A Familiar Kindness
1166 Words
The day of the dinner started early and carried the weight of tension in every corner of the house. Ryleigh hadn’t seen Margaret since the night before, but her presence lingered like a shadow—heavy and sharp. Orders had filtered down quickly: floors needed to be scrubbed until they shone, silver polished until it gleamed, and not a single speck of dust was to be seen.
Ryleigh spent most of the morning sweeping, wiping, scrubbing. She didn’t complain. Hard work was familiar. It gave her something to do, something to focus on that wasn’t the confusing blur of her captivity. Still, by the time Natalia appeared and told her it was time to retire to her room, her arms ached and her stomach was a hollow pit.
She sat on the narrow bed and picked up a small book Natalia had lent her the night before—an old, worn copy of Wuthering Heights. Ryleigh flipped through it, trying to lose herself in the words, but her mind kept drifting back to the main hall. Who was this guest? Why did it matter so much? And why had she been so pointedly hidden away?
She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling as thoughts spiraled. Maybe it was some council official. A wealthy ally. Or… someone even more dangerous.
Her stomach growled, breaking her focus. Whatever the reason for her isolation, no one had brought her dinner. She hesitated for only a moment before slipping out of her room and tiptoeing down the hall toward the kitchen.
The scent hit her first—roast meat, herbs, something warm and rich. Her mouth watered.
Inside the kitchen, Natalia stood by the counter arranging small desserts onto silver trays.
“I'm sorry, I know I shouldn’t be here, but I'm starving.” Ryleigh whispered, stepping in.
Natalia turned, eyes wide for half a second before she quickly ushered her inside. “Hurry,” she said. “Grab something small. If Margaret sees you—”
“I know,” Ryleigh muttered, moving toward the bread and cheese laid out on a sideboard.
She’d just torn off a small piece when the kitchen door opened again.
Dr. Derek stepped in.
He was dressed more formally tonight—dark slacks, a button-down shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms. His eyes found Ryleigh immediately, surprised but not alarmed.
“I didn’t expect to find you here,” he said with a soft smile.
Ryleigh froze, unsure what to say. “I was… hungry.”
He nodded, leaning casually against the counter. “Understandable. How are you adjusting to life here?”
She swallowed, unsure how honest to be. “It’s... different. The work keeps me busy. Everyone follows rules I don’t understand.”
Derek chuckled softly. “That sounds about right.”
“I don’t know who I’m supposed to be here,” she admitted.
Before he could reply, the door burst open.
Margaret stormed in like a thundercloud in heels. Her eyes landed on Ryleigh and narrowed into blades.
“You were told to stay in your room.”
Ryleigh stepped back instinctively. “I—I was just hungry. I wasn’t trying to—”
The slap came fast.
Pain bloomed across her cheek, hot and shocking. She staggered.
“Do not disobey me!” Margaret hissed, her hand rising again.
But before she could strike, Derek’s hand caught hers midair.
“That’s enough,” he said firmly. “You shouldn’t hit her.”
Margaret turned on him, fury flashing in her eyes. “This is why your brother is Alpha, and you’re just a doctor,” she spat, the words laced with venom.
Something dark flickered behind Derek’s calm eyes, but he didn’t release her hand.
He only said, “Maybe being a doctor means I know how not to break people.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Derek’s grip tightened slightly around Margaret’s wrist—not enough to hurt, but enough to stop her cold.
“That’s enough,” he said again, voice calm but steel-edged. “You shouldn’t hit her.”
Margaret’s eyes blazed with fury. She jerked her hand back and stepped closer to him, her voice low and sharp. “Maybe if you were more like your brother, you’d be Beta of this pack instead of just hovering on the edges.”
Derek’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t flinch. “Maybe,” he said. “But the only reason I came back at all was because the pack needed a doctor after the accident. You remember that, right? Or did we forget what happened to the last one?”
Margaret’s lips curled, not in a smile but in something crueler. “Ah yes, the tragic accident,” she said coldly. “So noble of you to return and tend to the packs wounds. Always the hero, Derek.”
He said nothing, his eyes locked on hers.
“And yet,” she continued, her gaze flicking deliberately to Ryleigh, “you’ve always had such a soft spot for humans. So delicate. So breakable.”
She practically spat the word as her eyes bore into Ryleigh with contempt, the kind that made her feel like she was something unclean. Ryleigh stood frozen, her hand still holding the scrap of bread, her cheek stinging where Margaret had struck her.
Derek stepped slightly in front of Ryleigh without thinking. “She’s not your enemy.”
Margaret scoffed. “No. But she is a problem.”
She turned sharply on her heel to Natalia. “Get her out of here,” she snapped over her shoulder. “If she’s seen again tonight, there will be consequences. For both of you.”
And with that, she swept out of the kitchen, the door slamming shut behind her.
Silence settled again, but it was heavier now—dense with words unspoken.
Derek exhaled slowly and turned to Ryleigh. “Are you alright?”
She nodded, but her voice was tight. “Yeah. Just… wasn’t expecting that.”
He looked at the red mark on her cheek, his expression darkening. “She shouldn’t have touched you.”
Ryleigh lowered her eyes. “She hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” Derek said, though there was little conviction behind it. “She hates anything she can’t control.”
He hesitated, then added, “Come on. Take what you need and get back to your room. I’ll go back to the dining room and calm her down.”
Ryleigh gathered a few things in silence, her mind buzzing. But as she moved past Derek, she glanced up at him.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
He nodded once. “Don’t worry. You're safe. Trust me.”
And then she slipped back into the shadows of the hall, heart pounding, the slap still burning on her skin—but it was the look in Derek’s eyes that stayed with her.
Not pity.
Recognition.
You're safe. Trust me.......
Derek.....was D!
- Writer
