Vlad's chest rose and fell with barely controlled breaths. The scent of blood still clung to him—dry, sharp, and metallic. His clothes bore the evidence of battle, torn at the sleeves, smears of red staining the seams. The cuts on his arm throbbed, but none of that compared to the boiling fury surging through him as he stood before Casey.
She looked so small, so fragile, standing in his room.
But it was the journal—her journal—that broke whatever thread of patience he had left.
"What are you doing in here?" he snapped, voice harsh.
Casey flinched, her eyes wide, her hands trembling at her sides.
"I— I was told to clean your room. I didn't mean—"
"Didn't mean?" he cut her off. "You didn't mean to touch something that wasn't yours?"
She swallowed hard, chest rising, her breaths now anxious.
"I'm sorry, Alpha, truly. I only— I saw the journal and—"
"You saw it and decided it was yours to open?" His voice rose, booming across the room, heavy with a pain she didn't understand. "That belonged to someone I cared for. Someone who—" He stopped himself, his jaw clenched so tight it trembled.
Casey's head dropped.
"I'm sorry…" she whispered again, barely audible.
But Vlad had already turned away, fists clenched at his sides.
"Leave. Now."
She didn't argue. She walked out, her head down, and didn't look back.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Casey scrubbed tiles, swept corridors, and wiped away things far cleaner than her thoughts. Her mind kept playing the scene over and over, his anger, the way his eyes burned—not just with fury but grief. She had touched something sacred. She hadn't meant to, but she had.
Later in the afternoon, a general maid approached her.
"You're to assist Beta Luca. He returned with injuries."
Casey blinked. "Me?"
"Yes. The healer needs help dressing his wounds."
Still sore from the morning's embarrassment, Casey made her way to the infirmary. She knocked lightly and stepped inside.
Luca sat on a bench, shirt off, bloodied cloth tossed beside him. His side bore a long gash and smaller cuts lined his arms and neck. At first, he stiffened at the sight of her, eyes narrowing with suspicion.
But then something in his expression softened.
"Didn't think you of all people would volunteer to patch me up."
"I didn't volunteer," she muttered, gently picking up a clean cloth and ointment. "They sent me."
He huffed a short laugh and let her work in silence for a few moments.
She dabbed gently around his side. "What happened?"
"Ambush," he said simply, his voice low. "We've been hunting for a rogue camp for weeks. Bastards hit us when we least expected. Left more marks on us than we did on them."
"But you're alive," Casey murmured, wiping away dried blood.
"Barely." He winced. "If Vlad hadn't joined when he did, we'd have lost more than a few border wolves."
Casey bit her lip. "Do you think they'll come again?"
Luca shrugged. "They want something. Probably resources, territory. They've been stealing from our stores. But they're ghosts—here one day, gone the next. Hard to kill what you can't track."
She nodded, not sure what to say. She wasn't a warrior. But she listened. And maybe, in that moment, it was enough.
When she finished tending his wounds, she packed up the supplies in silence. Luca glanced at her once, then looked away. His guard wasn't fully down, but something in him had eased.
Later that evening, Vlad sat quietly in the healer's room. The elderly woman finished wrapping his forearm and eyed him carefully.
"You're too silent for a man who just won a skirmish," she said.
He didn't answer.
Her gaze shifted toward the door. "Whatever's on your mind, it's not just the battle."
Still, he didn't respond.
She sighed, packing away her salves. "Clear your head, Alpha. Or your heart will make a fool of your power."
When she left, the silence returned. Vlad stood by the window, staring at the edge of the forest.
A knock came at the door.
"Bring Casey to me," he said without turning.
But the maid behind the door hesitated.
"She already left, Alpha."
He said nothing. Only the creak of the old wooden floor answered her.