The rag in my fingers had long since turned into a sticky, wax-soaked lump. My palms burned, the skin at my knuckles had cracked, and every movement across the massive oak sent a dull, sharp ache through my shoulder.
"Rub harder, you worthless girl. I can still see the wine stain."
Selena appeared behind me silently, as always. Her voice, sharp and cold, slashed across my nerves. I didn't turn around. I leaned harder against the tabletop, feeling the resistance of the wood.
"Are you deaf?"
Selena's heavy boot slammed into the table leg. The vibration traveled through the wood, jarring my elbows.
"The stain is gone, mistress."
"It's gone when I say it's gone."
Selena rounded the table, her silk dress the color of clotted blood rustling against the stone tiles. She leaned in, peering at the polished surface. Her face, flawless and predatory, was reflected in the dark wood.
"Stand up."
I straightened, hiding my trembling hands behind my back. My knees ached from standing so long, and a dull pain still throbbed in my lower abdomen after Garret's morning "lesson."
"Closer."
I took a step. Selena smelled of expensive ointments and something cloyingly sweet that made nausea rise in my throat. She reached out, her long nails, painted black, catching my chin and jerking it sharply upward.
"Look at me."
I forced myself to meet her gaze. There was no hatred in her eyes—only the boredom of a researcher dissecting an insect.
"Today you will serve me personally. All evening. And God help you if a single drop falls outside the goblet."
"The hall will be too crowded, I might not make it in time..."
"You will make time for whatever I command. Or do I need to remind you what they do to those who ruin the pack's celebration?"
She shoved me in the chest. I stumbled, my back nearly hitting the sharp edge of the neighboring table. Selena smirked with satisfaction, smoothing an invisible crease on her sleeve.
"Go get the wine. Now."
I turned to leave, but a heavy shove to my back made me trip.
"Move it!"
The air in the hall suddenly changed. It grew thicker, heavier, as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room at once. I froze before reaching the kitchen doors. At the far end of the Great Hall, the heavy double doors swung open.
He entered without a sound. No clatter of armor, no loud commands. Just a presence that pressed me to the floor harder than any order from Selena. Cale.
He walked through the hall without looking around. Tall, deceptively calm, wearing a black doublet that emphasized the breadth of his shoulders. His gait was predatory and fluid, like a beast on the prowl.
I stood frozen, unable to breathe. Cale was passing by—only a few paces away.
And then it happened.
The scent of smoke. Bitter, pungent, like a fire made of cedar branches on a freezing night. It rushed into my lungs, searing away everything else. It wasn't just an aroma—it was a physical force. The smoke seeped under my skin, flowing through my veins like liquid lead.
My fingers went limp. The dirty rag flopped onto the floor. A tremor so violent racked my body that my teeth chattered. My heart broke into a frantic rhythm, hammering somewhere in my throat.
Cale didn't even turn his head. He walked past, heading toward the Alpha's dais, leaving a trail of that unbearable, magnetic scent in his wake. My knees buckled. I grabbed the edge of the table to keep from collapsing.
"Hey, watch it!"
Tom passed by me, breathing heavily. He was carrying an armful of long blades wrapped in coarse burlap. He stopped for a second, shifting his heavy burden. His face, usually cheerful, was pale and focused.
"Alina? What's wrong with you?"
I couldn't answer. My lungs burned, demanding more of that smoky air that was already dissipating.
Tom looked from me to Cale's retreating back, then back to my trembling hands. Something flickered in his eyes... pity? Sympathy? He glanced quickly at Selena, who was distracted by one of the guards.
"Just breathe," he whispered, his lips barely moving. "Don't look at him. Never look directly at him."
"What's happening to me?" My voice sounded like the rustle of dry leaves.
"May the Moon help you if they notice."
Tom hurried on, trying not to draw attention with the heavy clank of steel.
"Have some water, child. You look like you've seen a ghost."
Ella appeared beside me, pretending to straighten the tablecloth. She pressed a pewter mug into my hand. The water was ice-cold, but I could barely feel it.
"He... he just walked past," I choked out, staring at my hands. They were still shaking uncontrollably.
"He's the Alpha, Alina. Their blood screams so loud it makes the ears of people like us ring. Drink."
I took a sip. The water did nothing to dampen the heat inside me.
"Have you heard the news from the upper chambers?" Ella leaned lower, her whisper barely audible over the din of preparation.
"I don't have time for gossip, Selena will kill me..."
"Listen, you fool. The bride. The one they brought from the Northern Clan. They say she's in a bad way. Shaking with fever, won't eat. The healers are shaking their heads."
I blinked, confused.
"What is that to me?"
"Everything, because the Blood Moon ceremony is in two days. Cale needs a mate. It's mandatory. If that girl dies..."
Ella cut herself off. Selena was returning with a swift stride, her face contorted with rage.
"What are you two rats chirping about? The work won't do itself!"
Ella recoiled instantly, feverishly smoothing out imaginary wrinkles.
"We were just discussing if there are enough place settings for the guests, mistress..."
"Shut your mouth."
Selena stepped right up to me. I felt her anger vibrating in the air. She swung her hand, and I instinctively closed my eyes, bracing for a blow to the face, but instead felt a sharp pain in my shin.
The kick was precise and powerful. I cried out, sinking to the floor and clutching the bruised spot.
"Get up! Don't you dare sit in the presence of your betters!"
I stood up, biting my lips to keep from sobbing. The pain in my leg was dull and throbbing, but at least it slightly displaced the strange numbness Cale had caused.
Selena grabbed me by the hair, forcing my head back. Her face was inches from mine; I could see her dilated pupils and the fine web of vessels in her eyes.
"Do you think I didn't see you staring at him?" she hissed. "Trembling like a bitch in heat?"
"No... I just..."
"Shut up. You are dirt under his feet. A shadow he wouldn't even notice if he stepped on it."
She released my hair abruptly, and I barely kept my balance. Selena scanned the hall, then looked back at me with a new, terrifying smirk.
"Though... you know what? The Pack Council is concerned about our northern guest's health."
My heart skipped a beat. Ella's words echoed in my head.
"They need candidates for the Circle. Just in case. Spare material." Selena walked around me as if inspecting a mare at a fair. "Your blood is trash, of course, but you're young. And you seem hardy enough."
"What Circle? What are you talking about?"
"The one where fate is decided, beggar girl. If the girl doesn't make it to the moon, the Alpha will be offered a choice from whoever is on hand."
She shoved me again, weaker this time, but the gesture held even more contempt.
"Pray that she recovers. Because in the Circle, they will wring everything out of you, down to the last drop. You won't be taken as a wife, Alina. You'll be used as a vessel and tossed into a ditch."
Selena laughed shrilly at my deathly pale face.
"Now—get the wine. And don't make me repeat myself."
She spun on her heels and marched away, barking orders at other servants. I was left standing in the middle of the vast, cold hall. The air still held the faint scent of smoke and frost, and my traitorous body responded with a slight tremor once again.
I looked at my hands. They were dirty, calloused, and stained with wax. The bride. The Circle. Cale.
"Alina, go!" Ella nudged my shoulder, snapping me out of my trance. "Selena isn't joking. Run to the kitchen!"
I bolted, barely feeling the pain in my bruised leg. Only one thought hammered in my head: he walked past and didn't even look at me. Why then does it feel like I am still burning in his fire?
The kitchen doors slammed shut behind me, cutting off the roar of the Great Hall, but I knew this was only the beginning. The Blood Moon was approaching, and the scent of smoke would not let me go, promising either salvation or final destruction in the circle of shadows.
I grabbed a heavy tray, feeling the metal chill my fingers. I had to work. I had to be invisible. I had to disappear before they decided I was suitable for their cruel games.
But deep down, where fear mingled with that strange attraction, I knew—there would be no running away. The scent was already inside me. In my lungs. In my blood.
"Hey, you! Wine for Selena's table! Move it!"
The cook swung a ladle at me, and I habitually ducked to the side, submitting to the rhythm of my slave life, which was becoming more fragile and dangerous with every passing minute.