Silver Moon Palace had mastered the art of appearing calm.
Servants bowed. Guards stood immobile. Meals were served on time. Yet beneath the polished stone and measured routines, something strained—like a cord pulled too tight, ready to snap if touched carelessly.
Lady Isolde Veyra felt it the moment she woke.
She sat before her mirror while Maris braided her hair, each movement precise. Isolde watched her reflection with cool appraisal. She looked every bit the Alpha's wife—composed, beautiful, untouchable.
And yet.
"He has not sent for me," Isolde said.
Maris kept her hands steady. "It has only been three days, my lady."
"Three days is an eternity in a palace," Isolde replied. "Especially when one's position must be established."
Her eyes hardened. "He denies me access on purpose."
"Perhaps he needs time," Maris offered.
Isolde's lips curved faintly. "Men like Kael Draven do not need time. They need pressure."
Across the palace, in chambers far less ornate, Serina listened to her maid with practiced patience.
"He has not touched her," the maid repeated. "The Alpha keeps his distance."
Serina leaned back against her cushions, considering. "Good."
"Good, mistress?"
"Yes," Serina said softly. "Because a woman ignored grows desperate. And desperate women make mistakes."
She lifted her gaze. "What of the maid? The quiet one."
"Lyria?" the maid asked. "She keeps to herself. No trouble."
Serina hummed. "Then keep it that way. Watch—but do not provoke."
In the servants' quarters, Lyria folded linens beside Selene and Nysa. The rhythm should have been calming. It wasn't.
"You're folding that one too slowly," Selene teased.
"I'm folding it properly," Lyria replied.
Nysa glanced between them. "Both of you—focus."
Selene lowered her voice. "Everyone's talking about the new wife."
"I know," Lyria said.
"What do you think of her?" Selene pressed.
Lyria paused, fingers tightening on the cloth. "I think… she chose this."
Nysa shot Selene a warning look. "Enough."
Selene sighed but dropped the subject.
Still, Lyria's thoughts lingered. She had seen Isolde only once—from a distance. Graceful. Confident. Untouchable.
She belongs in his world, Lyria thought.
I do not.
And yet, the memory of Kael's hand steadying her in the corridor refused to fade.
Kael Draven trained longer than necessary that morning.
His strikes were clean, controlled, relentless. Darian and Thorne sparred with him in silence, knowing better than to distract him when his focus sharpened like this.
Riven watched from the edge.
"You're punishing the ground," Riven said when Kael finally stopped.
Kael exhaled. "I'm clearing my head."
"You've been trying to clear it for days."
Kael wiped his blade and sheathed it. "The palace watches my every move."
"They always have."
"Yes," Kael replied. "But now they expect something."
Riven nodded slowly. "And expectation is a kind of trap."
That afternoon, Isolde tried again.
She arrived at Kael's wing unannounced, posture serene.
"I will wait," she told the guards.
She waited an hour.
Then two.
When she finally left, her smile remained—but something sharp burned behind her eyes.
"He humiliates me," she said quietly to Maris.
"No," Maris replied carefully. "He resists you."
Isolde stopped walking. "Then he will learn the cost of resistance."
Evening settled slowly.
Lyria was sent to the gardens to gather herbs. The moon was high, light pooling across stone paths. She worked quickly, senses alert.
She did not hear Kael approach.
"Careful," he said, as she nearly collided with him again.
She froze. "Alpha—I didn't—"
"You're always apologizing," he said, almost amused.
"I keep running into you."
"That," he said calmly, "is becoming noticeable."
Her pulse quickened. "Should I avoid the gardens?"
"No," Kael replied. "I should."
She looked up, surprised.
For a moment, neither spoke.
"Does she trouble you?" Lyria asked softly.
Kael studied her. "Why do you care?"
"I don't," she answered too quickly.
A pause.
"Lyria," Kael said, voice firm but not unkind, "there are things happening in this palace that will hurt anyone standing too close."
Her chin lifted. "I've lived here my whole life. I know how to stay unseen."
His wolf stirred uneasily.
"Go inside," he said.
She obeyed.
But as she left, Kael realized something unsettling.
She was no longer unseen.