Chapter 6

Scarlett's POV

I stand uneasily next to Jasper as he leads me towards a woman with a striking resemblance to him. Her sharp features and cold demeanor make me instantly wary.

“Scarlett, meet Lila,” Jasper begins, motioning towards her. “She's my sister.”

Lila arches an eyebrow, her gaze raking over me like claws from a wild beast. “She is human?”

“Yes,” Jasper responds with a sigh, “And that's why I need a favor, Lila. She's unfamiliar with our ways. Lorien has expressed that she should be educated about the pack.”

Lila's lips curl into a smile, but I can't shake the feeling that something's off. “Of course, I'd be delighted to help. We should all be well-informed, shouldn't we?” There's a hint of mischief in her eyes that doesn't sit right with me.

Jasper nods, seemingly relieved. “Thank you, Lila. It means a lot.”

“Always for family,” she replies smoothly. But as her eyes flick to mine, and there's a chill to her gaze that makes me shiver inwardly.

Jasper seems oblivious to the undercurrents of tension between us. “I'll come by later this week to see how things are progressing,” he tells me, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

I nod, trying to exude confidence I don't truly feel. “That sounds good. I'll be waiting.”

He gives Lila a lingering look before leaving us alone. The air feels heavier, charged with tension, and I try to distract myself by examining my surroundings. Beneath me, the polished marble gleams, reflecting the chandeliers that hang gracefully above. I'm struck by the opulence - the rich tapestries, the artwork, everything screaming luxury.

“Admiring the décor?” Lila asks, breaking my reverie.

“It's… beautiful,” I admit hesitantly.

“Yes,” she muses, her gaze piercing. “But beauty often conceals many secrets. Remember that, Scarlett.”

I swallow hard, a sense of foreboding settling in. For some reason, this woman… this she-wolf doesn't like me. I hate that I already have to watch my back.

Lila's footsteps echo as she confidently strides down the corridor, her heels clicking rhythmically. “I have just the room for you, Scarlett,” she announces, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk.

I follow her hesitantly, taking in my new surroundings. "This house is impressive," I comment, trying to keep the conversation light.

"It is," Lila agrees. "Now, where did you say you were from again?”

“I grew up in Wayne,” I reply, trying to gauge her reaction.

She raises an eyebrow, “You're quite far from home. I assume you've heard of shifters in Wayne?”

“Yeah, stories here and there. But, to be honest, I've never been close to one,” I admit, feeling suddenly vulnerable.

Lila chuckles lightly, “That's surprising. Especially considering you're now in the compound of the Lycan King. He's not exactly fond of humans, you know.”

I feel a pang in my chest, sensing the undertones in her voice. “Is that so?” I respond, trying to mask my unease.

Before she can say anything further, she pushes open a door to reveal a dim, uninviting room. “Here we are,” she says, a hint of malice in her tone.

I step in cautiously, instantly noting the cold that seeps into my bones. Cobwebs cling to the corners, and the small twin bed in the center looks uninviting with its lumpy mattress. The scuffed bedside table stands bare save for an old lamp with a lone bulb.

“The rest of the house looks so... different,” I comment, wrapping my arms around myself for warmth. "I wasn't expecting this."

She grins, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “You'll adjust.” With that, she leaves, shutting the door behind her.

I pull the thin blanket from the bed, wrapping it around me as best I can. "Guess I'm a prisoner in all but name," I mutter to myself.

The soft hum of the manor envelops me as I sit alone, taking in my meager surroundings. Just as I begin to wonder what awaits me, a delicate voice interrupts my thoughts.

"Mistress Lila has sent me, I am Aela," a maid says, stepping out of the shadows. She's younger than I expected, maybe in her late teens, with wide eyes and a sincere expression. "She asked that I prepare a bath for you. It's been arranged to help you freshen up. Tomorrow, you see, is going to be quite an eventful day."

I raise an eyebrow, taken aback by her politeness. "Thank you," I respond, trying to sound calm despite the whirlwind of emotions inside me. "Please lead the way."

We traverse winding corridors, the sound of our footsteps echoing through the vast expanse. Every step increases the pace of my heart, each turn making the manor seem even more labyrinthine. Above stairs, the grandeur of the place makes it feel like a home. My room is more like a cage.

"Here we are," Aela says, pushing open a grand door.

The room beyond is breathtaking. My eyes dart around, taking in the gold fixtures and an oversized tub that seems fit for royalty. The scent of rose petals wafts through the air, tempting me towards the bath.

"I'll leave you to it," Aela offers, her voice gentle.

I nod my appreciation, silently stepping towards the bath. The water looks inviting, and as I dip my toes in, the warmth encases my foot. I slowly immerse myself, feeling the tension of the day beginning to melt away.

A sudden movement catches my attention. Before I can fully register it, the door swings open with force. Lila, unmistakable with her sharp, haughty features, walks in as if she owns the place. I can't help but wonder if she ever knocks.

"Lila?" My voice comes out steadier than I feel. "Is there something you're looking for?"

Her eyes lock onto mine, a hint of amusement flickering in them. "Just wanted to see how Lorien's newest... uh, guest is faring," she drawls, emphasizing the word 'guest' as if it's a joke only she understands.

"I was enjoying a quiet moment," I reply, trying to maintain my composure. "But you're welcome to join the party."

She laughs, a sound that's more cutting than jovial. "Always so feisty, aren't we? Well, enjoy your bath. Tomorrow, as you might have heard, is a big day."

"Thanks for the reminder," I respond, gritting my teeth. I wait for her to leave, but she lingers for a moment, surveying the room as if she's taking stock of something.

Finally, with a flippant wave, she turns and exits the bathroom, only to return less than a minute later. Lila holds a ceramic bowl filled with a peculiar liquid, its colors undulating like an evening sky. "A treat from our homeland," she announces, stirring the orange-colored liquid gently. "It's said to rejuvenate."

She wastes no time, blending it into my bathwater which soon becomes perfectly transparent. I manage a polite tone, masking my rising unease, "A generous gesture, Lila."

Her smirk is evident. "One does what one can."

Weird.