9

~Avia 

Voices and rushed footsteps outside my room forced me to rise early this morning. 

For a moment, I’m confused, as I dress quickly and stride downstairs, avoiding frantic staff who hardly have time to murmur vacant apologies at me as they pass. The main foyer downstairs is far more busy, many people separated into small groups as they talk fill the space, none bothering to look up as I join them, looking for anyone I know who can give me answers. 

Spotting Isaiah at the other end of the room, speaking to some unfamiliar face, I walk to meet him, hoping I don’t have to awkwardly stand behind him while he talks. Mercifully, the sullen looking man he was speaking to gives him a farewell nod and moves onto another group, allowing me to occupy the Alpha’s intention instead. 

"What's with all the commotion?" I ask, motioning to all the well-dressed people. Isaiah too is well-dressed, opting for a black jacket with a crimson under shirt, each wave to his ebony hair smooth and purposefully placed. 

"Important people are here," he says, as if he suspects someone should be listening into our conversation. Then his tone drops a note deeper as he speaks lowly to me. "Zire should have briefed you."

I blink. "He did."

Now that Isaiah mentions it, Zire did mention it to me a couple days ago. All these people are here for a meeting about attaining land in rural districts of the Pack, which is allegedly promising. Whatever they plan to use it for, I don’t care, it’s land being taken from the farmers, from those who had it passed down to them through generations. It took everything in me to quietly nod along with what Zire was saying, trying not to react. 

"I wouldn't have taken your bed to be the best place to conduct meetings about work..." Isaiah mutters coldly. I think about last night, the words Zire and I exchanged. Isaiah interrupted us at a compromising point, so I can imagine what he is thinking.

It benefits me, I realise, for him to think something is happening between Zire and I. 

"We weren't talking about work,” I respond easily, training my gaze on a pretty woman conversing with another, both looking bored of the crowd around them. Likewise. 

Isaiah grabs my sheer sleeve of my dress, tugging it gently to get my attention. "What were you talking about?"

I glance at him, and for once, I see a hint of vulnerability within him. I’ve decided I like the way his deep, forest green eyes glisten when he is intrigued by me, and how the depths of gaze reveal hints to what he is thinking. He won’t admit it, but he has been thinking about Zire and I, and it’s been bothering him. 

"Am I sitting in on this meeting, or just taking photos?" I ask instead, not wanting to divulge him in any details of Zire and I’s relationship. The truth wouldn’t work, anyway. Zire is seemingly on to me, and I blatantly threatened him.

Isaiah pauses, letting me bathe in a single, small victory, before he straightens, sighing through his nose. "Whatever you like."

"I'll sit in." The more information I get, the better. 

"You won't be familiar with any of these people, and name's are not important," Isaiah explains, motioning to the group of people before us, still stuck in conversation. Names would be nice, so members of the Rebellion could do some investigating, but I’m not going to push it. Not when Zire has shaken my confidence. "I'm signing off on a deal to start construction on a new factory."

So that’s what the land is for. I slather a pretty smile onto my face, trying not to sound sardonic. "Wonderful."

"Hmm,” Isaiah merely muses, before turning to speak to someone as they approach them.

Only a few minutes later, everyone was hoarded into the formal dining area for the meeting. Everyone was served wine and platters of food was laid out to be picked from, most speaking about anything other than the land and the factories to be built on them. I sit right next to Isaiah, avoiding the probing gazes of everyone around me, trying not to think about the fact that any one of them could know of Kenna’s real identity and reveal me as the fraud I am to Isaiah. 

"Isaiah...Where is your father?" a man from across the table asks, catching a few of our attention. Isaiah shifts uncomfortably, however bears that standard Alpha mask upon his face expertly. 

"Away," he responds smoothly, although I don’t miss the way his fist clenches around his fork. "We don't need his authority, though."

The man speaking to him as if he is below the position of the Alpha is an older man with grey hair and an overindulgent eye, which shifts to me. My shoulders stiffen, my heart racing. I don’t care who this man is, but there is something about the way he looks at me, judges me that has an uncomfortable weight settling in the pit of my stomach. 

"Who are you?" he asks gruffly, wiping the slight stain of wine from his upper lip. 

"Alder's daughter. She's going to make a speech to some cameras,” Isaiah responds for me. I don’t look at him, even though I am grateful for him taking attention from me. He’s likely used to being judged by these people, all of high standing no doubt. 

"Great!" the man exclaims, laughing hoarsely. He nudges the man next to him, but he doesn’t react, more concerned with Isaiah’s rank than the other, it seems. "Good to see you're getting others to do your dirty work, just like your father."

"It's my signature you need, remember?" Isaiah mutters flippantly, as if he is unbothered, yet I don’t believe that.

"Don't pretend you are anything more than what your father wants you to be,” the man growls, turning from joyous in mocking him, to sinister and cold. 

I shiver. I get the feeling Isaiah could kill each of these men right here with his bare hands if he felt so inclined. He towers over them all, his stature impressive, and not just in comparison to theirs. Yet he continues to not react, looking away from the man with nothing but boredom in his eyes. With bated breath, everyone in close enough proximity waits until Isaiah gestures for them to continue their discussions. 

The meeting continues for another few hours, borning uninformative. I was hoping for something of value, but right now the Rebellion needs to concentrate on this mission, not another to deal with all these hopeless excuses for men and women. 

I catch up to Isaiah as everyone disperses at the end of the day, walking beside him out of the dining room. "They don't like you very much, do they?"

His eyes are cold as he looks down at me. "They don't know me."

***

I’m laying on my bed, flipping through a book when the curtain covering my open window is pulled away. 

Flinching, I get to my feet, until I realise with relief that it’s Malin, quickly followed by Kadrick, who she begrudgingly helps through the window. We had discussed a route for them to get in here. With me in this room, they are free to enter here only, to speak to me. Although I thought we were going to do a few trial runs along the perimeter before they came right in here. 

"Malin...What are you doing?" I gasp, rushing to close the door that was slightly ajar. 

"We haven't heard from you, so we came to make sure you were okay,” Kadrick exclaims, wincing from what must have been a difficult climb up the thin trellis outside. I want to be relieved to see such familiar faces after the day I have, but I’m anxious to see them in this place. 

"I'm fine," I mutter quietly, looking at Malin. "Did you know how little of a say Isaiah gets in political matters?"

"What makes you say that?" she says, frowning. She didn’t know that, and neither did I. Malin hates being a few steps behind, and me being here as revealed we don’t know as much as we thought we did. 

"I sat in on one of his meetings and he didn't even read the papers they handed him. He just signed,” I explain, folding my arms over my chest. He didn’t even participate in conversation, or pretend to seem vaguely interested. I would have assumed something of such importance would be for the Alpha only to decide, yet it was up to all those wealthy men and women who are getting far too much out of it. 

Kadrick steps forward, unkempt brown hair getting too long around his ears. "I'm sure he is well aware of the damage he causes."

"None of those there liked him very much either,” I mutter, thinking about how they mocked him, how they presumed he was weak and unworthy as Alpha. Is it because he is young? He is not weak, by any standard, and from what I know, not foolish either. They spoke highly of his father, so I would think he would demand they respect their son in his absence...Yet, it’s as if Isaiah’s name has been poisoned to them, instead. 

Malin steps forward, grabbing a hold of my shoulders in a grip so tight it makes me wince. "Wake up Avia, no one likes him."

"I know..." I snap, brushing her off me, not wanting to look into those frightfully dark eyes, not when she is angry. "I just want to know more."

"Time is of the essence," she reminds me. "Get to him, and find out more now."

I nod quietly, glancing at Kadrick. Malin turns toward the window, figuring I have no other information for her, yet Kadrick lingers for a moment longer. He looks as though he wants to say more to me, but instead, follows Malin out the window without a goodbye.

This business is cold and unfortunate. And I just can’t wait for it to be over.