Back in her chamber, Aliyah sat in silence, hands clenched in her lap. She couldn't believe it—Leo had looked at her and turned away. After everything… after the bond. She had felt it surge between them, wild and ancient, when she spoke to him.
He had to feel it too.
He had to recognize her.
And yet, he acted like she was no one. Just another servant.
Her chest ached. She was furious. Hurt. Confused. But beneath it all… relieved. If he had acknowledged her in front of everyone, it could've caused chaos. Questions. Maybe even danger.
Still, that didn't dull the sting of his indifference.
---
That evening, Alpha Leo was escorted to his private chamber—lavish and dimly lit with golden lanterns. The air was warm, laced with spiced oils. A bathing pool shimmered at the far end, steaming gently. The bed was draped in silks, the cushions arranged for comfort, seduction, power.
Two women awaited him, dressed in sheer garments that clung to their skin. They bowed as he entered.
Beta Garrick followed. "Will this arrangement suit you, Alpha? Or do you require anything more?"
Leo's eyes flicked past the women without interest. "Yes. Send the one who served earlier. Aliyah. I enjoyed her cooking."
Garrick paused, then nodded. "Of course. I'll have her sent."
Once he left, the women moved closer, sensual and slow.
"It's our honor to care for you tonight," one said. "We've drawn your bath… let us ease you."
Without waiting, they unclasped his cloak, their hands bold, practiced. Leo allowed it, silent and unreadable.
They undressed him, trailing their fingers over his chest, arms, and down to his hips. Each movement slow. Measured. Tempting.
He stepped into the water, the heat rising around him. One woman knelt beside him, washing his skin with a damp cloth—his chest, his back, his thighs. The other poured scented oils, then massaged his shoulders, her fingers gliding smoothly, skillfully.
They whispered compliments, praise for his strength, his reign. Their hands drifted lower under the water.
Leo closed his eyes—not in pleasure, but detachment. His body relaxed. His mind wandered.
To her.
To Dara.
---
At the Beta's chamber, Aliyah bowed. "You called for me, Beta?"
Garrick studied her. "I did. There must be something… unusual about you."
Her heart stilled.
"Or perhaps," he said slowly, "something connected. Deeper than we see."
Aliyah kept her eyes lowered.
"I saw how Alpha Leo looked at you. He didn't blink. He didn't waver. It was as if he knew you."
She didn't speak. Fear coiled tight in her chest.
But Garrick only nodded. "Prepare something light. Take it to the Alpha's chamber. He asked for you."
Aliyah nodded quickly.
"Be careful," he said as she turned. The warning lingered.
---
Later that night, Aliyah entered Leo's chamber, a tray in hand. The air was thick with steam, flickering candlelight, and something heavier—intimate tension.
She froze.
One of the women leaned close, her fingers tracing Leo's chest. The other whispered in his ear. He didn't push them away. He tilted his head, lips brushing the woman's cheek.
Aliyah's chest tightened. Her grip on the tray turned white-knuckled.
Still, she moved forward, placing the tray on the table with care.
"I've brought your meal, Alpha," she said softly.
No reply. No glance. Just soft splashes, low laughter, and Leo's silence.
She bowed. "Shall I serve, or do you prefer privacy?"
Still nothing.
Then, finally, Leo spoke. "You may wait. I might have need of you."
Aliyah stepped back, standing by the wall, eyes fixed low. Her heart pounded as the women continued, their laughter brushing against her like knives.
But then—she felt it.
His gaze. On her.
Minutes passed.
Finally, the women rose and wrapped themselves in silks. Leo stood, water cascading down his form. He waved the women off without a word.
The door shut.
Silence.
"Look at me," he said.
She obeyed, slowly lifting her gaze.
His amber eyes locked onto hers. Not soft. Not kind.
Accusing.
"Why did you leave?" he asked. "Why lie? Why change your name?"
Aliyah's lips parted—but no sound came.
He stepped closer, drying his arms. "I asked you a question, Dara."
The name hit her like a shock.
Tears welled. "You… remember?"
"I never forgot." His voice was cold. "You left a note. One stain on the corner—like a tear."
Her throat tightened.
"My wolf knew. Even when I didn't want to believe it. I felt it again the moment you walked in. The bond. Don't deny it."
Aliyah shook her head faintly. "I didn't lie. Not completely."
He scoffed. "Brothers? Since when did you have brothers, Dara?"
Aliyah froze. The lie unraveling.
"They were the two guards," she said quietly. "The ones your mother—Luna Rosetta—sent with me. They were told to… remove me from the pack."
Leo's jaw clenched. He didn't speak for a long moment.
"And only you escaped?"
"It was sudden. A beast attacked. I ran. I didn't see them fall… but I heard their screams."
Silence. Heavy and sharp.
Leo searched her. Every breath. Every blink. Looking for the lie.
He found only pain.
Eventually, he stepped back, folding his arms. "Strange," he said quietly, "how fate spares the one it was meant to abandon."
Aliyah nodded. "Yes."
Another pause.
Then, without turning, he poured himself a glass of wine.
"Your absence broke me, Dara."
Aliyah's breath hitched.
"I waited. I searched. Then I buried you." He looked back at her. "Now you stand here, wearing another name, serving me like a stranger."
She stepped forward. "I didn't have a choice."
"You had me," he snapped.
The silence that followed was electric.
Then Leo exhaled. His voice dropped. "Leave the food. Go."
Aliyah bowed, tears slipping down her cheeks. She turned and walked out, slow and silent, her heart splintering with every step.
Behind her, Leo didn't move.
He stared at the door long after it closed, her scent still lingering in the air. A bond he thought long dead now throbbed like a reopened wound.
His jaw clenched.
No wonder Mother never cared to search. All she ever said was, "Forget her."
The wine in his hand suddenly felt pointless. He set it down.
He wasn't just angry—he was gutted.
And for the first time in years, Leo didn't know whether to mourn… or to burn the truth down to its roots.