The door creaked softly as Mia stepped inside the king's chamber, balancing the tray of food with steady hands. The smell of roasted venison and herb-seasoned root vegetables drifted into the air, though she barely noticed. Her mind was still replaying Barbara's teary expression, Luciana's firm hands applying the salve, and the way they both looked at her back like it was the worst thing they'd ever seen.
Mia didn't need their pity. She needed strength.
The room was dimly lit, as always. The same heavy black drapes, the same scent of cedarwood and something deeper—something wild. She moved across the floor silently, placing the tray on the dining table, just as she had done the night before. Every movement was practiced now. The arrangement of the silverware. The angle of the goblet. The folding of the napkin. All done with precision.
Behind her, she could sense him.
The Lycan King.
Darius stood tall at the edge of the room, freshly emerging from his study. His black robe hung loosely over his broad frame. A few strands of his dark hair fell over his forehead, unkempt. The dark circles under his eyes didn't dull his fierce presence—if anything, they intensified it. He looked… worn. But dangerous still. Like a storm that hadn't passed yet.
She bowed deeply, waiting for him to speak.
But he didn't.
For a long moment, silence swelled between them. Heavy and strange.
He moved toward the table, sitting with a quiet grace. The kind that masked violence beneath control. He didn't acknowledge her—just picked up his cutlery and began to eat. The scrape of the knife against the plate echoed louder than it should have in the quiet.
Mia took her place near the wall, standing still. Just like always.
Yet something felt different.
His gaze flicked toward her once. Just once. But it lingered.
He had seen the way she walked in. The slight hitch in her step. The stiffness of her back. Darius didn't miss such things. He was trained to notice weakness, pain, deceit. But in her eyes, there was none of that. Just… silence. Obedience. Stillness.
And for the first time, it made him uncomfortable.
A knock interrupted the moment.
"Enter," Darius said without turning.
Grey stepped in, his voice low, tense. "The southern patrol confirmed it. Two more villages razed. No survivors. Same patterns as the northern attacks."
Darius's jaw clenched. His fork froze mid-air. "Damn it," he muttered.
Mia's breath stilled.
Beasts. Raids. Destruction.
She remembered what Luciana said about the forest—that no weak wolf returned alive. That only the strong ventured there. And now it wasn't just forbidden—it was dangerous.
Grey approached him with a rolled-up map. "This was the last marked location. We suspect the next attack will be along the riverbanks."
"I want evacuation teams sent to all nearby areas. Every village within twenty miles. No exceptions," Darius ordered.
"And the beasts?"
"We'll deal with them… soon."
Grey hesitated before his eyes flicked briefly to Mia. Then he left, the door shutting behind him with a soft thud.
Mia hadn't moved an inch.
Darius leaned back in his chair. "You've been standing there since I started eating. Do you feel no pain?" His voice was low. Almost curious.
She hesitated. "Pain is… familiar," she said quietly.
Something in her voice made him pause. She hadn't flinched. Hadn't whimpered. Not even once.
"Leave," he said after a moment.
She bowed, turned, and walked away.
But as she reached the corridor, she stumbled slightly. Her back screamed, fresh blood seeping through the corner of her uniform from where the salve had failed to fully protect the worst burn.
She kept walking.
She passed the garden again. Morning dew coated the petals. A new day was blooming, yet darkness lingered around the palace like a heavy breath.
In the kitchen, the chef noticed the blood but said nothing. She handed Mia a small loaf and a cup of herbal tea. "Eat, child," she whispered.
Mia nodded, silently taking the meal to the servants' corner to eat.
When she returned to her shared room, Barbara was pacing.
"Your wound opened again, didn't it?" she asked, rushing over. Luciana followed close behind, her face pale with worry.
"I'm fine," Mia muttered.
"You're not," Luciana said firmly. "That's it. We're getting those herbs from the forest tonight."
Barbara's eyes widened in horror. "Luciana—no. You said it yourself. Only strong Lycans survive there."
"I'd rather take the risk than watch her rot in here."
"But—"
"I'll go," Mia interrupted quietly.
Both girls stared at her.
"I'll go with you," Luciana said, her voice unwavering.
Barbara stood frozen, torn between fear and guilt.
"We'll leave after dinner," Luciana whispered. "When the guards rotate."
Barbara nodded slowly. "I'll cover for you both."
They didn't know it yet, but someone else had heard.
Just outside the servants' quarters, a pair of golden eyes narrowed in the shadows. Watching. Listening.
Smiling.