Rescuing my Human Lover: She is a Fighter

Chapter Two

LYRA

"What are you doing in my room?"

I stared at the tall figure in the doorway, my entire body frozen in place like prey caught in the gaze of a predator. My hand instinctively moved to cover the torn part of my dress while blood continued to seep from the cut on my neck.

The man stepped fully into the room, and I finally saw him clearly. He was impossibly tall with broad shoulders that filled the doorframe. His jaw was strong and defined; his features were sharp yet oddly beautiful in their severity. He was the embodiment of perfection. But it was his eyes that truly captured my attention. They were piercing amber-gold that seemed to see through my weak defenses.

For a moment, I forgot he was a werewolf. I almost caught myself admiring his appearance until reality crashed back.

Werewolf equals danger! The realization was a splash of icy water. I instinctively scrambled backward. This must be one of the Silverfang guests, I realized with mounting dread. Another powerful wolf who would likely punish me for being in his quarters.

I had not heard him enter. My mind raced for an explanation that would not result in more pain. "I... I was preparing your room, sir," I stammered. "Alpha Lucian ordered me to make it ready for your arrival."

He said nothing, only stared at me with deceptive calm.

"I have finished my duties," I said quickly. "I will leave immediately."

I bent to pick up the knife I had dropped, intending to hide it again, but his voice stopped me.

"Leave it."

I froze with my fingers hovering above the blade. He would certainly punish me for possessing a weapon.

"I was not..." I began, but my voice trailed off. There was no explanation that would save me.

To my surprise, he did not move toward me. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small glass bottle. Without warning, he tossed it to me. I caught it reflexively, surprised by my own coordination.

"Put that on your neck," he said, nodding toward the cut. "And clean yourself up."

I stared at the bottle in my hand, then back at him. Was this some kind of trick? In twelve years, no werewolf had ever shown me kindness without ulterior motives.

"Why?" I asked before I could stop myself.

His expression remained unreadable. "Because you are bleeding on my floor."

He turned and walked to the door, pausing at the threshold. "I will be back in an hour. Make sure you are not here when I return."

And then he was gone, leaving me alone with the bottle of ointment and my confusion.

I unscrewed the cap with trembling fingers and sniffed the contents. It smelled herbal and medicinal. Cautiously, I dabbed a small amount on my cut, wincing at the initial sting before a cooling sensation spread across my skin.

I found a small mirror on the dresser and examined my reflection. The bleeding had already slowed. The ointment was effective, far better than anything I had access to in the servants' quarters.

Who was this wolf? And why help me? The questions spun in my mind, but I quickly pushed them away. Kindness was rare and dangerous. It created hope, and hope was the most painful emotion for someone in my position.

I pocketed the ointment—a small treasure that might save me pain later—and hurried from the room. Survival required focus, not dwelling on moments of unexpected mercy.

"You. Human." One of Alpha's guards found me in the hallway. "You are needed to serve at the banquet. Now."

I followed him silently to the kitchens, where I was thrust into a clean serving outfit and given hasty instructions. The head cook, Ms. Carol, a stern werewolf woman who took some small pity on me occasionally, thrust a tray of wine glasses into my hands.

"Do not drop these," she warned. "And do not speak unless spoken to."

The grand hall buzzed with activity. Werewolves from both packs mingled, dressed in formal attire that did nothing to disguise their predatory nature. The scent of roasted meat and rich wine filled the air, along with the underlying musk of werewolf that I had come to associate with danger. My stomach grumbled, reminding me of my hunger.

Eighteen and hungry.

Alpha Lucian sat at the head table with his Luna beside him in a silver gown that contrasted with her dark hair. Nathan lounged in a chair with two girls flanking him. His gaze found me immediately as I entered with the wine tray. His eyes narrowed, and his lips curled into a smirk that promised retribution later.

I kept my head down, moving carefully between tables as I offered wine to the guests. Every time a werewolf took a glass from my tray, I braced myself for a grope or a slap, but most were too engrossed in conversation to bother with a human servant.

"A toast!" Alpha Lucian stood, raising his glass. "To our continued alliance with the Silverfang Pack and to their esteemed Alpha, Kael Wolfe!"

The room erupted in cheers as all eyes turned to a figure at the other end of the hall. I followed their gaze and felt my stomach drop. It was him, the werewolf from the room. The one who had given me the ointment.

Alpha Kael Wolfe raised his glass in acknowledgment, his expression stoic as he surveyed the room. His eyes briefly passed over me before moving on, showing no recognition.

Nathan beckoned over to me. I went over to serve him. As I bent to drop the tray, Nathan’s hand slid into my skirt and he pinched my thigh.

"I wonder if you taste as sweet as the wine you are pouring," he muttered in my ear.

My hands trembled and I spilled some wine.

"Careful with those trembling hands, girl. I like my wine in the glass, but I would prefer you... spilling across my sheets." He pinched me again and I shut my eyes. "Serve me something stronger later in my chambers, little pet." Then, he let me go.

I turned quickly, eager to escape him, but as I did, I collided with someone. The tray tilted, and before I could steady it, wine glasses tumbled forward, and their contents splashed across an expensive-looking suit.

I looked up in horror to see Alpha Kael Wolfe standing before me, his previously pristine white suit now stained crimson. All the air left my lungs.

The entire room fell silent.

Kill me now, please.

"Clumsy human," someone muttered, followed by snickers and whispers that spread through the hall like wildfire.

"Always causing trouble," another voice added.

I dropped to my knees, frantically trying to clean the spill with the small cloth I carried, though I knew it was futile. My hands shook violently as I dabbed at the stain, making it worse.

"Enough." Alpha Kael's voice was low but carried through the silence.

I froze, not daring to look up. This was it. Whatever small mercy he had shown earlier would surely be forgotten now. I had humiliated him in front of both packs.

"Stand up."

I obeyed, keeping my eyes fixed on the floor. The weight of dozens of predatory gazes pressed down on me.

"I apologize for this disgraceful incident, Alpha Kael." Alpha Lucian's cold voice cut through the murmurs. He approached us, his face a mask of diplomatic concern. "This human has been nothing but trouble since she arrived in our pack."

I flinched at his words, knowing what followed criticism was always punishment.

"Alpha Kael, let me make amends for this human's incompetence," Alpha Lucian continued. "I offer her to you as a gift. Perhaps your pack can find better use for her... or at least teach her proper respect."

Gasps and whispers erupted around us. Some werewolves laughed outright. I heard someone whisper, "Getting rid of the defective property, finally."

My blood turned to ice in my veins. Just like that, I found myself tossed from one ruthless Alpha into the hands of another. Being given away like an unwanted object was not uncommon—I had been traded between families in the Shadowmoon Pack before—but being sent to an entirely different pack? To wolves I did not know, whose cruelties I had not learned to anticipate?