Chapter 14.

Kira's POV

The maid and I walk across the grounds, and I can't help but silently admire how well-maintained everything is. The stone paths are spotless, and lanterns cast a soft golden glow across the property. Crimson Crown feels less like a pack and more like a kingdom.

“You must be exhausted,” the maid says kindly, breaking the silence.

“I am,” I admit, my voice quieter than I intended.

“My name’s Martha, by the way,” she adds with a warm smile. “I’ll be helping you get settled here.”

“Thank you, Martha, I'm Kira.” I say softly, grateful for her kindness.

“Well, Kira let’s get you settled,” Martha says with a smile.

We stop at a side entrance of the mansion, and Martha leads me inside. I expect dark, cold corridors and cramped rooms — something barely livable — but instead, I’m greeted by a surprisingly warm and inviting space. The hallway is lined with polished wooden floors, and the walls are painted a soft cream color. The air smells faintly of lavender.

“This is it,” Martha stops at a door and gestures for me to step inside. I hesitate, expecting a tiny room with a hard mattress and little else. But when I walk in, my breath catches.

The room is... beautiful.

A large bed with fresh linens sits beneath a wide window that offers a view of the pack's courtyard. A small wooden desk and chair are neatly positioned against the wall, and there's even a wardrobe — something I never had back home. A cozy rug covers part of the floor, and the entire room smells clean and fresh.

“This... this is for me?” I ask in disbelief.

Martha chuckles softly. “Of course. Crimson Crown takes care of its staff because we take care of everyone else.”

I swallow hard, struggling to process it. I honestly expected to be dumped in a cold, miserable space — not... this.

“Can I get you something to eat?” Martha asks gently. “I imagine you haven’t eaten all day.”

I nod slowly, my stomach growling in agreement. “That... that would be nice. Thank you.”

Her smile widens. “I’ll be right back, then.”

As she leaves, I sit on the edge of the bed, sinking into the soft mattress. The tension in my shoulders eases slightly, but my mind still races.

Why is Damian being so cruel when his father and brother don't seem half as terrible?

I glance at the window, watching the dark silhouette of the mansion's main wing in the distance.

And why does his brother seem to care more about me than my own mate does?

***

The next morning, a sharp knock at my door jolts me awake. I blink against the morning light streaming through the window, my body is still sore from yesterday’s long ride.

“Up you get,” Martha says gently as she steps into my room, carrying a small bucket filled with cleaning supplies. “Prince Damian wants you to clean his room this morning.”

I sit up, confused. “Me?”

She nods, setting the bucket down by my feet. “He asked for you specifically.”

I frown. Why would Damian ask for me when there are plenty of trained staff who can do it better than I can since it's my first day here? Whatever the reason, I know better than to question him...

Minutes later, I’m standing outside his door, dressed in a servant uniform and clutching the bucket tightly. My pulse races as I raise my hand and knock.

“Prince Damian, it's Kira.”

“Come in,” Damian’s voice calls from the other side.

I take a deep breath, push the door open, and step inside only to freeze.

Damian isn’t alone.

He’s half-sitting up in bed, shirtless, with his arm lazily draped around a beautiful woman with long dark hair cascading over her bare shoulders. She leans against him like she belongs there, a smug smile curling on her lips when her eyes meet mine.

My stomach twists painfully.

“You’re late,” Damian says coldly, his gaze hard and indifferent. He gestures toward the floor. “Now, clean.”

I can’t move. My fingers tighten around the handle of the bucket as I struggle to keep my face neutral.

Why is Damian tormenting me like this?

The woman, still smirking, leans closer to Damian, running her fingers along his chest as if to remind me exactly where I stand.

My vision blurs. I’m not sure if it’s anger or heartbreak, but I can’t stay here.

“I'm sorry but... I’ll come back later,” I mumble, my voice shaking. Without waiting for a response, I spin around and hurry out, my breath coming in short, uneven bursts.

I barely make it a few steps down the hallway when I collide with something — or someone. The bucket clatters to the floor, and before I can react, I find myself landing awkwardly... in someone's lap.

“Whoa, easy there,” a familiar voice says.

I blink through the tears and look up — right into Julian’s silver eyes.

His arms are around me, steadying me, but his brow furrows when he notices my face.

“You’re crying,” he says softly.

I shake my head quickly, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand. “I’m fine,” I whisper, trying to get up.

But Julian doesn’t let go.

“No,” he says firmly. “You’re not.”

I’m still in Julian’s lap, his arms loosely around me, when Damian’s voice cuts through the hallway.

“Kira!”

I stiffen. Heart racing, I scramble to get up, but Julian’s hold tightens just enough to keep me steady.

“Kira!” Damian’s voice comes again, sharper this time. I glance over my shoulder and see him striding toward us — shirtless, with that smug woman from his bed trailing behind him, lazily wrapping a robe around her.

“What the hell are you doing?” Damian growls, his eyes narrowing at Julian.

“What does it look like?” Julian fires back, his voice cold. “I’m comforting someone you clearly don’t care about.”

“That’s rich,” Damian scoffs, folding his arms. “You don’t even know her.”

Julian’s jaw tightens. “I know enough to see she’s miserable with you.”

“You’re really playing hero now?” Damian sneers. “Since when do you give a damn about what happens in my life?”

“I don’t,” Julian snaps. “But I sure as hell won’t stand by while you treat your mate like—”

“She’s not my mate!” Damian barks, his eyes flashing dangerously. “I rejected her, remember?”

The tension crackles like a live wire. My breath feels trapped in my chest. The smug woman chuckles softly behind Damian, clearly enjoying the scene.

“You rejected her, yet here you are, chasing her down the hall,” Julian taunts. “Feeling a little possessive?”

Damian steps closer, eyes blazing. “Watch it, Julian.”

“Or what?” Julian’s fingers curl into the armrests of his wheelchair, his voice low and dangerous.

“Enough!”

The deep, thunderous voice freezes us all in place.

I turn to see Alpha Magnus standing at the end of the corridor, his powerful presence filling the space. His icy gaze sweeps between Damian and Julian before locking onto me.

“What,” he says slowly, “is going on here?”