I had never known silence could feel so heavy.
The mansion was quiet in the way a forest goes quiet before a storm—too deliberate, too alert. Even my footsteps sounded intrusive as I walked down the east corridor, the tray of herbal tea trembling slightly in my hands.
I told myself it was nerves.
First-week jitters.
A new job in a house far too large and far too secretive.
Still, the feeling followed me. Like something unseen was watching. Listening. Waiting.
The Alpha's door stood at the far end of the corridor, dark wood carved with symbols I hadn't yet studied closely. I stopped before it, inhaled slowly, and knocked.
No answer.
I hesitated, then knocked again. "Sir? It's Mei Lin."
Silence.
Beta Kael had warned me earlier—He withdraws. Sometimes for hours. Sometimes for days.
Don't push him. But don't let him disappear either.
I didn't know how to balance that line. I was a caregiver, not a mind reader.
Carefully, I turned the handle and stepped inside.
The room was dim, curtains drawn tight despite the late afternoon light. The scent struck me instantly—pine, frost, and something sharp and aching beneath it. Grief, my mind supplied irrationally.
He sat near the window, his broad back to me, shoulders rigid in his wheelchair. Dark hair fell loose down his neck. For a moment, I thought he hadn't noticed me.
Then he spoke.
"You walk softly," he said. "But not softly enough."
My heart leapt. "I—sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."
"You didn't."
I couldn't tell whether that was reassurance or warning.
I crossed the room and placed the tray on the side table. That was when I noticed the deep gouges along the arm of the wheelchair—wood torn as if by fingers far stronger than they should have been.
My throat tightened.
"Beta Kael asked me to bring you tea," I said gently. "He said you haven't eaten."
A low laugh escaped him. Empty. Bitter.
"Of course he did."
I stayed silent. I was learning that silence often survived where words didn't.
Minutes passed. The ticking of a distant clock echoed too loudly. I shifted my weight, unsure whether I was meant to stay or go.
Then he spoke again. "Do you know why this wing is empty?"
I glanced around. "No, sir."
"It used to be full of laughter," he said. "Music. Voices. Life."
Something tightened in my chest. "What happened?"
His reflection stared back at me from the window glass. When his eyes met mine through it, I caught my breath. Silver-gray. Sharp even in shadow.
"She died."
The words struck harder than I expected.
"I'm sorry," I said quietly.
"You shouldn't be." His jaw clenched. "I am."
The air felt thicker. Pressurized. My skin prickled.
"You punish yourself," I said before I could stop myself.
His hands clenched around the arms of the wheelchair. The wood creaked—no, groaned—beneath the force.
"You're human," he said slowly, deliberately. "You don't understand our laws."
The words didn't just sting.
They split something open inside me.
Human.
Not you wouldn't understand.
Not outsiders wouldn't understand.
Human.
The way he said it made my stomach twist. As if it were a classification. A boundary.
As if I stood on one side of a line I hadn't known existed.
I stared at him, my thoughts racing. The servants who moved too quietly. The guards whose eyes gleamed strangely in low light. Beta Kael's unnatural strength. The way conversations stopped when I entered a room.
If I'm human…
Then what were they?
I swallowed hard. "Then… what are you?"
His gaze snapped to mine—sharp, warning, unreadable.
"You should leave," he said.
The finality in his voice stole my breath.
I nodded and turned toward the door, my heart pounding. But halfway there, dizziness hit me without warning. The room tilted. The air hummed, vibrating through my bones.
I grabbed the doorframe, gasping.
"Mei."
He said my name.
I turned.
His eyes were glowing.
Not with light.
With moon-silver fire.
Fear should have taken me then. Rational fear. Logical fear.
Instead, something deep inside me stirred—ancient, aching, and unfamiliar. As though something had recognized him.
Or worse…
As though something had been waiting for him all along.