Undercover Mate For The Alpha Twins

Lost

_Kaelith’s POV_

The next morning came fast.

I stood in front of the cracked mirror in the hallway, staring at myself. Short hair? Check. Loose hoodie? Check. Tight chest wrap? Very uncomfortable, but check. I didn’t look like a girl anymore, not really. Not unless someone looked very closely. And no one would.

I had to keep telling myself that.

“You can do this,” I whispered. “Just one month. Keep your head down. Act tough and don’t smile too much.”

Downstairs, Eryx honked the horn like a maniac.

“Coming!” I shouted, grabbing my old backpack. It held exactly two shirts, a pair of jeans, a hoodie, and my toolbox. That’s all I had because that’s all I needed.

Sable didn’t say goodbye when I left. She probably didn’t even know I was going. Or maybe she didn’t care.

I climbed into Eryx’s rusty truck, he looked me up and down with a proud grin. “You look great, like a total dude.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “Exactly the vibe I’m going for.”

We left my house and headed straight for the BlackThorn Packhouse at the outskirts of town.

When we arrived, Eryx stopped at the entrance and I got down first.

The Blackthorn Packhouse was bigger than I imagined.

No, scratch that. It was huge. Massive like a freaking castle.

From the outside, I had only seen the walls and the big iron gates. But standing inside the actual building now, I felt like a tiny dust bunny lost inside a mansion filled with royalty.

And I was dressed like a boy. A broke, dusty, suspicious-looking boy.

“Deep breaths,” I whispered to myself as I adjusted the loose cap covering my short hair. The bandages I wrapped around my chest felt tight, but I needed to keep everything hidden. I even deepened my voice when I walked past the guards and greeted them a while ago.

Now here I was, alone in the main hallway, trying to figure out where the hell the renovation team was meeting.

Eryx was also nowhere to be seen. Or maybe I left him.

I looked around, the hallway was decorated with dark shiny wood, golden wall lamps, and smooth marble floors that made my old sneakers squeak loudly every time I took a step. “Shut up,” I whispered to my shoes. “We’re trying to survive.”

As I turned a corner, I nearly crashed into someone.

“Oh! Sorry—” I looked up and saw a maid. A very pretty maid. She blinked, her eyes wide and her cheeks suddenly going pink as she stepped back quickly and dropped the basket of folded towels she was holding.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

But she didn't respond. She just stared and blushed harder.

Was she okay? Why was her face so red?

“Uhh… do you know where the renovation team is supposed to meet?” I asked again, trying to be polite while also asking for information.

She nodded quickly, then turned and ran in the opposite direction without saying a single word.

I stood there, blinking in confusion. What the actual hell just happened?

I picked up one of her towels and placed it on a nearby table. “That was weird.”

But it eventually got weirder. Because the next hallway had two more maids… and they both blushed too. One even dropped her clipboard and tripped over her own feet trying to walk past me.

“Am I cursed?” I muttered, scratching my head. “Do I smell weird?”

I sniffed myself. Although I didn’t smell like roses, but my smell wasn’t that bad.

Trying to shake it off, I wandered down another hallway, then another. At this point, I was officially lost. The place was a maze. Every hallway looked the same, endless doors, floors, and zero signs.

I passed a tall mirror and paused. There I was, with short hair tucked under a cap, a too-big jacket covering my chest, and torn jeans over boots that definitely didn’t belong in a fancy place like this.

But somehow… I looked like a dude.

A skinny, awkward dude with tired eyes.

“No wonder the maids are confused,” I muttered with a dry laugh. “They probably think I’m a new guard or something.”

A sudden sound made me jump. I turned and saw another maid walking toward me, holding a tray with a fancy glass of juice. She looked up, froze, and her cheeks went red again.

I swear on the moon goddess, she looked like she was about to faint.

“Wait! Please—can you just tell me where the workers are?” I asked quickly before she could vanish.

She pointed vaguely down the hall. “Uh… basement wing… that way. Through the east stairs… I think.”

“Thanks,” I said, even though that was the most confusing direction I’d ever heard.

I turned and followed what I thought she meant, ending up at a small side stairwell. I tiptoed down, trying not to trip. I hated stairs. They hated me too.

Down one level. Then another. I kept walking until the hallway grew quieter. A little too quiet. The atmosphere felt cooler here, and there were no maids in sight. Just a hefty wooden door slightly open at the end.

Curious, and totally off track, I pushed the door gently.

It opened with a rasp.

The room inside was huge and had high ceilings. There were shelves lined with scrolls, maps, and books. Weapons too, lots of them. Swords, spears, daggers.

I definitely wasn’t supposed to be here. And what were these old things still doing here in this modern age?

I took a step inside. It looked like a war room from the 90s or some kind of strategic place the alphas would use for meetings.

As I walked in further, my foot caught on a rug and I fell flat on my face.

The loudest thud echoed through the room and I groaned, rolling onto my back. My cap fell off, and a few strands of my real hair slipped free.

Just then, I heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

Fear crawled up my spine and I did the first thing that came to my mind—hide.

I grabbed my cap and found a cupboard meant for swords and slipped in, covering my mouth with my hands to avoid making a sound, or burping or anything dumb.

I heard the door open and I held my breath.

Footsteps clicked softly into the room, slow and deliberate, like the person walking had no need to rush for anyone.

I risked a peek from behind the stack of rolled-up maps and froze.

The man who walked in didn’t look wild or loud or reckless like I’d expected from a warrior in a place like this.

He looked… dangerous in a quiet way.

He wore black, tailored black office pants and a buttoned black shirt with the sleeves neatly rolled to the elbows. Not a single wrinkle on him. Every line was crisp and every move exact. Like his entire life was pressed, ironed, and filed into alphabetical folders.

His hair was dark and slicked back, not a strand out of place. His jaw was sharp too and shaven, But it was his scar that drew my eyes. Thin and pale, cutting through his left brow and continuing just barely down the side of his eye.

It didn’t make him look ugly.

No, that was the problem.

He looked like he belonged on a magazine cover. One of those serious models that never smiled and made eye contact through the page.

Beautiful, but scary.

And he had no tattoos. No messy ink or wild energy.

Just… icy.

If tattoos screamed “danger,” this guy whispered it.

Who was he?

My stomach dropped when he stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind him with a click. It sounded final. Like the end of a game he’d been playing.

He didn’t speak at first. He also didn't glance around.

Just pulled out his phone, read something on the screen, then sighed quietly like the entire world was a personal disappointment.

Then he said it.

In a flat, zero effort tone that sent shivers down my spine. “Whoever you are, come out. Right now. I know you’re hiding here.”

I almost passed out.