AMAYA
The household feels different this morning.
Even before I leave the servants’ quarters, I hear the whispers, hushed voices talking about how Alpha Darian is in “one of his moods.” I keep my head down, letting the gossip slide past me. The last thing I need is to be caught listening.
My wolf paces inside me as I move through the corridors with a tray of linens. It doesn’t like the sharp energy humming through the house, the tension that seems to cling to the walls like smoke.
I’m halfway down the upper hall when I feel it, that prickling awareness along the back of my neck. I glance up just in time to see Lucian leaning against the balcony rail on the next floor, arms folded, watching me.
He doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t look away either.
I tear my gaze down and keep walking. I
