Chapter 21 Lena's Warning

Chapter 21 Lena's Warning
Sierra

Lena finds me in the laundry room–that alone tells me something is wrong. She never seeks me out during work. Our interactions are typically limited to shared tasks, crossed paths, and the end of the day. Today, she steps through the doorway like she’s made a decision she doesn’t like.

“Sierra,” she says quietly.

I look up from the basin, my hands submerged in soapy water and my sleeves rolled to my elbows. Her face is pale. Tight. Her eyes keep flicking toward the open door behind her.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she moves closer, lowers her voice. “We need to talk,” she says. “And we need to do it now.”

My chest tightens. I dry my hands slowly, my heart already racing. “About what?”

“About Kaelen.”

The name lands like a dropped plate—sharp, loud, impossible to ignore.

I glance at the door and then back at her. “What about him?”

Lena exhales, steadying herself. “I overheard something.”

The laundry room feels smaller suddenly. The air is thicker. “What?” I ask.

“About you,” she says. “Darian Draven was talking about you with Jared.”

The basin sloshes as my grip tightens on its edge. “What? What did they say? Why would they be talking about me? I don’t even know them.” The surprise is genuine, but I am careful not to reveal my nervousness.

Lena hesitates, like she’s choosing how much damage to do with her words. “They’re watching him,” she says finally. “Closely. They think Kaelen’s… distracted.”

My pulse stutters. “Because of me?”

She doesn’t deny it. “They’re questioning whether he’s found his mate,” Lena continues. “And if he has—who she is.”

I swallow hard. “And?”

“And they mentioned you.”

The room tilts. I force myself to stay upright, to keep breathing. “What did they say about me?”

Lena’s voice softens—not kindly, but carefully. “That you’re unacceptable.”

The word burns.

“A servant,” she goes on. “From an enemy pack. A complication.”

My hands curl into fists. I’d known this, hadn’t I? Known it in my bones. Dravens don’t bend. They don’t accept what doesn’t serve them.

“They said, if Kaelen is bonded,” Lena says, “you will be removed.”

My stomach drops. “Removed how?” I whisper.

Lena’s jaw tightens. “They didn’t specify. But it won’t be gentle.”

Silence stretches between us, heavy and ringing.

“Why are you telling me this?” I ask finally.

She meets my gaze, her eyes sharp, searching. “Because you need to stay away from him.”

I bark out a short, disbelieving laugh. “That’s your solution?”

“Yes,” she says bluntly. “It’s the only one that keeps you alive.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” I snap.

“Sierra,” she says, frustration flaring, “you don’t understand how this pack works. They will never accept you. Not as a mate. Not as anything but leverage or liability.” Her words strike deep—but something about them needles at me.

“You’re awfully invested in my fate,” I say slowly. “Why?”

She freezes. Just for a heartbeat. But I see it. “I’m your friend,” she says after a moment.

“That’s not an answer.” I raise one eyebrow in question.

She exhales sharply. “Fine. I’ve seen this before. Heirs like Kaelen don’t get to choose love. They get duty. And anyone who stands in the way gets crushed.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re pushing so hard,” I say. “Why you’re scared for me.”

Her gaze flickers. “Because I don’t want to watch you get destroyed.” The words sound sincere. They don’t feel complete.

I step back, putting space between us. “I appreciate the warning,” I say carefully. “But you don’t understand.”

“I understand the Draven Pack,” she counters. “And that should be enough.” She studies me, something unreadable passing through her eyes. “Just remember,” she says quietly. “Instinct may recognize fate—but fate doesn’t protect you.”

With that, she turns and leaves, vanishing down the corridor like she was never there at all.

I stand alone in the laundry room, my heart hammering, thoughts colliding.

Removed.

Unacceptable.

Liability.

The words echo long after she’s gone.

I finish my tasks on autopilot, moving through the estate with my senses stretched thin. Every shadow feels like a threat. Every footstep makes me flinch.

I’m carrying linens toward the servants’ quarters when a voice stops me.

“You’re new, right?”

I turn to see an older servant—a woman with silver threaded through her dark braid, her eyes kind but sharp. I’ve seen her before, always moving with purpose.

“Yes,” I say. “Sierra.”

“Mara,” she replies, adjusting the basket on her hip. “You’re doing well.”

The compliment catches me off guard. “I am?”

She chuckles. “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t still be here.”

I smile faintly. “I suppose that would be true, if I had a choice.”

She hesitates but then adds, “The young master seems to think so, too.”

My breath catches. “Kaelen? What… what do you mean he thinks so?”

Mara nods. “Good young man. Has a special place in my heart,” she says, mostly ignoring my question. “He notices things. Fixes things,” she continues.

I frown. “Fixes?”

“The roof over the east wing,” she says. “Had it repaired quietly after a storm flooded three rooms. Paid from his own funds so the household wouldn’t take it out of our wages.”

I stare at her.

“And when Tomas broke his leg last winter,” she continues, “Kaelen arranged lighter duties for him. Made sure his family was fed.”

My chest tightens. “Why would he do that?”

She gives me a curious look. “Because he’s not his father.”

The words land softly—but they steady me.

“He listens,” Mara says. “Asks questions. Sometimes pushes back.”

“Against Darian?” I ask.

She lowers her voice. “As much as anyone can.”

I nod slowly, something warm unfurling beneath the fear.

“Be careful,” Mara adds gently. “This place eats the kind ones first.”

“I know,” I say.

But as she walks away, her words linger.

He’s not his father.

Lena’s warning still coils tight in my chest. The danger is real. The risk undeniable.

But so is Kaelen.