The weight of Shadows

Leah's POV 

A sharp knock at the door pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts. My heart raced in my chest, and my fingers instinctively into fists. For a brief moment, I was thought it was him—Alpha keal, dark and brooding, storming in to confront me about something. Coming to continue what he’d started earlier.

The memory of his touch still lingered on my skin, unwanted and invasive. I shivered, the thought of him coming back, sent a wave of nausea rolling through me. Was he here to push me again, to force me into having sex again with him, ignoring the lines I’d tried so desperately to draw? My heart raced, a mix of fear, anger, and something I couldn’t name clawing at my insides.

But when the door finally creaked open, it wasn’t the Alpha.

Instead, a young woman stepped into the room. She was petite, with a slender figure that seemed more due to lack of food than natural delicacy. Her skin was dusky, a warm caramel tone marred by faint scars across her forearms, likely from burns. Her outfit was simple—a plain gray dress with an apron tied snugly around her waist, stained with traces of flour and herbs.

The way she moved was careful, almost cautious, as if she were walking through a minefield. She shut the door behind her with her foot, her gaze flickering up to meet mine briefly before darting away again. Her brown eyes scanned  the room, taking in the sparse furnishings, before finally resting on me.

“Good evening, ma’am,” she said softly, her voice carrying a melodic accent that I couldn’t quite place. Her words were formal, but there was a gentleness to her tone that caught me off guard.

“Yes?” I asked cautiously, still on edge from my earlier thoughts and the fear that Keal might still show up.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” she began, stepping further inside and carefully balancing a tray in her hands. The aroma me before I even saw the contents—roasted meat, fresh bread, and a bowl of steaming soup. “The Alpha sent me. He thought you might be hungry.”

I blinked, caught completely off guard. The Alpha? My mouth opened, but no words came out for a moment.

“The Alpha sent you?” I repeated, unsure if I’d heard her right.

“Yes, ma’am,” she replied, nodding as she set the tray down on the small table near the window. “He said you’ve been busy healing his wound and probably haven’t had the time to eat.” She paused, as if considering whether to add more, then continued softly, “And it’s already night. He thought you might not have eaten.”

Night? I turned my gazs toward the window, noticing for the first time how dark it had become outside. The sky was a deep indigo, dotted with faint stars that twinkled like tiny dots of light. I hadn’t even realized how long I’d been here, wrapped in my thought and frustration.

The woman moved toward the table, setting the tray down with deliberate care. Her movements were practiced, efficient, but I noticed the slight shake in her hands. She was nervous.

“I brought some soup, bread, and a little stew. I hope it’s to your liking,” she said, glancing at me again nervously.

The smell hit me then—rich and warm, with the faint spice of pepper. It was the kind of meal that reminded me of home, of comfort, though I doubted this place had ever felt comforting to anyone. My stomach growled loudly in response, and I flushed, realizing how long it had been since I’d eaten.

“Thank you,” I murmured, my gaze lingering on the tray. The food smelled divine, but the idea that Alpha Keal had been considerate enough to send it made me uneasy. Why would he care? Was this his way of apologizing? Of manipulating me? I pushed the thought aside, too drained to analyze his motives.

The woman stayed near the table, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She hesitated for a moment, as if unsure whether to leave or say more. Finally, she sqaured her shoulders and looked at me again, her expression curious but guarded.

“Are you… are you the herbalist? The one healing the Alpha?”

“Yes,” I replied, studying her face more closely. She was young, maybe barely twenty, with weary eyes and thin cheeks that suggested she didn’t eat as much as she served. Her hair was dark brown, tied back into a low, messy bun, with a few strands curling rebelliously around her face. But there was a warmth in her hazel eyes, a spark of curiosity that made her seem less like a servant and more like someone looking for a connection.

“That’s amazing,” she said, a small smile breaking through her timid demeanor. “The Alpha doesn’t trust people easily, you know. Let alone someone new.”

I didn’t know how to reply  to that. Trust? Was it trust that had brought me here? Or something else entirely?

The silence stretched between us for a moment, neither of us quite sure what to say. Finally, she gave a small curtsy. “Well, I should get back to the kitchen. If you need anything else, just—”

She stopped, her hand on the door handle, and turned back to me, her expression shifting slightly. “Miss?”

My stomach growled loudly in reply, making me flush as I realized how long it had been since my last meal. My stomach growled softly, revealing my hunger. 

“Yes?”

“Would you… would you mind if we talked for a bit?” she asked nervously. “I don’t mean to bother you, but… it’s been a long day, and you seem kind. I’d like to chat, if that’s all right.”

Her words caught me off guard. I wasn’t used to anyone approaching me so openly, let alone someone from the Alpha’s household. But there was something genuine in her tone, something that made it hard for me to say no.

“All right,” I said, offering her a faint smile. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Her face brightened up with relief, and she stepped back into the room, shutting the door softly behind her. For a moment, the tension in my chest eased, though I couldn’t shake the lingering fear that the Alpha might still come back.

The young woman’s smile was nervous but warm as she returned to her seat near the small table, folding her hands neatly in her lap. Her timid energy, mixed with a curiosity that seemed to radiate from her hazel eyes, made me feel slightly more at ease. The room was silent except for the faint rustling of leaves outside the window and the crackling of the fireplace.

"What's your name? She asked." 

“My name is Leah,” I began, leaning forward slightly, hoping to bridge the awkwardness. “I suppose you already know that, though.”

She nodded quickly, her gaze darting up to meet mine before looking away. “Yes, Miss Leah. I overheard the Alpha mention your name earlier.”

“And you?” I asked, tilting my head slightly, trying to soften my voice. “What’s your name?”

She hesitated, as if caught off guard by the question. “Rosa,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “My name is Rosa.”

“That’s a Lovely name, Rosa,” I said with a faint smile. “How long have you been working here?”

Her hands fidgeted with the edge of her apron, a flicker of something dark crossing her features. “Ten years,” she said finally, her tone resigned. “I came here when I was… well, not much older than a child.”

I tried to mask my surprise, though the weight of her words settled uncomfortably in my chest. Ten years? In a place like this? It was hard to imagine how someone could endure such a life for so long.

“Ten years,” I repeated softly, my gaze searching hers. “That’s a long time. Were you born here?”

She shook her head. “No. My parents were traders. We traveled a lot when I was little. But one day, during a full moon… we were caught by a pack patrol.” Her voice trembled, and she took a shaky breath. “My parents didn’t survive.”

“I’m so sorry,” I muttered, feeling a wave of sympathy for her. “That must have been… terrible.”

She nodded, her expression distant for a brief moment before she seemed to shake herself out of it. “It happened a long time ago. I’ve learned to live with it.”