Chapter four
1197 Words
Whispers in the palace
The first thing Aria noticed when her eyes fluttered open was the absence of pain. For the first time since Damien’s rejection, her chest wasn’t on fire. The ache lingered, dull and stubborn, but it wasn’t clawing at her the way it had before.
She blinked at the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the tall window. Heavy velvet curtains framed the light, embroidered with silver threads that shimmered faintly. The bed beneath her was impossibly soft, cocooning her in warmth. She shifted slowly, half-expecting her body to flare with agony, but only a faint soreness stretched across her limbs.
On the bedside table, the empty tray from the night before was gone. In its place sat a smaller platter with a crystal bowl of fruit, slices glistening with juice, and a steaming cup of broth. The smell reached her nose, rich and comforting.
This doesn’t feel like a prison, she thought, though a part of her still resisted the sense of safety.
“You should eat,” Liora murmured softly in her mind. Her wolf’s voice was steadier today, though it carried a weariness that mirrored Aria’s own. “He didn’t let us starve last night. Maybe he truly intends no harm.”
Aria sat up carefully, pressing her palm to her stomach as though steadying herself. “I don’t trust him,” she whispered under her breath.
“You don’t have to,” Liora replied gently. “But strength will return faster if you eat.”
With hesitant fingers, Aria picked up a slice of apple. The sweetness burst across her tongue, and she realized just how hungry she was. She ate in silence, each bite soothing something raw inside her.
Yet even as her body welcomed the food, her mind swirled. Damien’s sneer echoed in her head, his voice still sharp: I reject you, Aria You are nothing to me.
Her hand trembled. The fruit slipped from her fingers and fell back into the bowl. She shut her eyes tightly, breathing through the wave of shame that rose in her chest.
“He is not here,” Liora whispered firmly. “He cannot touch you anymore.”
Aria nodded faintly, though her throat was tight.
---
A soft knock broke through her thoughts. Her head jerked up. The door creaked open, revealing a young maid in a pale blue uniform, her eyes lowered to the floor. She moved silently, collecting the tray without a word. Aria opened her mouth to thank her, but the girl avoided her gaze completely and scurried out, the door shutting quickly behind her.
Aria frowned. She couldn’t even look at me… why?
Unease coiled in her chest. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, the cool marble floor kissing her bare feet. Her body protested faintly, but she pushed through, rising slowly.
The palace was silent when she eased the door open. Wide hallways stretched in both directions, lined with tall windows and flickering torches that glowed even in daylight. The air smelled faintly of polished wood and something sharper—like rain on stone.
Her steps were cautious as she wandered. Every so often, she caught sight of servants moving quickly down the corridors, their heads bowed, their whispers carried faintly through the air.
“…the Alpha brought her here…”
“…doesn’t belong among us…”
Aria stiffened, straining to hear, but the voices always hushed the moment she drew near. The servants bowed—not to her, but to some unseen authority she felt pressing through the walls.
“They fear him,” Liora observed quietly. “Not you. Him.”
Aria swallowed. Then who exactly is Kael?
---
She didn’t get far before a deep voice cut across the silence.
“I told you not to wander.”
Her heart lurched. She spun around. Kael stood at the end of the corridor, dressed in a dark tunic that clung to his broad frame. His silver eyes gleamed under the torchlight, sharp as moonlight cutting through fog.
Heat rushed to her cheeks—whether from fear or something else, she couldn’t tell. “I wasn’t—” She faltered, knowing the lie would taste thin. “I was just… looking.”
Kael approached slowly, his steps measured, predatory. He stopped only a few feet away, towering over her. “This palace is not as safe as it looks,” he said, voice low. “There are those who question why you are here.”
Her breath caught. The whispers she’d heard earlier made sense now.
“Then why did you bring me here?” she asked, her voice trembling despite her effort to keep it steady.
Kael’s gaze lingered on her, unreadable. For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he murmured, “Because you needed saving.”
Her chest tightened. She wanted to scoff, to deny it, but deep down she knew it was true. She had been dying. Without him, she wouldn’t be standing here.
Still, his words only deepened the mystery. “Saving… for what purpose?”
His lips curved faintly—not a smile, but something shadowed. “That, little wolf, is yet to be seen.”
---
He turned, gesturing for her to follow. Aria hesitated, then trailed after him. They walked through wide halls adorned with paintings of wolves, battles, and moonscapes that seemed older than time. Aria’s fingers itched to touch the frames, to ask about them, but she kept silent.
Kael led her to a balcony overlooking the training grounds. Warriors moved below, sparring with precision and ferocity. Their bodies glistened with sweat, their movements sharp as blades.
Aria leaned against the railing, her throat dry. She had grown up among warriors, but these men were different—harder, stronger, disciplined in ways her old pack never managed.
“They don’t know you,” Kael said quietly beside her. “They don’t trust easily.”
“Neither do I,” she whispered before she could stop herself.
His eyes flicked to her, a glint of something unreadable sparking within them. “Good.”
---
That night, Aria lay in the massive bed again, staring at the ceiling. Shadows danced across the walls from the torches outside. Despite her exhaustion, sleep didn’t come easily.
Her thoughts tangled with fragments of Damien, Kael’s cryptic words, the servants’ whispers. Every part of her wanted answers, but fear kept her from demanding them.
“We are not safe here,” Liora warned, her voice hushed in the quiet of Aria’s mind. “But maybe… safer than where we came from.”
Aria exhaled shakily. “For how long, though?”
Silence answered.
---
A sound jolted her.
Footsteps. Slow, deliberate, just outside her door.
She froze, heart hammering. The footsteps stopped.
Then a whisper, muffled but clear enough to send ice down her spine: “Why is she here?”
Aria’s blood turned cold. She clutched the blanket tighter, her pulse racing. For a long moment, silence pressed against the door. Then the footsteps faded away into nothingness.
Aria lay trembling in the darkness, the words echoing in her mind.
Why am I here?
- Writer
