CHAPTER TWO — THE WELCOME I DIDN'T GET
1356 Words
"That's her? She's smaller than I expected."
The voice was meant to reach me. It did.
I had walked into the main hall for breakfast — Sera had given me the time, shown me the route, made sure I knew exactly where to go. I had done everything right.
And still, three women seated near the window turned and looked at me the way you look at something you are about to step over.
The one who had spoken was stunning. That was the honest word for it. Tall, with light hair swept back from a face that seemed designed to be looked at. She wore Silverstone's colors like she had been born in them — and the way the other two women leaned slightly toward her told me everything about who she was in this room.
I kept walking. Found a seat at the far end of the long table. Reached for bread.
"She doesn't look like a Luna," one of the others said. Also loud enough.
I tore the bread and ate it.
"She's not a Luna," the tall one said. She picked up her cup without looking at me. "She's a payment."
I set my bread down.
I had two options. I had run through them in my head in the ten steps between the door and this chair, because I had known, with absolute certainty, that something like this was coming.
Option one: say nothing. Survive the meal. Stay small.
Option two: say something. Establish — from the very first morning — that staying small was not something I had come here to do.
I looked up.
"A payment," I said clearly. "That's interesting. Because the contract I signed makes me the Alpha's legal mate. Which, if I remember correctly, makes me the Luna of this pack." I tilted my head. "What does that make you?"
Silence.
The tall woman's eyes came to me slowly. Up close — she had turned now, fully — they were pale green and very cold.
"I'm Lena Cross," she said. "And you are no one's Luna yet."
"Lena," I said. "Got it."
I picked up my bread and continued eating.
She stared at me for a moment longer. Then she turned back to her companions, and they resumed their quiet conversation, and the meal went on.
My hands were steady. That was what I focused on. Steady hands.
Underneath the table, I pressed my nails into my palm so hard I left small crescents in my skin.
Sera found me after breakfast on the stone steps outside the east entrance.
I was sitting with my back against the wall, face tilted up at the sky — pale grey, the sun refusing to commit to appearing — and breathing like someone who had recently decided not to fall apart.
She sat beside me without invitation.
"Lena Cross," she said, "has been planning to be this pack's Luna for four years."
"That sounds like a her problem," I said.
"She makes things other people's problems." Sera pulled her jacket closer. "She is the Beta's cousin, which means Marcus Vane protects her, which means she has reach here that goes beyond just being pretty and mean."
Marcus Vane. I filed the name.
"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.
Sera looked at the sky. "Because you talked back to her at breakfast instead of shrinking, and now she will be thinking about you all day." A pause. "I've been in this estate three years. I've seen five women brought in and broken down within a week. I'm telling you because you didn't look like you were going to break, and I'd like to see how it plays out."
I looked at her sideways. "That's almost a compliment."
"It's data," she said.
We sat there for a moment in the cold.
"Kade," I said carefully. "Does he know what she's like? Lena?"
Sera was quiet for slightly too long. "He grew up with her. Their families were close. He's not blind." She paused again. "But there's a difference between knowing someone's sharp and knowing which direction they'll cut."
I nodded slowly.
He was smart. I had read that in thirty seconds of eye contact. But smart didn't mean he saw everything.
That was something I would need to remember.
The summons came that afternoon.
A knock on my door. One of the guards — not the same two from last night, a different one, younger — with a folded note.
My office. Third floor. 3PM. — K.B.
Short. Cold. No please.
I looked at it for a moment.
Then I folded it back up, tucked it in my pocket, and went.
His office was easier to find than his map room. Someone — probably Sera — had left a small mark in chalk at each corridor turn, barely visible unless you knew to look. I followed them up two flights of stone steps and knocked on the correct door.
"Come in."
He was seated this time. Behind a desk that was buried in documents and reports, but in a way that suggested organized chaos — like he knew exactly where everything was even if no one else could tell. He didn't look up immediately.
I stepped inside and stood.
He read for another fifteen seconds — I counted — and then he looked up.
Those grey eyes again. Flat. Assessing.
"Sit," he said.
There was one chair across from him. I sat.
"How was your first night?" he asked. He said it the way someone asks about weather. Polite enough, but not interested in the answer.
"Fine," I said.
"Good." He folded his hands on the desk. "I want to establish clarity between us. This arrangement is a political necessity. I don't expect more from you than presence at formal events and cooperation with pack expectations. Your rooms and needs will be provided for. In return, I expect no disruption."
I looked at him.
"No disruption," I repeated.
"Correct."
"And what counts as disruption?"
He blinked once — slight, barely there. "I think you'll find the definition straightforward."
"I find most things that are meant to limit me come with very broad definitions," I said. "So I'm asking specifically."
He looked at me for a long moment.
I did not look away.
Something moved in his expression — not warmth, not irritation. Closer to recalibration. Like he had been handed a problem he hadn't quite calculated for.
"Don't cause scenes," he said finally. "Don't interfere with pack affairs. Don't embarrass this house."
"I'll do my best on all three," I said pleasantly. "I'd like to know where I'm permitted to walk in this estate. I got lost this morning."
"I'll have a map sent to your room."
"Thank you."
He looked like he wanted to say something else. He didn't.
I stood, because it seemed like we were finished. "Was there anything else, Alpha?"
He looked at my face. Just for a moment. Like he was checking something.
"No," he said.
I nodded and left.
In the corridor outside, I pressed my back against the wall and breathed.
He was going to be difficult. Not in a loud way. In the quiet, immovable, grey-eyed way that was somehow harder to push against.
But I had pushed.
And he hadn't shut it down.
That was something.
I walked back toward my room, and I did not let myself think about the way he had looked at my face at the end. Checking something. Like he was trying to figure out what, exactly, he was dealing with.
Good, I thought. Wonder about me, Kade Blackthorn. I've got nothing left to lose, and that makes me the most unpredictable thing in your stone house.
I turned the final corner toward my room and almost collided with Marcus Vane.
He was tall. Handsome in a way that made you notice, then made you nervous. Dark eyes. A smile that arrived one full second before it reached anywhere real.
He looked at me with that smile and said, "So you're the girl they sent us."
And something in my stomach went very, very still.
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