Aire blinked, staring at Torak.
Her legs trembled beneath her, as her knees threatened to give out. She swallowed hard, relief blooming bitterly in her chest that she wouldn't be forced to share a room with any of them. The thought alone made her skin crawl.
Sleep.
She needed sleep.
Her feet lifted hesitantly, following the Beta wherever he led, even though every instinct screamed that nothing good waited for her in this place. Her body ached, exhaustion pressing down on her bones like a physical weight.
"One more thing."
Alaric's voice sliced through the air.
Aire froze mid-step.
"Do not miss dinner," he said coolly. "Don't be late for even a second. You should be down before we make our appearance—in the next three hours."
Dinner?
Aire turned slightly, confusion flickering across her face. It was too early for breakfast. Too late for dinner. Her stomach clenched at the mention of food, hunger flaring sharp and sudden now that it had been acknowledged.
She hadn't had anything to eat the day before the previous day, the previous day, and today. Starvation had always been her Uncle's hobby.
"This way."
The Beta's clipped voice snapped her attention forward before she could think further.
She forced her legs to move.
Each step felt heavier than the last, as her fear grew with every corridor they passed. Her head spun faintly, vision blurring at the edges, but she kept walking. Stopping didn't feel like an option especially with the hate positioned towards her.
The estate unfolded around her as they moved deeper inside.
Endless stone corridors lined with towering arches. High ceilings etched with symbols she didn't recognize.
The windows were tall enough to swallow her whole, letting in muted moonlight that cast long shadows across the polished floors. Everything was massive as though the place had been designed to make anyone smaller than an Alpha feel insignificant.
She caught glimpses of courtyards, and staircases that spiraled endlessly upward, and hallways branching into more hallways.
Aire lost all sense of direction.
By the time they reached the guest wing, her body was screaming.
Her legs burned. Her shoulders sagged. Hunger gnawed viciously at her stomach, twisting it into tight knots. Anger simmered beneath her exhaustion.
Torak stopped abruptly in front of a large double door.
Aire barely managed not to stumble into him.
Torak turned on her. His expression twisted in open disgust and without warning, he grabbed her hand.
Aire gasped sharply as he seized her finger. His grip was harsh, and impersonal. She didn't even have time to protest before he pressed her fingertip against a glowing panel embedded in the door.
The system beeped.
Her fingerprint registered.
The doors slid open immediately.
"This will be your room," Torak said flatly. His tone was really passed and dismissive.
Aire turned toward him, words rushing to the tip of her tongue. She wanted to ask questions but before she could speak, he was already walking away.
She watched, stunned, as he pulled a cloth from his pocket and began sanitizing his hand mid-stride, his face twisted in revulsion. A soft hiss of disgust left him as he disappeared down the corridor.
The doors slid shut behind her.
Aire stood there for a long moment before turning slowly back to the room.
She stepped inside, and stopped.
The was… decent. More than decent infact. The room was a large bed with clean linens. A sitting area by the window. Heavy curtains, and a wardrobe made of polished wood. There was soft lighting instead of cold stone torches.
The room was nothing like the foul, cramped shed she'd stayed in back home. This place was decent.
Her chest tightened unexpectedly.
Before she could process the emotion, a sharp knock sounded at the door. She barely had time to turn when it opened.
Four women walked in.
Their expressions ranged from annoyed to openly disgusted.
Two of them dropped what they'd been carrying the moment they saw her—clean towels, folded fabric—and immediately turned around and left without a word, as though she didn't exist.
The remaining two stayed.
One was older.
She had steel in her spine and ice in her eyes. Her presence alone commanded the room, sharp and unyielding. She scanned Aire from head to toe like an object being scanned.
There was no greeting, nor acknowledgment.
"I am the madam of this wing," the woman said crisply.
Without waiting for Aire's response, she turned to the younger maid beside her. "Prepare the bath. Hot. Immediately."
Another woman entered at her command, then another.
Orders followed rapidly, efficient, clipped, and absolute. Fresh water, oils, clothing, and silence filled the room.
Aire stood there, confused, overwhelmed, and exhausted.
The madam finally turned back to her, unimpressed.
Her gaze was sharp. "Strip." She commanded.
The single word cracked like a whip.
Aire stiffened. "I—I can take care of myself," she said quickly, panic flaring.
The madam's lips thinned.
She cast a knowing look at the maids, and they moved instantly.
Two of them grabbed Aire, their grip iron-strong. She struggled, her breath hitching as they tore her clothes from her body with no regard for modesty.
"Breeder," the madam said coldly.
The word burned.
Aire clenched her teeth, humiliation flooding her as they dragged her into the bathroom. She didn't scream.
They scrubbed her raw without mercy.
They used rough cloth against her skin, and extremely hot water. Their hands didn't care if she flinched or bled. They washed her like something dirty, and unclean. Her skin stung, raw and sensitive.
Her hair was combed harshly, and it caused her scalp aching.
She stayed silent.
When they were finished, they dressed her in a simple blue dress.
"Here are the rules." Once more, the madam parted her lips. "Respect the Alphas. Never speak out of turn. Never look them in the eyes unless addressed. Never forget her place. And most importantly, you're not allowed to eat without them at the dining table."
"It's time for dinner," the madam said finally.
Aire could barely walk when she stood up.
She dragged herself through endless hallways with the maids, and once again, every step heavier than the last. When they reached the dining hall, it was empty.
The Alphas weren't there.
She sat, and waited.
Minutes passed into an hour.
Her stomach growled painfully, as hunger clawed at her insides. Her fists clenched in her lap.
Another hour passed, still nothing.
Finally, a maid approached her hesitantly.
"The Alphas won't be joining tonight," she said.
Aire's stomach twisted violently.
Her breath shook.
Under her breath, voice hoarse with exhaustion and rage, she muttered, "Dipshit Alphas."