CHAPTER 24: UNEXPECTED VISITOR - A FOE OR FRIEND?

I stared at the ceiling long after Finn had stormed from the room.

My body lay stiff on the bed, but inside I was unraveling. Tears streamed hot and unchecked down my temples, pooling into the furs beneath me.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even think. Every breath rasped in and out like a struggle, my chest aching as though my heart had cracked under the weight of it all.

I don’t know how many minutes passed, maybe longer, before the door creaked open again.

My heart lurched, terror seizing me that he had come back. But it wasn’t Finn.

A maid stepped inside. She kept her gaze low, her movements brisk.

Without a word, she took me by the arm, lifting me carefully from the bed. My body felt like glass in her grip, brittle and thin, but I didn’t resist. I had no fight left.

She guided me silently through the dim hallways, back to the room I was given since being brought into the manor. The door clicked shut behind me, and I was alone again.

I sat on the edge of the bed, folding into myself, hugging my knees tightly.

I didn’t know who the unexpected visitor was, the one who had pulled Finn away. But I remembered the tone of the warrior’s voice - terrified, strained.

Whoever had come, they were no friend to Finn, that much was certain.

And for that, I silently thanked them. Because if not for that knock on the door, I would have been broken beyond repair.

A quiet knock sounded in my room, softer this time.

The door opened, and Roldan, the head servant, stepped in with a tray.

His presence was different from the maids, gentler, steady, though there was something unreadable about the way his eyes lingered on me.

He set the tray down on the table and handed me a steaming cup.

"Drink this," he said, his voice calm but firm. "It will help settle your mind."

For a moment, our gazes met. And I could have sworn I saw something flicker in his eyes, sympathy, perhaps, or something heavier.

But just as quickly, he looked away.

Roldan didn’t say another word and left me alone again.

I cradled the cup between my hands, the warmth seeping into my cold fingers. I didn’t even think about whether it was poisoned. I almost wouldn’t have cared.

My stomach ached with emptiness, and I needed something warm to ground me.

I drank slowly. The tea was bitter at first, but it soothed my throat, easing the raw edge left from crying and pleading.

And as the minutes passed, I felt a shift inside me. My head cleared, my body steadied. Whatever had been in the bath earlier, the haze, the weakness, it was lifting, washed away by the tea.

When the cup was empty, I set it aside with trembling hands. I could now breathe without the weight of fog clouding me.

I rose slowly and crossed to the wardrobe. My fingers fumbled over the wooden handle, pulling free my nightdress.

When I was done, I sat back on the bed, staring into nothing.

Time slipped by unnoticed. The fire in the hearth dwindled to glowing embers, shadows lengthening across the walls. I didn’t sleep. Couldn’t.

An hour might have passed before I finally pushed myself to my feet and wandered to the balcony.

The cool night air kissed my skin as I stepped into the shadows, the garden sprawling below.

At first, I thought the silence of the night would soothe me. But then I saw them.

A group of warriors lined the front of the manor, their formation rigid, defensive. Each one stood braced, their stance taut with readiness.

My pulse quickened.

And at their center stood Finn.

Even from here, I could feel the force of his presence, the sharp authority of an Alpha bristling from his posture. His shoulders were squared, his chin high, his golden eyes fixed ahead.

I followed his gaze, and froze.

Several feet away, standing alone before the defensive line, was a man.

I couldn’t make out his face in the dim light, the shadows obscuring his features, but I knew instinctively he was no ordinary visitor.

His presence carried weight, like a storm pressing on the horizon, calm but lethal.

A chill ran through me, raising gooseflesh along my arms.

Whoever he was, he had brought Finn and his warriors to alert.

I leaned forward over the balcony rail, straining my ears.

But no matter how hard I tried, the voices below blurred into nothing, swallowed by distance and the restless wind.

Their stances, though, told me enough. Finn stood like a blade unsheathed, rigid, sharp, ready to strike.

The warriors around him mirrored his tension, their shoulders squared, muscles tight, as if at any moment they expected the stranger to lunge.

I gnawed at my lip, anxiety threading its way through my chest.

What if the man was an enemy? What if he had a pack of his own waiting in the shadows, ready to attack us?

I hated Finn. I hated nearly everyone who had stood by while he dragged me into this nightmare.

But hate wasn’t the same as wishing for death. Not for the town. Not for the families who had no part in this, the children, the elders, the women who would never stand a chance in a fight. My stomach twisted at the thought of blood on the cobblestones, of screams tearing through the night.

Please, not that, I thought, hugging my arms around myself.

My eyes settled on the visitor.

He stood utterly still, tall and commanding, as though the world itself bowed to him. His shoulders carried an imposing aura, and it made the air feel heavier, the night darker. His casual clothes were midnight black, fitting him like armor, though he wore no visible weapon.

He was alone.

And still, Finn and more than a dozen of his warriors treated him as if he were an army by himself.

Who was he?

The distance blurred his features, but I studied every line of him.

His broad stance, the tilt of his head, the way his presence seemed to demand attention without a word.

A shiver trailed down my spine.

Another minute dragged by with Finn exchanging words with the visitor. I held my breath until my lungs ached, waiting for one of them to make a move.

And then—

The visitor turned.

He moved with casual ease, his steps unhurried, as though the warriors behind him with their bared teeth and coiled muscles didn’t exist. As though Finn himself were no threat at all.

My nails dug into the balcony rail. How could anyone walk away from Finn and more than a dozen warriors like that? Without fear, without even the courtesy of caution?

I watched him go, my heart thudding unevenly.

His figure melted into the darkness, swallowed by the night, but the impression of him lingered, heavy as a stormcloud refusing to break.