The clinking of silver against porcelain fills the grand dining hall like faint music. Golden light from the arched windows spills across the long table where Alpha Adrian, Luna Celeste, and Lady Mira dine in measured silence. The scents of honeyed bread, spiced meat, and rose wine mingle with the cool morning air, creating a setting of quiet opulence.
Behind them, omegas move softly the castle’s maids, heads bowed, trays balanced with practiced care. Their soft slippers make no sound against the marble floor as they serve in silence, unseen, unheard.
Among them is Aria, pale as morning mist. The fever that had tormented her through the night clings to her still, making her vision blur and her limbs ache with every step. Her skin glistens faintly with perspiration, her lips dry and colo
