Chapter 11: For A Reason

Chapter 11: For A Reason Kaya My heart sinks somewhere deep in my chest as I stare into his eyes—sharp, piercing, and impossibly deep. They are the color of the whiskey I just spilled on his shoes, rich and golden, yet darkened by something unreadable. I don’t know how long I stand there, locked in his gaze, but the longer he looks at me, the more I feel myself being drawn in—pulled under, as if drowning in amber depths. Everything else fades away, the room, the people, even my own fear. And then, it changes. His face, lean with high cheekbones, grows impossibly tense. As if the bones beneath his skin have sharpened. His full lips press into a firm, unyielding line. The warmth in his honey-colored eyes vanishes, replaced by something chilling and hollow, as if a single drop of black ink has tainted their golden glow, marring their beauty. The heartbreaking sadness I glimpsed just moments ago is gone. In its place, something suffocating unfurls. The air thickens, coiling around my throat like unseen hands. A slow rustle of fabric from across the room tells me that Alpha Storm feels it too. A low, uneasy rumble vibrates from his chest, betraying his discomfort. Though maybe—just maybe—his reaction has nothing to do with Reiner at all. Maybe it’s because I’m the one serving them instead of Shelly. "What are you waiting for?" Storm suddenly snaps, his sharp eyes drilling into me like a hundred invisible needles. "Get your ass down and clean this mess!" His voice trembles, just slightly, but enough for me to catch it. This outburst, it’s not just frustration. It’s an attempt to cut through this unnatural tension, to shove everything back into place. Because Alpha Reiner is here for a reason. And the sooner he deals with it, the better. For some reason, I find myself turning back to Magnus, as if instinctively seeking his command, as if his word could overrule Alpha Storm’s. A flicker of awareness returns to Magnus’s eyes, the eerie darkness vanishing as his amber gaze regains its usual luster. Then, for the first time, he speaks. "There is no need." The deep timbre of his voice sends a shiver down my spine. Cold, measured, almost menacing. And yet, my heart melts, its remnants pooling inside me like molten gold. His voice is like music, even in its restrained severity. I want to hear more. Even if his words are nothing but orders, I wouldn’t mind submitting to them. But the moment is shattered by a guttural grunt from Storm. Rough. Disruptive. Like the scrape of a rusted blade cutting between us. "With all due respect, Alpha Reiner, this is my house," he says, his voice laced with challenge. "I give the orders here. At least when it comes to my maids." Shock locks my breath in my throat. Alpha Reiner—one of the most feared and revered alphas in the entire werewolf kingdom—is being spoken to like this? And by Storm, of all people? A rogue. A murderer. A man who exists solely at the mercy of the Lycan King. And Magnus is supposed to be his son. What is he thinking, talking to him like that? To my surprise, Magnus does nothing but frown. Then, without a word, he shakes the liquor off his shoe and lowers himself back into his seat, as if the insult were nothing more than a passing breeze. The tension in my body unravels, leaving me weak. My hands tremble as I kneel to gather the broken glass, but my fingers are clumsy and useless. The fabric of my dress drags against the whiskey-soaked floor, absorbing the liquid, and with it, the tiny, glinting shards of glass. Ugh. Maybe I should’ve worn that maid’s dress after all. I work as quickly as I can, knowing Alpha Storm is likely waiting for me to finish so he can resume his conversation. But just as I expect silence, he speaks again—this time, as if I don’t even exist. "So... you were about to explain why your men crossed the rogue border without prior notice, Alpha Reiner." I keep my head down, pretending not to listen. But it’s useless. The room is so eerily quiet that every word seems to reverberate off the walls, loud enough to make me wonder if even the people outside can hear them. Alpha Reiner clears his throat. Then, leaning back in his chair, he speaks, his voice smooth, composed. "There was an ambush on the Western Road. Alpha Arcanis’s procession was attacked on its way back to his territory. Everyone was found dead." My hands still, but I don’t dare look up. Across from me, Alpha Storm shifts in his chair, his tone losing its earlier confidence. "Is there a continuation to this statement?" Rude moron. Magnus barely reacts to the disrespect. "The ambush happened on neutral ground," he continues, "but the escape trail leads straight to your house. Care to explain, Alpha Storm?" A long, heavy silence follows. The air presses down on my back like a crushing weight. I want to scream. I want to leap to my feet and confess everything. I was there! It was him! It was the Diamond Claw! They killed them all and took me and Shelly hostage! Help me! Take me away from here! But I don’t. Because if I do... I might not live to see what happens next. While my inner voice screams at me, I barely register that I’ve already picked myself up. I’m standing upright now, my hands trembling as I clutch the round tray, the broken shards rattling against its surface like a warning. Magnus’s gaze snaps back to me, and for a fleeting moment, I see something in his amber eyes—an unspoken question. Does he already know? "Leave the room," Alpha Storm nearly shouts, his voice laced with irritation. "Go fetch another drink for Alpha Reiner. And don’t fuck up this time." This time, Magnus doesn’t intervene. I have no choice but to obey. My heart pounds as I step toward the door, a war raging inside me. What if I just told him? What if I opened my mouth and laid everything bare—the truth about Alpha Steven’s murder? Would Magnus even care? After all, I’m nothing but a lowly omega. Just a whore. At least, that’s what Camilla likes to say. A short, shaky sigh escapes me as I step outside. My entire body is strung so tight that I fear one wrong move might shatter me. I start to turn toward the kitchen—then freeze. Jack isn’t here. No one is. The hallway is empty. Silent. I hold my breath. And listen.