The next morning I heard it by accident. Two servants were speaking near the laundry room when I passed.
“The Alpha asked about her again this morning.”
“He wanted to know if she ate.”
“He has been asking more often.”
I stopped walking. My heart gave a strange, uncomfortable beat.
Deucalion had asked about me.
The same man who could barely look at me for weeks. The same man who told me the marriage was only duty.
The same man who moved me into the guest room the moment Aria arrived.
Why was he asking about me now? I walked away before the servants noticed me.
All day the question stayed in my head. I tried to ignore it. I tried to tell myself it meant nothing.
But the more I thought about it, the more restless I became.
By late afternoon I could no longer sit still.
I needed an
