. You're to report to your mother for protocol. Now."

She turned and walked away.

I stood frozen in place.

Assigned to Alpha Kael's personal wing?

Me?

I felt a jolt in my chest not fear exactly, but something close. Something cold and hot at the same time. Was it because of last night? Was this punishment? A test? Or something worse?

I found my mother in the main kitchen, giving orders to the younger maids. She looked tired, but sharp as always her sleeves rolled up, apron tied tight. When I handed her the paper, she barely flinched.

"I knew this would happen," she muttered, folding it once and tucking it away.

"Knew what?"

"That your eyes would land on something dangerous."

"I didn't do anything," I said quietly.

She turned to me then, and her face was serious. Too serious.

"Listen to me, Serena. You've been assigned to his care, so you'll do your job. But you must remember what you are in this house."

Her voice lowered.

"You're human. You're a maid. That man is an Alpha."

"I know that"

"No. You think you do. But you've never served someone like him. Alpha Kael wasn't raised here. He wasn't spoiled by soft rules and friendly elders. He was shaped in blood, raised by warriors, and trained to lead in war. He's not cruel for sport he's cruel for survival. You don't look him in the eyes. You don't speak unless spoken to. You clean. You serve. You leave."

Her eyes bore into mine.

"And you never, under any circumstance, get comfortable."

I nodded slowly, my throat tight.

She pressed a key into my hand. It was silver, cold, and had the number 301 engraved at the top.

"Start now," she said.