CHAPTER 23: CHAPTER 23

The sunlight hit like a blade to the eyes. Too sharp, too bright, too loud. I stood at my post outside the packhouse, broom in hand, trying to look like I was sweeping the stone steps when really my head was tilting forward in little jerks. I hadn’t slept. Not a second. The night had been one long, jagged hallucination, his voice carving holes in my thoughts until even silence felt suspicious. Now, the weight in my skull was so heavy it kept pulling me down. At some point, I realized my eyes were closed while standing.

That was when I heard the first laugh.

"Look at her," someone muttered. "She’s sleeping on her feet like a cow."

I blinked, head snapping up. Three pack warriors leaned against the railing, arms crossed, smirking.

"She’s drooling."

"She’s gonna fall on her face."

The words felt like mosquito bites tiny, sharp, impossible to ignore. I gripped the broom harder, but my fingers felt numb, like I was holding it through a layer of fog. One of them nudged the other. "Bet if we yelled ’Alpha’s coming,’ she’d trip over her own tail and they all Laughed. I forced myself to move, sweeping the same spot I’d already done twice. My knees trembled with every shift of weight.

Another voice joined in, louder. "Maybe she’s drunk."

The broom handle slipped in my sweaty palm. My vision tunneled until only their grinning faces stayed in focus.

:Inner Voice (silky, creeping in without warning): Let them talk. I’ll give them a reason to stop.

My heart jolted at the sound of him inside my head. I didn’t see him at first. The laughter died like someone had cut the sound from the air. Then I caught the change in posture shoulders stiffening, smirks vanishing, eyes snapping straight ahead. The psycho Alpha and the reason for my sleepless night was there. He moved like a shadow that had decided to become flesh. The sun didn’t seem to touch him the way it touched the others it slid over his black coat and caught in the pale edges of his hair, but his eyes were the darkest thing in the courtyard. He didn’t speak at first. Just walked toward us, slow enough that the silence thickened into something that pressed against my ears.

One of the warriors tried to clear his throat. It came out like a squeak. The psycho Alpha stopped in front of them, not me. His voice was low, smooth, and terrible in how calm it was.

"Do I keep you so entertained that you forget your work?"

"No, Alpha—"

The slap was so fast I didn’t see the movement. The sound cracked across the courtyard. The warrior staggered sideways, a red bloom spreading across his cheek.The others froze.

"Perhaps," he said softly, "you’d prefer I find a different use for your mouth. Something quieter." They didn’t answer. They didn’t dare. He turned his head slightly, eyes cutting toward me. "Was she bothering you?"

"N-no, Alpha," one stammered.

His gaze lingered on him a beat too long, then flicked away as if dismissing him from existence.

: Inner Voice (purring now, in my skull): You see, little toad They’re mine to break.

My hands tightened on the broom until the wood dug into my palms. He took a step closer to me. The space between us shrank until I could see the faint shadow of his lashes when he blinked.

"You’re shaking," he observed aloud, his tone flat enough for others to hear but not interpret.

He reached out and caught my chin between two fingers, tilting my face up. My breath caught.

"She’s pale," he said to no one in particular. "Paler than usual. Have you eaten?"

I managed to shake my head.

The corner of his mouth curved not a smile, not exactly. "Neglect will not be tolerated in my pack," he said, his voice like a blade dipped in honey. Then, sharper: "If I hear of anyone starving her, I’ll put them in the ground myself."

The courtyard held its breath.

Inner Voice : (almost laughing): Hear that? You’re under my protection. Now you can’t run without looking ungrateful.

He released my chin but didn’t step back. His fingers trailed deliberately down the side of my face before falling away, leaving a phantom touch that burned more than the sun. Without looking at the warriors again, he said, "On your knees. All of you."

They dropped instantly.

"Hands behind your heads."

They obeyed, the scrape of their boots loud in the quiet.

Kaelen didn’t move for a long moment. Then he walked behind them, each step slow, measured. A sudden, brutal kick to the ribs made one grunt. Another got a sharp blow to the back of the neck that dropped him forward onto his hands. The last one flinched before Kaelen touched him and Kaelen chuckled under his breath, which somehow made it worse. When he finally turned back to me, his eyes were unreadable.

"Go inside," he ordered aloud.

Inner Voice: (low, amused): Before you fall down. I prefer my prey conscious.

I moved, legs stiff, broom still clutched in my hands like a lifeline. I could feel every gaze on my back. But the only one that mattered was the one I couldn’t shake, even after I was through the doors.

Inner Voice: (soft, final for now): Sleep, little rabbit. I’ll decide when you’ve earned it.

And I knew the night would come far too soon.

By the time the sun dipped behind the treeline, my chest already felt tight.

Not from work.

From knowing the night was coming. The previous night’s stolen sleep clung to me like damp cloth. I’d barely survived the day without collapsing, and now the thought of being alone in my room again door locked, lights out, waiting for his voice made my throat close up. So I made a plan on how to escape him again. Stay in the lit, crowded spaces. Keep moving. Blend in. If he didn’t have me cornered, maybe just maybe he’d leave me alone. The dining hall was still buzzing after dinner. I lingered at one of the long tables, wiping crumbs into my palm, pretending to tidy. The smell of roasted meat and woodsmoke hung in the air, masking the faint leather scent that haunted my senses. But I couldn’t stay forever. Eventually, the plates were stacked, benches pushed in, candles snuffed one by one. The crowd thinned until the only sound was the clink of cutlery being put away. That was when I felt it pressure at the edge of my awareness, like someone leaning just close enough to touch my shoulder but never making contact.

Inner Voice :(low, conversational): Still awake, little rabbit?

I straightened so fast my hip bumped the table. I didn’t bother turning around. I slipped into the east hallway, the one that looped past the laundry before doubling back to the servants’ wing. My footsteps echoed too loud on the stone, bouncing back at me from the darkened walls. Halfway down, I caught movement at the far end.

Alpha Psycho!! He wasn’t walking toward me. He was just there, one hand braced against the wall, his eyes locked on me like he’d been waiting all along. I spun and headed the other way. The west hallway was worse dim, the sconces unlit, only the silver wash of moonlight spilling through narrow windows. I hugged the wall, keeping my steps light, heart pounding in my throat. A shadow crossed the moonlight ahead.

I froze. He stepped into view, casual, like he was taking a stroll. My skin went cold. I doubled back, this time cutting through the inner courtyard. The grass was wet under my shoes, the night air sharp in my lungs. For a few precious seconds, I thought I’d outpaced him. Then I heard the door creak open behind me. The crazy psycho walked out like he owned the night. Which, in this place, he did.

Inner Voice: (silky): Three times you’ve run. Shall we see how many before I catch you?

I rushed inside through another entrance, taking the narrow servant staircase two steps at a time. My breath came harsh, my palms slick.

The hallway at the top was quiet. My room was only a few doors down. I reached for the latch. A shadow moved in my peripheral vision. He leaned in the doorway across from mine, arms crossed, gaze unreadable.

"How efficient you are," he said aloud, tone mild. "Finding me no matter where you go."

I swallowed hard. "I’m just—"

"Trying to avoid me," he finished, pushing off the doorframe. He closed the distance in three slow steps, stopping so close I could see the faint gold flecks in his dark irises. One finger hooked under my chin, tilting my head up.

Inner Voice: (amused): You’re learning. The more you run, the sweeter it gets. I forced my eyes away, staring at the floor, but that only made his shadow spill over me entirely.

His voice, the one the others could hear, was quieter now. "Come with me."

"I— I have to—"

"That wasn’t a request."

His hand closed around my wrist—not painfully, but firmly enough that my pulse beat against his fingers. He started walking toward the far end of the hall, guiding me along. I dug my heels in once, twice, but it was like trying to resist the pull of a current. The door at the end was unlike the others darker wood, heavier, the kind that didn’t open unless the owner wanted it to.

His quarters. He stopped with one hand on the latch.

Inner Voice: (low, predatory): One step inside, little toad and you’ll never pretend you’re safe again.

For a heartbeat, I thought he would open it. Thought he’d pull me through and shut the world out. Instead, he let go of my wrist.

"You may go," he said aloud, stepping back.

My breath came too fast, chest rising and falling.

"But," he added, leaning just close enough for his words to ghost over my ear, "the next time you run make it interesting."

Inner Voice: (soft, satisfied): Now go dream of me. I’ll be there.

I didn’t walk, rather I fled. But no matter how far I got down that hall, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the door was still open behind me.