She couldn’t have been much older than twenty-four from her structure.

For a moment, I thought she might be his lover. It would explain the whispered rumors in the servant’s quarters that the king had a secret woman hidden away.

But… there's something about her face, not familiar exactly but… warm. It brings a strange pull in my chest.

I shook it off and get to work, tucking the sheets, wiping her hands with a damp cloth. Her fingers twitched faintly against mine.

“You’re lucky,” I whispered before I could stop myself. “He treats you like you matter.”

As I stepped back into the hall, I couldn’t stop wondering why a man who would care this deeply for a sleeping lady, could have the mind to ordered my parents’ deaths.

~

"When Gideon Stormfang wants to speak to you, you can't and will never refuse."

"You won't even hesitate. Omegas in the Stormfang territory learned that early. An audience with the Alpha King is rare and dangerous depending on his mood."

Cyrus have drilled it into me, he then added. "He will try to break you. He will try to find out who you are. Don’t give him a single thread to pull on."

So, when the king stopped me outside the great hall with nothing but steady, unreadable look in his golden eyes, I didn’t flinch, I bowed.

“Walk with me,” he said.

I did. The corridors felt longer in his presence. He didn’t hurry, didn’t loom but I could feel him, the quiet weight of him, like a storm you sensed before you saw the clouds.

“How long have you been in my service?” He asked.

“Three weeks, Your Majesty.” I answered.

His gaze slid to mine. “And before that?”

This is it, the moment Cyrus have warned me about. My rehearsed words rolled easily off my tongue.

“I’m an orphan. My parents were gone before I could even shift which I still can't till now.” I kept my eyes on the stone floor. “Sold when I was thirteen but I escaped a year later and hid until I heard you needed maids. So I thought...” I forced a small shrug. “Better to work for a man known for his fairness than be hunted in the wilds.”

He didn’t speak right away, so, I risked a glance at him.

He was watching me like he could taste the lies but couldn’t decide which part of them is false.

“You have no wolf?” He asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” My voice didn’t even crack. “Never had one.”

That part wasn’t a lie, not exactly. My wolf have been silent since that night.

~

Over the next week, he will find excuses to speak to me, passing me a list of supplies instead of the quartermaster, asking me to bring messages to the council chamber and stopping me in the garden to ask if I liked working here.

Every time, my answers were short and neutral, but, he was watching. Always watching. Sometimes, I caught him looking at me like… like he was trying to remember something.

The hardest part is the west wing.

I have been assigned there twice more to tend to the sleeping woman. Every time, I lingered a little longer, my hands moving automatically through the care routine, something about her presence calmed me even when I didn’t understand why.

One evening, as I adjusted the blanket around her shoulders, Gideon entered. I stepped back instantly, bowing to greet him.

“You take good care of her,” He said quietly.

I kept my head down. “She deserves it.”

He was silent for a moment. “What’s your name again?”

“Eva,” I said, as evenly as the first time.

He gave a slow nod. “Right.”

But I can feel he still didn’t believe that's all there about me.

~

Cyrus had warned me about his charming ways.

"He’ll wear it like an armor," he said, the night before I left for Stormfang. "You’ll think he’s gentle, you’ll think he’s noble but that’s how he fools people before he kills them."

But after nearly a month here, I have seen Gideon Stormfang do neither.

He didn’t parade his strength, he didn’t bark orders to make his power known. When a guard forgot to bow, Gideon didn’t strike him, he will just give a single raised eyebrow and walked on.

It didn’t fit the image Cyrus had burned into my mind for five years. But still… appearances could be crafted. My task haven’t changed.

That morning, I was in the west wing again, folding fresh linens when I heard the low, measured sound of Gideon’s voice from the hall.

“I told you, the medicine stays steady. No sudden changes.”

It was followed by another voice, the healer’s. “Of course, Your Majesty. But it’s unusual, she hasn’t aged a day.”

I froze. They were talking about the sleeping woman.

By the time he stepped inside, I was already smoothing the sheets on the narrow cot in the corner, pretending I haven’t heard.

“Eva,” he said.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Did you eat today?” He asked.

The question startled me more than it should have. “Yes.”

He studied my face like he didn’t believe me, then nodded toward the table by the window. “Sit. Eat that bread before you leave.”

“I’m not” I tried to decline.

“That wasn’t a request.” He ordered.

My pulse jumped but I obeyed. He poured me water himself before turning toward the woman in the bed.

His hand hovered over her forehead like he wanted to touch her but didn’t.

That gesture… that careful restraint… didn’t fit the man who supposedly ordered my parents’ deaths.

Later, as I scrubbed the corridor floors, the head maid passed by and muttered to me. “Careful, girl. The king’s taking a liking to you.”

I kept my head down. “I’m just doing my work.”

“Work or not, don’t get caught in royal games. People disappear.”

That night, I thought about her warning…, about how Gideon had poured me water to drink and how he has also look after the woman in the bed.