Maria.

"Who?" she asked, blinking at me, a puzzled crease forming between her brows, as if I had suddenly begun speaking a language she’d never heard in her life.

Her face was a blank canvas, wide-eyed, confused, innocent, the kind of expression someone wore when they wanted you to believe they had absolutely no idea what you were talking about.

But I wasn’t buying it.

"The guy who just walked down the hallway," I said slowly, deliberately, my voice steady even though my heart was thudding with suspicion. "I saw him talking to you."

I didn’t look away and ensured I didn’t shift my stance, didn’t soften my voice. Instead, I held her gaze as tightly as I could, studying her, trying to memorize every flicker across her face, any twitch of the eye, any tightening of her jaw, any sign that might betray more than she wanted me to know.

For the briefest moment, there was stillness.

Then recognition flowed into her features, slow and reluctant, like she’d just remembered something that wasn’t worth remembering.

"Oh, him!" she exclaimed, waving a hand dismissively, her tone bordering on breezy nonchalance. "There is no need to bother. He just accompanied me here for a while."

Just accompanied.

As though men like that, well-dressed, powerful, and clearly not part of our struggling tier, strolled around at random, escorting rogues through moonlit hallways for fun.

"Really?" I countered, the word leaving my mouth sharper than I intended. "But it looked like he wore expensive clothes." I paused, emphasizing each syllable as I continued, "Definitely not someone who would just easily accompany people who are tagged a rogue in this pack."

The label landed between us, rogue—cold and uncomfortable, the truth of our status hanging in the air like a sour scent neither of us wanted to acknowledge.

Her face darkened instantly.

Like a shadow sliding across her expression, irritation flickered into her eyes and settled there, sharp-edged and defensive.

"Oh geez," she muttered, rolling her eyes as if I was the one behaving strangely. "Is this an interrogation?" Her tone rose, uneven, not quite angry, but thick with the warning that she wanted the conversation to end. "Calm down, okay?" She gave a short, forced laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. "You’re making it look like a big deal."

She didn’t wait for me to respond.

Instead, she reached for the door with a casual flick of her wrist, her fingers skimming along the wooden surface like she had ironed out all irritation with a simple touch. Without another glance in my direction, not a sigh, not a backward step, not even a whisper of explanation, she pushed the door open wide.

And just like that, she slipped inside, the light swallowing her, her answer trailing behind her like smoke, thin, evasive, and completely unsatisfying.

"You really won’t say, right?" I asked, stepping in after her before the door could swing closed completely. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

My voice wasn’t loud, but there was an edge to it, the kind that came from a head full of unanswered questions and a heart not ready to let them go.

Galen didn’t stop moving.

She crossed the small room with quick, efficient steps, shrugging off the invisible weight of my accusation like she’d done it a hundred times.

"Come on," she called over her shoulder, sounding almost annoyed and yet pretending she wasn’t. "I was looking for you. Remember I said I don’t really know my way around here." She spun toward me just long enough for me to see her eyes, steady, rehearsed, too calm. "I was searching everywhere for you when I bumped into him."

Her tone shifted into something airy and light, like she was reliving the moment and editing it in her head before offering it to me.

"And he kind of wanted to talk to me, so we just strode down to this place." She shrugged, lifting her hands as if the whole thing had been nothing more than an accidental stroll through the halls. "He offered to see where I stay."

I nodded slowly, though the explanation scraped me wrong from the inside. "Oh," I said, deliberately casual. "But it is really safe to reveal your location to strangers."

My voice was soft, but the meaning wasn’t. Strangers didn’t escort rogues. And they definitely didn’t offer to see where the rogues stayed.

But Galen didn’t say a word.

She didn’t even blink.

Instead, she turned away, her body language dropping all interest in the subject like someone shutting a window against an annoying draft. Her silence spoke louder than any explanation she’d given.

"So where did you go?" she asked suddenly, brushing past my comment like it never existed. Her tone swung back to curiosity, maybe even genuine. "I genuinely searched everywhere for you."

She paused, midmovement, midbreath, and turned to face me fully.

"Alpha Adrien was also looking for you."

Her brow lifted slowly, a question forming before she even spoke it aloud. "Are you sure you have no relationship with the Alphas’?"

There it was.

The question again.

Persistent. Uncomfortable. Crawling up behind my ribs the way it always did.

I stood still, the air around me tightening.

Why was she so fixated on that?

What did she think she saw? or wanted to believe she saw?

Her eyes stayed on mine, unblinking, searching for a crack, a secret, something I hadn’t meant to show.

My lips parted, but the words tangled somewhere deep in my chest.

What the hell did she want from me?

And why did it matter so much to her?

The more she asked, the more it felt like her curiosity wasn’t innocent, like there was something underneath, something she wasn’t saying.

And for the first time, I realized...maybe the mystery wasn’t the man she’d been with.

Maybe the mystery was Galen herself.

"There is no relationship or sort between us," I replied, trying to keep my tone light, flat, and completely unbothered.

But even to my own ears, the words sounded half-hearted, the kind of explanation given more to shut a door than open one.

"I am just their personal maid," I continued, forcing myself to meet her gaze so she wouldn’t hear the tremor I felt inside. "So it’s normal for them to look for me every now and then."

The sentence ended with a shrug, one I hoped looked casual enough to mask every frantic heartbeat slamming against my ribs.

"Oh, okay! If you say so." Galen’s smile bloomed instantly, too wide, too empty, too practiced.

A smile that wanted to convince me she believed me...but clearly didn’t.

Her lips stretched, but her eyes didn’t warm, didn’t soften, didn’t match a fraction of the expression she wore. I could feel the falseness of it from where I stood. It floated between us like a thin veil neither of us was brave enough to tear.

She turned away, smoothing her dress unnecessarily before glancing back at me.

"I still have to attend to the guest assigned to me," she said, as though nothing awkward had just transpired. "Remember we have to serve them dinner before we can retire for the day?"

She paused long enough to flash another polite smile, this one smaller, neater, but still not reaching her eyes.

"I’ll be leaving now."

My mouth twitched, words caught somewhere in my throat, but I swallowed them down. What was the point of pushing a conversation she so clearly wanted to abandon?

The door clicked softly as she left the room, the air shifting instantly into silence, and I stood motionless, staring after her for a long second.

Then the irritation rushed in, hot, sharp, and impossible to bury.

"Holy shit! The so-called dinner." I muttered angrily, pacing a few steps before throwing myself onto the bed.

Because of course fate would have the last blow of the night.

Darren.

Patricia.

And Noah.

The trifecta of people I absolutely did not want to face tonight, or any night, really.

The thought alone crawled beneath my skin.

Seeing Darren’s smug face again. Watching Patricia drape herself all over him like she owned the world.

And worst of all—Noah...

The Noah who once looked at me like I mattered. The Noah who had just proven my resolve weaker than I pretended. The Noah who had unknowingly pried open an old, dusty wound I’d sworn was sealed forever.

Great.

Just perfect.

"Arrrrrrrghhhh!" The sound tore from my throat before I could stop it.

I grabbed the nearest pillow, pressed it over my mouth, and screamed into the cotton until my lungs burned and my voice choked.

A childish release, but satisfying.

When I finally dropped the pillow, the room was quiet again. The kind of quiet that felt like it held its breath.

The door had shut behind Galen minutes ago, but it felt like it had closed much harder, like she’d taken the last sliver of company with her, leaving me to drown in my own thoughts.

And now I was alone, with nothing but my frustration, my dread, and the bitter truth I couldn’t shake.

Avoiding Noah would be harder than I thought.