Chapter 37 The Mouse Roars

Chapter 37 The Mouse Roars
Calistra’s POV

I stood still for a moment.

She had sent me all the way to the other end of the packhouse for a shawl; she had changed her mind about it. I had walked the full length of a cold stone corridor and back for absolutely nothing. The silver hum under my skin ticked upward like a flame catching dry wood.

"Of course," I said, keeping my voice controlled.

"Is there anything else you require, Lady Elena?"

Elena tilted her head to one side and looked at me properly for the first time since I'd walked in.

A slow smile spread across her face. Not a nice smile. The kind of smile a cat gives a mouse before deciding to play with it for a while before the end.

"Actually, yes," she said, setting her wine glass down with a small click.

"Come closer."

I took two steps forward.

Elena looked me up and down slowly, taking her time, like she was inspecting livestock at a market.

Her gaze dragged from the top of my head down to my feet and back up again, and she did absolutely nothing to hide how unimpressed she was with what she saw.

"You know," Elena said conversationally, reaching out to pick up her wine glass again, "I had maids in Shadow Creek. Good ones. Trained ones. They knew how to enter a room quietly, how to stand properly, how to hold their face still.

They understood that their entire job was to be as invisible as possible while still being useful."

She paused and looked at me over the rim of her glass.

"You could learn something from them. The way you walked in just now, with your back too straight, looking around like you belong here, it's a bit much.

It reads as arrogance. Omegas shouldn't look arrogant. It's deeply unattractive."

I said nothing.

"My boots," Elena continued, nodding her chin toward her feet under the table.

"They got dusty on the carriage ride up from the south gates. Kneel down and wipe them clean. There's a cloth in my bag there."

The entire table went silent.

"I am a maid, Lady Elena," I said carefully, keeping every word very flat and very even.

"Not a boot shine. That isn't part of what I do."

Elena's eyes went wide, then immediately narrowed into two cold slits. She set her wine glass down with a sharp little snap this time, not as careful as before.

"I'm sorry," she said, though her voice made it extremely clear she was not sorry at all.

"What did you just say to me?"

"I said that cleaning boots isn't part of my duties," I repeated.

"I am happy to serve food, clear tables, fetch items—"

"Oh, you are happy?" Elena repeated, saying the word like it tasted sour. She let out a short, sharp laugh and turned to look at Rafael.

"Rafael, do you hear this? Your little maid is telling me what she is and isn't willing to do. In front of me. At the dinner table."

She turned back to me, her voice dropping low and sharp as a blade.

"Let me explain something to you very simply so there's no confusion. I am a guest of this pack. I am the daughter of Alpha Silas of Shadow Creek, one of the most powerful packs on the eastern side of this country.

I have more authority in my little finger than you have in your entire bloodline going back ten generations. When I ask you to do something, anything, the correct answer is yes, my lady, followed immediately by you doing it.

That's it. That is the entire conversation. There are no other words that should come out of your mouth."

She leaned forward slightly, dropping her voice even lower, just for me.

"And if you ever speak back to me like that again in front of company, I will make sure that Rafael hears about every single clumsy, embarrassing, pathetic little mistake you have ever made in this pack house from the day you arrived.

I will make sure everyone knows exactly what kind of girl you are.

Do you understand me?"

I looked at her. I looked at her for a long moment without blinking. The silver light inside me was not humming anymore. It was pressing against the inside of my skin like it wanted out.

"Rafael," Elena said, leaning back in her chair and looking at him with a calm, expectant expression.

"Tell her."

Rafael finally looked up from his plate. He looked at me. His jaw was tight. His eyes were unreadable, completely flat, like a window with the curtains drawn all the way down.

"Do as she says, Zara," Rafael said, his voice as empty as a hollow tree.

"It's just dust. It'll take ten seconds."

Something cracked inside Zara when he said that. I felt it happen. Felt her spirit splinter at the edges like old glass under pressure. But as she broke, I rose. The silver stopped pressing and started burning.

I took one slow breath.

I opened my mouth.

And then the grand dining hall doors flew open so hard they hit the walls on both sides with a sound like a thunderclap.

"What in the world did we miss?"