LYRA

The storage room smelled like lavender and old wood.

I slipped inside, my fingers still trembling from the encounter. The space was larger than I expected, filled with shelves of linens and supplies. Moonlight filtered through a small window, casting silver shadows across the floor.

I started organizing the supplies I'd brought, trying to steady my breathing, when I heard footsteps behind me.

The stranger stood in the doorway.

"I'm almost finished," I said quickly, not looking at him.

"You're bleeding."

I glanced down at my arm where the gamma's grip had reopened an old wound. A thin line of red seeped through my sleeve.

"It's nothing."

"Nothing doesn't need bandaging." He stepped closer, and that's when his scent hit me. It smelled clean and sharp, like winter pine, but underneath there was something else. Something that made my wolf stir in a way it never had before. “Important”.my instincts whispered. “This man is important.”

I pushed the thought away. "I can tend to it myself."

"I'm sure you can, but you shouldn't have to." He pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket. "May I?"

I hesitated, then slowly pushed up my sleeve. His hands were gentle as he wrapped the cloth around my arm, careful not to press too hard on the bruises.

"What's your name?" he asked softly.

"Does it matter?"

"I suppose not." He tied off the bandage. "But it seems strange. I help you, and we don't even know each other's names."

"Maybe that's better," I said, echoing words I didn't fully understand. "No names means no attachments. No attachments means no one gets hurt."

He smiled slightly. "Wise for someone so young."

"Omegas learn wisdom early. It's how we survive."

His expression shifted to something I couldn't read. Not pity or disgust like I was used to, but something else.

"You shouldn't have to just survive," he said quietly.

"What I should or shouldn't have doesn't matter. It's just how things are."

"Maybe things could be different."

"Maybe." I pulled my sleeve back down. "But probably not."

I expected him to leave, to forget this ever happened, but as I turned back to the supplies, his voice stopped me.

"Little Wolf."

I turned. "What?"

"That's what I'll call you, since we're not using real names." A small smile tugged at his lips. "You remind me of a wolf cub. Small, but fierce."

No one had ever called me fierce before. The word sat strange in my chest, giving me a warm and unfamiliar feeling.

"Then what do I call you?"

"Whatever you want."

I thought for a moment. "Stranger. I'll call you Stranger."

"Fair enough, Little Wolf."

Something shifted in that moment and I had no words for it. All I knew was that walking away felt harder than it should have.

"I should go," I said. "Before someone notices I've been gone too long."

"Will you come back tomorrow? I'm staying in the east tower room. If you need... if you need a safe place."

It was an odd offer, and we both knew it. But I found myself nodding anyway.

"Maybe."

"I'll leave the door unlocked. Just in case."

I left before I could say anything else stupid, before I could ask why a guest with an important scent was offering shelter to an omega servant. Before I could wonder why he looked at me like I was something more than property.

The walk back to the servants' quarters felt different. Lighter somehow, even though nothing had changed. The snow still fell. The nobles still laughed. My mother still waited with more laundry and more work and more reasons to keep my head down.

But for the first time in longer than I could remember, I wanted morning to come. I wanted the day to pass quickly so I could see if he was still there, if the offer had been real.

Just to see, I told myself.

Just to know I had a place to run if things got worse.

But deep down I knew the truth. I wanted to go back because when he looked at me, I didn't feel like an omega. I didn't feel like property or a servant or something meant to be used and discarded.

I felt like a person.

And that was more dangerous than any gamma's hands, more terrifying than any dark corridor. Because hope was a luxury I couldn't afford, and wanting things I could never have would only break me faster.

But I went back anyway.

The next night, and the night after that, and every night until he had to leave.

I went back because he called me Little Wolf and told me stories about freedom, because he made me laugh for the first time since I could remember. Because when he touched my hand in the darkness, it felt like maybe the world could be different.

Even though I knew better.

Even though I should have known it would all end in blood.