9
~Elara's POV
The night felt heavier than usual. My hair was still pinned from the wedding, and my dress lay folded neatly on the chair beside my bed. I had just changed into my nightgown and was ready to lie down when a soft knock came from the door.
I frowned. "Who's there?"
The door opened slowly, and one of the maids entered, pushing a cart with a silver tray and covered dishes. The sweet smell of roasted meat and fresh bread filled the room instantly.
She smiled warmly. "My lady, Alpha Darlon asked me to bring this up for you."
I blinked. "Food? At this hour?"
"Yes," she said, still smiling. Then she handed me a folded note, sealed with a golden wax mark. "He asked that you read this."
Curious, I took the note. My name was written neatly in Darlon's handwriting. I broke the seal and read it.
You didn't eat anything at the wedding. You must be starving. Eat something before you sleep.
— Darlon.
I stared at the note for a while. My lips twitched; I didn't know whether to smile or frown.
It was… thoughtful. But it also confused me.
The maid began setting the table near the bed, arranging the dishes carefully. "Would you like me to stay, my lady?"
I shook my head quickly. "No. Thank you. You can go."
She curtsied politely and left.
Silence filled the room again. The warm smell of the food made my stomach twist with hunger,I sat on the bed, staring at the food. There was stew, bread, roasted chicken, cheese, and fruits… all neatly arranged. My stomach growled, but I didn't touch anything yet.
Wasn't the groom supposed to…?
I bit my lip, embarrassed by my own thoughts. Janae's teasing words from earlier echoed in my mind.
But there was no knock. No sound of footsteps. No Darlon.
Maybe he didn't want to be here.
The thought stung sharper than I expected. I turned on my side, hugging the pillow tight. Maybe it was because I wasn't his type, I wasn't tall, or graceful, or the kind of woman who turned heads in a room. I was just Elara, soft, plumpy, ordinary.
Maybe he regretted marrying me. Maybe he wished it was Lira standing beside him, the perfect daughter of the Blueberry pack.
I stared at the ceiling, my chest aching. "It's fine," I whispered. "I'm used to being the second choice."
But deep down, it didn't feel fine.
The moonlight slipped through the curtains, bathing the room in pale silver as I stuffed the food in my mouth. I could still see his face in my mind, the way he looked at me earlier, cold yet curious. His voice, deep and controlled, when he said she's my wife now.
If he didn't care, why did he sound so protective?
Why did his eyes burn like that when they insulted me?
I stood after I finished the eating, and climbed into bed. I lay there staring at the ceiling, my heart thumping hard. Sleep came slowly, but when it did, it swallowed me whole.
When I opened my eyes again, the room was dim. The moonlight slipped through the curtains, pale and silver. I was so thirsty.
I rubbed my eyes, groaning softly. "I have finished the water," I murmured.
It felt like dusk, quiet, peaceful, and lonely.
I hesitated for a moment, then stood and pulled a shawl over my nightgown. I didn't want to wake anyone up, but maybe I could find the kitchen and grab water to drink.
The hallway was silent as I stepped out. The walls were lit faintly by wall lamps, but most were already dimmed for the night. My bare feet made no sound on the marble floor.
I tried to remember find my way to the kitchen. The corridors looked longer and darker now.
When I finally found the kitchen, I breathed out in relief and pushed the door open quietly.
It was dark inside. I didn't want to risk turning on the main light, so I fumbled around, touching counters and cabinets.
"Where do they keep anything in this house?" I muttered.
I opened the first cupboard….just plates. The second were cups. The third were spices.
Then I spotted the small refrigerator in the corner. My heart jumped.
"Yes," I whispered.
I opened it and smiled when I saw a few bottles of water and a jug of milk. I grabbed one bottle quickly, gulping down the water before I could think twice.
It was cold. I closed my eyes for a second, enjoying the coldness.
When I finished, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, quietly put the plastic in the bin, and tiptoed back toward the door.
But just as I reached for the handle…
Click!
The light flicked on suddenly.
I froze. My heart leapt to my throat.
I turned sharply and came face-to-face with someone standing just a few steps away.
"Ahh!" I squealed and jumped right into him. My hands flew around his bare torso before my mind even processed who it was.
His skin was warm. Solid.
"Whoa," came a low, familiar voice, calm and amused. "Easy, thief."
My eyes shot open. Darlon.
He stood there shirtless, his dark hair a little messy, his eyes glinting with quiet amusement. The soft light made his muscles look even more defined, his chest broad and firm under my palms.
"I…. I didn't mean to…" I stammered, stepping back quickly, but my hands were still on him.
He raised a brow, smirking slightly. "You didn't mean to break into my kitchen at midnight?"
"I wasn't breaking in!" I hissed. "I was just thirsty…"
He folded his arms over his chest, the muscles in his arms flexing slightly as he leaned against the counter. "You could've called a maid," he said calmly, though there was a teasing glint in his eyes.
"I didn't want to wake anyone up," I said defensively.
He tilted his head, stepping a little closer. The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the warmth of his bare skin. My breath hitched.
"I didn't know where the maids are," I whispered. My voice sounded small, too small, like the air itself was pressing down on me.
For a moment, he just looked at me, really looked at me, and the playful smirk he always carried began to fade. Something gentler took its place. His tone dropped lower, rougher. "Maybe," he said slowly, "you should have called me then."
I blinked, caught off guard. "What… what do you mean?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he leaned in slightly, his voice soft but steady. "You look better like this."
I frowned a little, confused. "Like what?"
"With your hair loose," he murmured, his eyes lingering on my face, then dropping to my lips. "And without the crown."
My breath caught again. I didn't know where to look, so I stared at his chest, then quickly looked away. "I…I thought you didn't want us to… sleep together," I blurted out before I could stop myself.
He raised a brow. "And why would you think that?"
My heart skipped. "Because…"
He stared at me quietly for a long second, too long, and then, slowly, he took a step closer. His eyes softened, the teasing gone now, replaced by something warm and unreadable.
"Elara," he said quietly, my name rolling off his tongue like a secret.
I froze.