The connecting door stayed open.
I lay in bed, staring at the dark gap between my room and his, and every muscle in my body went tight. I had tried to sleep, and I had failed.
My mind kept circling back to the same images: his green eyes in the doorway, the calm way he had threatened to execute me, the feel of his fingers brushing my hair like it was the most natural thing in the world. My body refused to relax. Every small sound in the castle — a distant footstep, the low hum of the ventilation system running through the walls, the faint click of something electronic somewhere down the corridor — made my heart jump.
I kept one hand on my stomach. The baby had been quiet all day. I didn't know if that was normal or if the exhaustion and fear were affecting it. I rubbed slow circles over the small swell, whispering silent prayers to the goddess. Keep my child safe. Just keep us both safe.
Studying the room without meaning to, I noted the window, the main door, and the connecting door I couldn't close. If something happened, if he came back through that gap with different intentions than hair-brushing and threats, I had absolutely nothing. All I had was my own body and whatever instinct that had kept me alive this far.
Eventually, exhaustion won.
My body simply gave out, dragging me under, whether my mind wanted to stay awake or not.
Harsh sunlight hit my face.
I jerked awake, eyes squeezing shut against the brightness pouring through the window. For one disoriented second, I didn't know where I was. Then memory crashed back, the square, the execution, Xena, Alpha Dimitri, and the open door. I sat up fast, heart already racing, one hand automatically going to my stomach.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
I froze.
The knock came again, gentler. "Miss? You need to wake up now," a soft, feminine voice called out.
I jumped, forcing myself to sit upright, and that was when I saw her. A woman who appeared to be in her late forties stood by the side of the connecting door, with her hand still hovering over it as though she were getting ready to knock on the open door once more.
Her greying hair was pulled back in a neat bun. She wore a practical dark uniform with sensible shoes made for long hours on hard floors—one of the maids who tended the Alpha's chambers, by the look of her. The Alpha’s personal maids back in Ironclaw had uniforms similar to hers.
"It's almost noon," she said, lowering her voice, glancing once over her shoulder toward his side of the room like she didn't want to be overheard.
Noon.
I stared at her, my brain still catching up. I had slept through the entire morning. Panic spiked through my chest. "I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I was just— I was so tired. The last few days have been—"
"There's no room to be tired in Bloodfang,” she stated plainly. "Not if you want to stay alive. They will not care that the Alpha spared you once. If you think that buys you grace, it doesn't. Act wrong, even once, and you'll face execution again, and this time there may be no one coming to stop it."
The hairs on my neck rose. I thought of Alpha Dimitri's voice the night before, saying the same word three separate times. Execute. My body went cold all over again.
I got to my feet fully. "What do I need to do?"
A ghost of a smile crossed her face. "Get washed. Clean your room. Get to your duties." She paused. "I don't know what those duties are exactly, child, but I promise you, lying in bed all day isn't one of them."
"I'm sorry," I said again. "I really was just tired."
"There's no room to be tired here," she repeated, gentler this time. "Wash up. I have to go join the others to clean."
"Thank you," I said, the word coming out more fervent than I meant it to. "I don't even know your name."
"Vivienne." She was already moving toward the door.
"Scarlett," I said. "Scarlett Bane."
She nodded once, like the name didn't matter to her either way, and let herself out.
"Thank you," I called after her, before she crossed over Alpha Dimitri’s side.
I stood alone for a moment, smiling despite everything—a friendly face, in a place that had given me almost none. Xena was somewhere in the outer territories, out of reach, and this woman, brief and brisk as she'd been, was the closest thing to kindness I'd found since. I hoped, foolishly, that I would see her again.
I moved toward the small bathroom.
The plumbing was modern, clean, and ordinary. The running water felt like a small mercy after everything. I washed quickly, dressed in the simple clothes I had managed to pack during our escape. For the day, I picked a soft cotton shirt, dark pants, and nothing that stood out. The scarf went high around my neck, hiding the ruined skin beneath it.
I couldn't stay in this room all day, no matter what title I had been given. I had a task from the Alpha himself, yes, but I also knew that I couldn't simply vanish from the healers' wing either. Also, if I wanted to research anything at all, I knew I would have to start there.
The castle felt different in daylight. The corridors were wide and well-lit by modern fixtures recessed into the stonework. People moved briskly, with staff in uniforms, warriors in dark tactical clothing, and the occasional healer in white coats carrying tablets and medical supplies, all as if on a tight schedule.
I kept my head down but my steps steady. Scarlett Bane. I repeated the name with every step.
The healers' wing smelled of herbs and antiseptic. The moment I stepped inside, the stares sharpened. Healers paused mid-conversation, and their eyes tracked me. I kept moving until I found Ms. Darkmoon.
She turned at my approach, her expression already sour.
"Almost noon," she commented, the words dripping with contempt. "The Alpha's personal healer has finally decided to grace us with her presence."
"I'm sorry. I overslept." I straightened, trying to sound steadier than I felt. "I'm not used to—"
"Stop." She cut me off before I could finish. "Stop acting like you're some Luna who can sleep through the day because someone decided to spare your neck."
Hearing her compare me to a Luna almost made me laugh. When I actually was a Luna, I had never once slept past dawn. I could not afford such a mistake with Lucan in the house. Not when I had to constantly guess what mood he was in.
I straightened my back and forced all thoughts of the past away.
"I'm sorry," I tried again. "I just—"
She didn't let me finish that either. She shoved a list into my hands. "Herbs. Specific ones. You will fetch them from the supply house in the eastern quarter." She pressed a small pouch of cash into my palm. "I have calculated the exact amount. Do not even think about taking so much as a single bill for yourself. I will know."
"I can't," I started, hoping this would land well. "Not today. I already have a task. The Alpha gave it to me himself last night."
Ms. Darkmoon arched an eyebrow, folding her arms over her chest. "What task?"
Fuck! Suddenly, I began to wish the goddess had given the gift of taking back my words rather than healing.
I opened my mouth and closed it in the same breath. Dimitri's warning from the night before still rang in my ears — speak of his illness to another soul and I would be executed. But if I said nothing, she would see it as exactly what it looked like.
I said nothing.
Ms. Darkmoon's eyes narrowed further. A short, humorless laugh escaped her. "So you won't answer. First day, and already lying to me."
She took the list back from my hands, scrawled something at the bottom, and shoved it at me again, heavier now with whatever she had just added.
"Since you apparently have so much free time to invent excuses, your tasks for today have just been doubled. Get it done before sundown. Or I will make sure the Alpha knows exactly how little use his new personal healer is proving to be."
I stood there, staring at the longer list and wondering where I was going to find the time to research Alpha Dimitri’s sickness.
Two weeks.
That was all Alpha Dimitri had given me.
And Ms. Darkmoon had just stolen my first day.