Maria.

I slipped into my room quietly, my body begging for even a moment of rest. The door closed behind me with a soft click, and only then did I allow myself to breathe properly. As my eyes drifted around the room, a strange detail caught my attention almost immediately, the other bed was untouched.

Galen’s bed was nearly as neat as it had been earlier, the sheets barely disturbed, the pillow uncreased. She hadn’t slept here. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

The realization settled slowly. It was surprising... and yet, not entirely. Galen had been acting strange for days now, coming in late, leaving early, her eyes always guarded, her movements tense. Still, seeing the physical proof of her absence made something uneasy twist in my chest.

I didn’t have the strength to dwell on it.

I lowered myself onto my own bed and rested my head against the thin pillow, my eyes closing almost instantly. My body ached in places I didn’t want to think about, my limbs heavy, my cheek still tender and slightly swollen, my heart exhausted from carrying too much fear for too long. I told myself I would only rest for a few minutes. Just enough to gather myself.

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes when a knock echoed against the door.

My eyes flew open.

For a brief, foolish second, I thought it might be Galen. That hope vanished the moment I pushed myself upright and opened the door to see a guard standing there instead.

Panic crawled up my spine.

A thousand thoughts rushed through my mind all at once. Had I missed a duty? Breakfast—there was still breakfast to serve the guest Alphas. The gathering preparations were ongoing. I wasn’t supposed to be resting. My body throbbed in protest, my head pulsing dully, but none of that mattered here. Rest was a luxury I couldn’t afford.

I swallowed hard, bracing myself.

Before I could speak, the guard straightened and delivered his message in

a flat, practiced tone.

"Rogue 456, Alpha Aidan has ordered for you to serve him personally at the Alpha’s gathering this evening. You are also to be in his room two hours before the gathering commences."

The words landed heavily, one after the other, each one tightening something around my chest.

Personally.

His room.

Two hours before.

I didn’t trust my voice to respond, so I simply nodded, a small, stiff motion to show I had heard and understood. The guard didn’t linger. He turned and walked away as if he hadn’t just altered the course of my evening, perhaps more than that.

The door closed.

My legs gave out.

I sank slowly to the floor, my back against the door, my breath uneven as the reality of the command settled in. The Alpha’s gathering. The very gathering meant to celebrate their engagement with Vanessa. The thought alone made my stomach churn.

Why would he want me there?

Why would Alpha Aidan summon me to his room on a night like that?

A cold shiver slid down my spine, my arms tightening around myself as if that could shield me from what was coming. My mind raced through every possible reason, every possible outcome, none of them comforting. His room wasn’t a place of safety. It never had been.

I lowered my head, staring blankly at the floor as dread wrapped itself around my heart. Tonight wasn’t going to be simple. It wasn’t going to be quiet.

And whatever awaited me behind that door later, I already knew one thing for certain, I was afraid.

I gathered myself together, forcing my thoughts into order, and went to have my bath. The warm water soothed my aching body, easing the stiffness in my limbs, though it did little to calm the restlessness churning inside me. When I was done, I dressed quickly and headed straight to the kitchen. No matter how heavy my body felt, duty waited for no one. It was time to serve breakfast.

The kitchen was already alive with quiet movement and clinking dishes. I pushed my trolley forward, the wheels creaking softly as I collected Darren’s meal first, then Noah’s, arranging everything neatly the way it was expected of me. My hands moved on instinct, my mind drifting even as my body remembered every step of this routine.

With the trolley before me, I left the kitchen and made my way down the corridor. Darren’s room was closer, so I went there first. I knocked lightly on the door, waited, then knocked again. There was no response. Thinking they weren’t inside, I pushed the door open and stepped in.

The sight that greeted me made me freeze for a brief second.

Darren and Patricia were tangled together on the bed, bare skin against bare skin, limbs entwined without shame or care. The room smelled faintly of sleep and intimacy. I immediately averted my gaze, my eyes snapping away as heat crept up my neck. I hadn’t meant to see that. I never wanted to see that.

Yet in that split second before I looked away, I caught Darren’s expression. His eyes were wide, his face caught in that awkward mask that screamed it’s not what you think, as though any explanation could undo what was already obvious.

I scoffed inwardly. There was nothing to misunderstand.

Without a word, I moved forward, placed their food carefully on the table by the wall, and turned around. I didn’t wait for apologies or excuses. I wasn’t in the mood for drama, and I certainly didn’t have the energy to play witness to anyone’s guilt or embarrassment. All I wanted was to finish my duties and rest.

I left the room quietly and pushed my trolley down the corridor again, stopping in front of Noah’s door. I knocked once.

The door opened immediately, as if he had been standing right behind it, waiting. He looked at me with a calm expression that made my chest tighten. What had happened in the early hours of that morning lingered between us like an unspoken secret, heavy and uncomfortable. It was something I had no intention of talking about.

And as though he could hear my thoughts, Noah’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile.

"Thank you, Maria. Please, come in," he said, stepping aside and gesturing with his hand.

I hesitated for only a heartbeat before entering. I wheeled the trolley in, placed his meal neatly on the table, and turned to leave immediately. I had done my job. There was no reason to linger.

"Maria," he called.

My name stopped me in my tracks.

I stood there, torn between opening the door and walking out or turning around to face him. My heart pounded as I weighed my options. Leaving felt safer. Staying felt dangerous. After a moment that stretched far too long, I slowly turned back.

Noah was suddenly close—too close.

He was only a few inches away, so near that I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin. Instinctively, I took a step back. He followed, closing the distance again. My pulse raced as I took another step, and once more, he matched it, never breaking eye contact.

Step by step, he advanced and I retreated, until my back hit the door with a soft thud. There was nowhere else to go. My hands curled at my sides, my breath shallow, my senses painfully aware of how close he was.

The room felt smaller, the air thicker. I was trapped between the door and his presence, my heart hammering as I waited, uncertain of what he would do next, and even more uncertain of how I would react.

From the look on his face, I knew he wasn’t himself anymore. The calm composure he usually carried had shattered, replaced by something raw and unrestrained. His jaw was tight, his eyes darker, stormier. I noticed the way his fists clenched at his sides, fingers curling into his palms as though he was trying to hold himself back, fighting something deep within him—an urge, an obsession, a battle he was clearly losing.

He took a sharp breath, and before I could fully understand what was happening, his hands were on me. He grabbed my waist firmly, pulling me closer to him, leaving no space between our bodies. The strength behind his grip wasn’t entirely his own; I could feel it, his wolf lending him power. In a swift, almost dizzying movement, I was laid flat on the bed, the mattress dipping beneath my weight as he loomed over me.

My heart began to pound so loudly I was certain he could hear it. Each beat echoed in my ears, wild and frantic. I lay there, frozen, still caught in his gaze, searching his eyes desperately, hoping to find something familiar, regret, restraint, affection, anything that would tell me what he was feeling.

But I couldn’t.

There was nothing I could read there, no emotion I could name, only intensity that left me breathless.

In the next still second, he claimed my lips. The kiss was sudden and hungry, stealing the air from my lungs. Shock overwhelmed me, my senses reeling as his mouth pressed against mine, warm and insistent. I could taste him, feel the urgency behind the kiss, and it sent a strange tremor through my body.

Somewhere between the press of his lips and the way his breath mingled with mine, I heard him murmur, almost like a plea, "Forgive me, Maria." And then the kiss deepened.

He devoured my lips with an unrestrained hunger, as though he was afraid to stop, as though stopping would break him. His mouth moved against mine with desperate intensity, seeking more, demanding more. His fingers traced slowly along my thigh, the touch deliberate, sending shivers up my spine.

I wanted to resist. I truly did. I wanted to push him away, to tell him no, to remind both of us of the line we were crossing. My lips parted, the word hovering on the edge of my tongue.

But then a foolish thought crept into my mind, soft and dangerous.

I would rather give myself to someone who loves me than to someone who doesn’t.

That thought unraveled what little resistance I had left.

I let go. I released myself to the moment and allowed him to devour my lips. I kissed him back, tentatively at first, then with growing urgency. I surprised myself, shocked by how naturally my body responded, how easily desire took control. Passion clouded my senses, drowning out reason, and for those few seconds, I truly surrendered to him.

Then, just as suddenly, it ended.

He pulled away abruptly, breathless and panting, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He stared at me for a fleeting moment before straightening, stepping back as though burned by his own actions. He stood up immediately, running a hand through his hair, his expression now filled with turmoil.

"I am sorry, Maria. I shouldn’t have done that. Please don’t hate me," he said, his voice low and strained.

And before I could respond, before I could even gather my thoughts, he turned and left the room in a hurry, the door closing behind him.

My heart ached, heavy and confused. I remained there on the bed, unmoving, staring at nothing, completely lost.