Maria.

I woke with Adrien’s arm locked around my waist, heavy and possessive, as though it had been placed there to remind me of my place even in sleep. I should have felt warmth, comfort, the kind that came from sharing a bed with someone else. Instead, a cold ache settled deep in my chest, spreading slowly until it pressed against my ribs. To him, I wasn’t cherished or wanted. I was only a body beside his, something to occupy the empty space and keep the night at bay.

Dawn hovered just beyond the curtains, the world outside drowned in pale fog. The air was quiet, fragile, as though the pack itself still slept. To me, it felt like the only window of freedom I would get. If I could just slip away now, before anyone stirred, before questions were asked or eyes lingered too long, I might escape unseen.

Carefully, I shifted, trying to ease his arm from around my waist. I barely moved an inch before his voice cut through the stillness.

"Don’t move, Maria. If you do, don’t blame me for what happens next."

My entire body went rigid. He was awake.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "Alpha Adrien," I said softly, forcing calm into my voice, "I have duties this morning. The guest Alphas will be expecting their meals. I need to serve them, I need to get ready."

His grip tightened instead of loosening, pulling me closer until his breath brushed the side of my face. The sound of his voice dropped lower, threading through my ears and sending an unwanted shiver down my spine. "I don’t care," he murmured. "You serve only me and my brothers."

The words settled like chains around my shoulders. Any argument I had rehearsed dissolved instantly. There was no winning against him, not like this. I let my head sink forward, my shoulders slumping as defeat weighed me down. I closed my eyes, wishing I could be myself elsewhere, anywhere but there.

Then I felt his hand move.

My breath caught, my thoughts scattering. When he spoke again, the question was so sudden it froze me in place. "Maria," he said quietly, "have you ever been with a man?"

My heart slammed painfully against my chest. The question echoed in my mind, sharp and intrusive. Why would he ask that? What was he thinking? Fear curled tight in my stomach, twisting with confusion and dread.

Before I could form an answer, before I could even gather my thoughts, his presence pressed closer. The warmth of him surrounded me, overwhelming my senses. A shiver ran down my spine, unbidden, as panic and instinct collided inside me.

"Alpha Adrien... please," I whispered, the word breaking as it left my lips.

"Be quiet," he snapped, his tone sharper now, edged with impatience.

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears stinging as they gathered despite my efforts to hold them back. I felt trapped—by his authority, by the bed beneath me, by the silent weight of everything I couldn’t say. He was lost in his act, he trailed his lips down my back and moved his hand forward and grabbed my breasts, giving it a soft squeeze and in the midst of my tears, a broken sound escaped me.

My body reacted in ways I didn’t want, betraying me even as fear and shame tangled in my chest. A broken sound escaped me, half-sob, half-breath, and that was all it took.

He stopped.

The sudden absence of movement was almost jarring. In the next moment, he turned me to face him, his expression shifting as he noticed the tears streaking down my face.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. He pulled away abruptly, rising from the bed as though burned. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing once, then again, frustration radiating from him in sharp waves.

"You’re crying," he said, more to himself than to me.

Without another word, he turned back toward me, his voice raised now, rough and commanding. "Get out."

I didn’t hesitate. I scrambled off the bed, my hands shaking as I wiped at my face, smearing tears across my cheeks. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. I fled the room as fast as my legs would carry me, the sound of his words still ringing in my ears, my heart pounding as though it might shatter under the weight of everything I felt but could not say.

I was already halfway down the corridor, my steps hurried and uneven, my mind still tangled in everything I had just fled from, when I saw Noah ahead of me.

My heart lurched.

Instinct took over before reason could catch up. I veered slightly, lowering my head, hoping I could slip past without being noticed. After what happened the last time we spoke, after the things I hadn’t answered, the silence I had used as a shield, I was sure he wouldn’t even want to see me. The thought of facing his concern, his questions, felt heavier than the ache already sitting in my chest.

But fate, as always, refused to cooperate.

"Maria," his voice called out, surprised and unmistakable. "Is that you?"

Panic shot through me. I turned sharply, ready to bolt, my feet already moving before I could think better of it. I had almost made it around the corner when strong hands caught my shoulders, halting me mid-step.

"Maria, come on," Noah said, breathless but gentle, as he turned me to face him. "There’s no need to run from me."

His grip wasn’t rough, but it was firm enough to tell me he wasn’t letting me disappear this time. I stared at the ground, my lashes heavy with unshed emotion, when his voice softened.

"Please," he continued quietly, "don’t ever run from me. It breaks my..."

He stopped abruptly.

I felt it the moment he leaned closer, his brows drawing together as he inhaled. His body went still, and when he spoke again, his tone had changed, sharpened by confusion and something dangerously close to anger.

"Why do you smell like one of the quadruplets?" he asked. "Why do you have their scent on you?"

The world seemed to pause.

My breath caught in my throat, my heart hammering so loudly I was sure he could hear it. Slowly, unwillingly, I lifted my head. Our eyes met, his dark and searching, mine wide and frightened. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, whether it was suspicion, concern, or something far more complicated.

"What do you mean, Noah?" I heard myself ask, the words slipping out automatically, fragile and evasive.

His gaze didn’t leave my face. "Don’t do that," he said softly. "You know exactly what I mean."

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The corridor felt too narrow, the air too thick. Then he sighed, his shoulders easing just a fraction, as if he were choosing his next words carefully.

"Tell me the truth," he said. "Are you comfortable here?"

The question struck deeper than he probably realized.

Comfortable.

Images flashed through my mind, commands barked instead of spoken, orders disguised as care, hands that took without asking, words that stripped me of dignity piece by piece. Five more years, they had said. Five more years of repayment for a debt I never agreed to owe.

My chest tightened painfully.

Noah’s voice broke through my thoughts. "Because if you’re not," he continued, his grip loosening but not disappearing, "I’m willing to take you with me. After today’s celebration, after the Alphas are done with whatever gathering they’re planning... I can get you out of here."

There it was again.

That offer.

The same door he had cracked open before, now standing wider, tempting and terrifying all at once. My lips parted, the word yes hovering right there, so close it frightened me. I wanted to say it. Moon goddess, I wanted to say it so badly it hurt.

But the word felt heavy. Dangerous.

My mind betrayed me, pulling up Anabel’s face, the way her eyes lingered on Noah with quiet possessiveness, the unspoken claim in her posture whenever she stood near him. Leaving with Noah wouldn’t just be escape, it would be complication, conflict, another kind of storm.

I swallowed hard.

Noah watched me closely, his thumb brushing lightly against my shoulder as if to ground me. "You don’t have to answer right now," he said, though there was urgency beneath his calm. "But think about it, Maria. You deserve more than this. More than fear. More than silence."

My throat burned. I nodded faintly, though no sound came out.

He sighed again, softer this time, and stepped back just enough to give me space. "I’ll be around," he said. "When you’re ready."

As he turned to leave, my heart ached with the weight of everything I couldn’t say. I stood there long after he was gone, torn between the fragile hope he offered and the chains I was still too afraid to break.