Chapter 10

Alesha Stokes — In Trouble?

  

Nervousness gnawed at my chest.  

The words echoed through the kitchen, and my heart pounded so hard I could feel the pulse in my throat.  

"Come on, girls!" The housekeeper’s sharp voice rang out, making me flinch. "I don’t want anyone standing around. The Supreme Alpha has already been announced, and the party has started. Don’t embarrass me!"  

My hands tightened around the tray.

I shouldn’t be here. I don’t belong in this place.  

The golden lights of the hall shone through the slightly open door, and the murmur of sophisticated voices blended with the refined music filling the air.  

I didn’t know how to act like them. I didn’t know how to walk, how to talk, how to avoid suspicious stares. All I knew was how to survive, how to hunt, how to hide. And now, surrounded by servants who seemed perfectly at ease in this world, I felt completely out of place.  

What if I dropped something? What if they looked at me and saw that I wasn’t one of them?  

My breathing grew heavy.  

"Alesha!" The housekeeper’s voice cracked like a whip. "If you keep standing there like a stump, I’ll drag you out myself!"  

I swallowed hard.  

If I refused, I’d draw attention. If I messed up, I’d draw attention. No matter what I did, I was trapped.  

Shit.  

With trembling lips, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. There was no more time to hesitate.  

One step at a time.  

I opened my eyes and walked toward the exit. The moment I stepped through the door, a deep male voice spoke beside me.  

"Good luck."  

The words were quiet, laced with amusement.  

I froze for a second and turned my head.  

The guard from before.  

His smirk was knowing, as if he could see right through my nerves. His dark eyes studied me, and something about the way he tilted his head made me feel... small.  

My heart hammered.  

Damn it.  

Forcing a shaky smile, I gave a slight nod and moved forward.  

I could still feel his gaze on me until the very last moment.  

Focus.  

I took a hesitant step into the grand hall.  

The golden lights were so bright my eyes took a moment to adjust. The scent of wine, expensive flowers, and delicate perfumes filled my senses, while elegant laughter buzzed in my ears.  

Suddenly, I wasn’t sure how to move my body.  

The weight of the tray felt doubled. My feet were stiff, as if the floor beneath me had turned to ice.  

I shifted slightly, focusing on the table beside me. The crystal glasses were perfectly aligned, the wine bottles arranged with precision, the tiny hors d'oeuvres looking like miniature works of art.  

If I just focused on the task in front of me—if I avoided looking around—I might go unnoticed.  

Maybe he was on the other side of the room, surrounded by important people, too far away to notice me.  

Maybe that was how it was meant to be—we weren’t supposed to cross paths here.  

I took a deep breath, adjusting the glasses, trying to concentrate on the muffled sounds of the party.  

But then...  

That feeling came.  

A shiver ran up my skin.  

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and an icy chill slithered down my spine.  

It was instinctive. Primal.  

Predator and prey.  

Someone had seen me. And not just seen me. Someone had locked onto me.  

My heart lurched inside my chest.  

My hand hesitated over the table, and a knot tightened in my throat.  

I could feel it.  

Someone’s eyes were on me. Intense. Unyielding.  

The air around me felt heavy, almost solid. My breathing turned shallow.  

Who?  

I didn’t need to look to know.  

My traitorous body, driven by fear and curiosity, almost gave in.  

But I forced myself to take a deep breath.  

Focus.  

My eyes remained fixed on the table in front of me, as if that perfect arrangement of glasses and trays was the most important thing in the world. My hands, however, betrayed me. A subtle tremor made my movements clumsy—one glass shifted an inch to the side, a napkin needlessly repositioned.  

He was here.  

I didn’t need to see him to know.  

The weight of his presence was suffocating, pressing in closer. The same shiver from last night, the same feeling of being hunted, of having been marked somehow.  

It was him.  

I was sure of it.  

My chest rose and fell in an anxious rhythm. My instincts screamed at me to run, to get out of there. But running wasn’t an option.  

And then, just as my body began to surrender to the impulse to look up, a movement to the side caught my attention.  

 "My word…!"  The voice carried a mix of surprise and admiration.  

An older nobleman approached me. His clothes were lavish, the rings on his fingers gleaming under the chandeliers. His smile was polite, even warm, but his eyes held something deeper—something assessing.  

 "I could have sworn I’d remember a face as enchanting as yours."  

My heart was still racing from the other gaze—the real gaze that still hadn’t let me go. But even so, I managed a polite smile, lowering my head slightly in respect.  

"Milord, is there something you desire?"  

 "Yes," he answered, his eyes never leaving mine. "I’d like to know your name."  

I blinked, momentarily thrown off, trying to process what was happening. My body was still tense, that feeling still sinking into me, making it hard to even think.  

But then, I parted my lips to respond.  

 "Alesha..."  I murmured, not understanding why my voice came out so faint.  

The man before me tilted his head, his gaze sharp as a hawk’s—analyzing, scrutinizing, as if something wasn’t quite right. He stepped in a little closer, and before I could pull back, his eyes narrowed.  

 "Interesting..."  

I shivered.  

He was focused on my eyes, watching closely. Then, I saw what he was seeing—my reflection in the glint of his pupils: a faint, muted gold, subtle, almost imperceptible.  

 "Do you have any close relatives with pure blood?"  he asked, his voice laced with genuine curiosity… but something else, too. 

My grip on the tray tightened.  

Did he figure it out? Did he see something the necklace failed to hide?  

 "What?"  

He started walking around me, studying me intently.  

"Half-blood like this is a rarity. Even among high-ranking nobles, most are mixed. But you..." He stopped behind me, and I felt his gaze sweep over my skin. "For a mere servant, that's almost an insult." 

My heart clenched. That discomfort grew, a sensation similar to that of a trapped animal.  

He stepped back in front of me, tilting his head slightly, a smile forming on his lips.  

"You don’t belong here."  

My throat went dry.  

"B-But I..."  

"If you come with me, I can treat you better," he cut me off, stepping closer, as if ready to enclose me in his space. "A place more fitting for someone like you. You don’t have to mix with the others. You’re worth more than that."  

My feet wanted to move back, but my body refused to obey. The tension held me in place. Something was wrong—very wrong.  

That feeling of being hunted intensified.  

But it wasn’t him.  

It was something else.  

And before I could react—before I could even open my mouth to refuse—he froze.  

The noble in front of me turned pale, as if he had just seen a demon. His eyes widened, his body stiffened.  

I felt a shadow rise behind me, consuming the space around me, like a mountain towering over my back.  

And I knew immediately—he was behind me.  

Then, a voice echoed through the hall.  

Low. Deep. Heavy, like thunder about to crash.  

"My servants are not for sale."  

The air thickened. The people around us stopped. The entire room seemed to hold its breath.  

And I, frozen in place, had no idea if I should keep my head down—or dare to turn and face him.