ALEXANDER
I was buried in work when I heard the door to my office swing open. I didn’t need to look up to know it was Irene. Only she had the nerve to barge in without knocking. Sure enough, her
voice followed a second later.
“You’re still here? Aren’t you coming down for dinner?”
I didn’t even glance at her. “No,” I said, scanning through the document in front of me. “I’ll eat
later.”
There was a pause, but I knew she wasn’t done talking.
“You can’t do that,” she said, crossing her arms. I could hear it in her tone…that subtle mix of irritation and conviction that only Irene had mastered.
I finally looked up. “Why not?” o mean she knows I have the habit of skipping dinner most of the time, why is she acting so surprised.
“Because your mate is going to be at the table,” she said, as though that explained
everything. “It’s her first meal here. You can’t just leave her to eat alone. That’s rude, even for you,”
I blinked at her, my thoughts still halfway tangled in numbers and logistics. “She’ll survive dinner without me, Irene. She’s not a guest. She’s here because of an arrangement we both agreed to.”
Irene rolled her eyes so hard I was surprised they didn’t get stuck in the back of her head.” Have you even gone to see her since she arrived?”
I hesitated. I really totally forgot about all of that. But even if I hadn’t forgotten, it was nothing
to make an issue over.
“No,” I admitted. “I’ll see her later tonight, maybe. Or tomorrow morning.”
Irene’s hands went to her hips like she was about to launch into a full–on lecture, but she paused, studying me like I was some infuriating puzzle she still hadn’t given up trying to solve.
“She’s new here, Alex,” she said, her voice lower now. “Everything is strange to her, and the one person who’s supposed to make her feel welcome has locked himself in his office all day like she doesn’t exist.”
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Lexhaled, leaning back in my chair. “Irene, what do you want me to do?” I asked. “Throw a welcome party? This isn’t a fairytale. It’s not a love story, and I’m sure she understands that. This is a business arrangement, and we both knew what it entailed…no expectations.”
Irene looked at me like she genuinely couldn’t believe how dense I was being. Seriously, how she manages to make a big deal of every little thing needs to be studied.
“That girl out there didn’t get here on a just business contract, Alex,” she said. “She left her home, her life, everything she knew, because of this alliance which…by the way… favors blood crescent pack more. The least you could do is act like a decent partner for five minutes.”
I rubbed the bridge of my nose. I hated it when Irene was right, and she usually was.
“She’ll adjust,” I said, though my voice lacked its usual certainty. “And you’re distracting me, please can I get back to work now?”
Irene stared at me for another long beat. I could tell she was seconds away from throwing something–possibly herself–at me in frustration. And maybe she would have, if I hadn’t
raised a hand.
“Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll try to wrap things up here and go see her later tonight.”
She raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed.
“In the meantime,” I added, “why don’t you go keep her company over dinner? She’d probably appreciate your energy more than mine right now. I’ll ask Cole to escort her to the table”
Irene didn’t look entirely satisfied, but she finally turned to leave.
“I will,” she said, pausing at the door. “But you better show up. Because if you don’t, I’ll come back here…you know that.”
Of course I know that. She knows how much I hate being disturbed, but trust Irene to do it
anyway.
FAYE
I was trying to find the dining hall on my own.
Partly because I didn’t want to call anyone for help… Cole, a servant, anyone, and partly because I just didn’t want to feel like a lost child in a place that was already looking for reasons not to accept me.
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I needed to look like I belonged here. Like I didn’t need anyone’s hand to hold. So I’d set out confidently, telling myself that it couldn’t be that hard to find a dining hall in a packhouse this
size.
And maybe it wasn’t. But the corridors were long and quiet, filled with too many turns and stairways that all looked the same. Eventually, I must have taken the wrong turn because I ended up in a spacious room that didn’t smell like food, it smelled like starch and warm fabric.
I paused just past the doorway, frowning.
It was a laundry room.
Several ironing boards were set up, steam hissing softly from one corner. Racks of folded clothes lined the walls, neat and sorted. Two girls stood by the table, busy folding shirts. They hadn’t seen me yet.
I was already turning to leave…maybe retrace my steps…when I heard one of them laugh.
“She must not be all that,” she said in a voice that dripped with casual cruelty. “I mean, she’s only here because there was no better option. A replacement Luna? That’s so embarrassing.”
I froze.
They were talking about me.
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