The second night was worse.
It began quietly, deceptively so, as though the mansion had learned from the first and chosen patience instead of shock. Lanterns glowed low along the corridors, their light stretching thin shadows across the walls. The servants moved with even greater care than usual, steps measured, voices hushed to murmurs that died the moment they reached corners.
Kael noticed everything.
He always did.
From his post near the western stairwell, the Beta stood with his arms crossed, senses stretched outward like invisible threads. The air had shifted since nightfall. It carried tension—sharp, electric—like the moment before a storm breaks.
And at the heart of it all was Mei Lin.
She sat in the small sitting room adjacent to her quarters, pretending to read a book she hadn't turned a page of in several minutes. Her pulse was still uneven from earlier that evening. From the moment she had left the Alpha's room, something had followed her—not footsteps, not a sound, but awareness.
As if the mansion itself now knew her name.
Kael watched her from a distance, his expression unreadable. He had been Alpha Ronan's shadow for years—through loss, through rage, through the long, dark period when the Alpha had refused to heal, refused to live fully. He had learned to recognize signs long before they became disasters.
Tonight carried those signs.
A low sound rolled through the halls.
Not loud enough to be called a howl. Not soft enough to dismiss as wind.
Mei Lin stiffened in her chair.
Kael's jaw tightened.
Servants froze mid-step. Somewhere deeper in the mansion, a door slammed shut.
The sound came again—closer this time.
Mei Lin stood, heart racing. "Is there… is there an animal nearby?" she asked no one in particular.
No one answered.
That silence told her more than words ever could.
Kael moved then, crossing the room in long strides. "You should return to your quarters," he said gently, but there was steel beneath it. "Lock the door."
Her brows drew together. "What's happening?"
"Nothing you need to worry about."
The lie sat poorly between them.
Before she could press further, another presence flooded the room—heavy, commanding, undeniable. The Alpha entered without announcement, his wheelchair pushed not by servants but by Kael himself. Ronan's expression was carved from stone, silver-gray eyes burning brighter than they had any right to in the dim light.
The air reacted to him.
It thickened. Bowed.
Mei Lin felt it press against her chest, stealing her breath.
Ronan's gaze found her instantly.
"You shouldn't be out here," he said.
"I was told I could use the sitting room," she replied, forcing steadiness into her voice.
His eyes lingered on her face, as if measuring something unseen. Then his jaw tightened.
"Kael."
"Yes, Alpha."
"Take her back."
Mei Lin bristled at the command, but before she could object, another sound echoed through the mansion—this one unmistakable. A growl. Deep. Resonant. Too controlled to be feral, too powerful to be human.
Her breath caught.
"That came from inside," she whispered.
Ronan's hands clenched on the arms of his chair.
Kael moved swiftly, positioning himself slightly in front of Mei Lin—not blocking her view, but guarding her. "Please," he said quietly. "Trust me."
The growl came again, answered this time by another from a different wing.
Then another.
The mansion was waking.
Servants hurried now, urgency breaking through their trained composure. Doors closed. Locks slid into place. Candles were extinguished one by one, plunging corridors into shadow.
Mei Lin's fear sharpened into something colder.
"This isn't normal," she said. "Tell me what's going on."
Ronan looked at her then—really looked at her. His expression shifted, just barely, as though something inside him strained against restraint.
"You don't belong in this," he said.
That word again.
Belong.
The implication made her chest ache.
Before she could respond, a sharp cry rang out—pain, not rage. It came from above them.
Ronan's head snapped toward the sound, eyes blazing.
"Enough," he growled.
The word carried weight. Authority. Power.
The answering growls faltered.
Silence followed—but it was the wrong kind. Tense. Watchful.
Kael leaned closer to Ronan. "It's starting earlier," he murmured. "The moon—"
"I know," Ronan cut in.
Mei Lin caught that exchange. The fragments. The unfinished thought.
The moon.
Her gaze drifted instinctively toward the tall windows lining the hall. Pale light spilled through the glass, painting the floor in silver.
Her pulse skipped.
Something inside her responded.
Ronan noticed.
For the briefest moment, his control slipped—and fear crossed his face.
Not fear of the night.
Fear of her.
"Take her away," he ordered sharply.
Kael didn't hesitate. He guided Mei Lin down the corridor, ignoring her protests, his grip firm but not unkind. As they reached her door, the mansion trembled—just slightly, like a living thing shuddering.
"What's happening to me?" she asked, voice shaking.
Kael paused. For the first time since she'd met him, his composure cracked.
"The wrong question," he said softly.
He closed the door.
Locked it.
And as Mei Lin backed away, heart pounding, the moonlight pooled beneath her window—bright, insistent—
As if calling her by a name she had not yet learned.