Chapter 12: servant in the king wing

Logan POV

“Alpha Richard, what brings you to my territory?”

My voice echoed through the throne hall—cold, clipped, with no room for games.

Richard bowed his head stiffly, a smile stretching across his face that I didn’t trust.

Not even a little.

“I come seeking your support in war,” he announced. “We need an army, King Logan.”

I knew he did. The man only stepped foot here when he wanted something.

I didn’t flinch. “I will speak with the Elders,” I replied, tone flat. “Hendrick, escort him to a room.”

Beta Hendrick nodded and led him away.

I didn’t miss the way Richard’s eyes wandered as he left… searching. He is hungry, but it is different, he is a beast.

And I hated the feeling that punched through my chest at that thought.

\---

The Elders gave their counsel long, dull, predictable. I dismissed them the moment they finished speaking. I needed air. Or perhaps I needed control.

Something had been off since Richard’s arrival, a tension crawling beneath my skin.

I found myself walking to the kitchen. I didn’t know why, not consciously. But something inside me expected to see her there.

Ophelia.

Moving quietly, my head lowered, trying to disappear into corners like a shadow no one bothered to notice.

But today, the kitchen was loud, the servants moving, dishes clattering, steam rising from pots. Yet the one person I sought wasn't there.

My jaw tightened. “Where is Ophelia?” I asked Mira.

Mira froze. Her eyes flicked up quickly before lowering again. “She was assigned… to serve Alpha Richard.”

For a moment, everything around me went silent.

Richard, with her alone, the hungry beast.

My pulse slammed once, hard.

I didn’t show anything in front of the servants, but something dark and violent snapped awake inside me.

I turned sharply and left the kitchen.

On my way down the corridor, a frail voice stopped me.

“You can’t escape your fate, my king.” It's the old woman. The same one that always seemed to appear near Ophelia.

Her eyes saw too much, knew too much.

I paused only for a second. I didn’t have the patience to decode her riddles today.

Not when Ophelia was alone with him.

I stormed down the hallway, my steps growing faster until I reached the guest wing. Without knocking, without announcing myself, I shoved Richard’s door open.

The sight inside turned my blood to fire.

Richard was holding her wrist, not gently or respectfully, he was touching her

Ophelia looked startled, frozen in place.

That was all it took.

I crossed the room in three steps, grabbed Richard’s wrist, and ripped it away from her with enough force to make him stumble.

Before he could even breathe a response, I pulled Ophelia behind me, her small frame pressing against my back as if that was where she belonged.

My wolf growled without hesitation.

“Stay away from her.”

Richard straightened, shock tightening his features. “Logan… your servant—”

“She is not yours to touch,” I cut him off, voice dropped coldly. I rarely used indoors.

Ophelia’s wrist glowed faintly against my palm, but I ignored it. I ignored everything except the burn that shot through my veins at the thought of anyone else holding her that way.

I didn’t give Richard another second. I grabbed Ophelia’s hand, gently but firmly, and dragged her out of the room.

She stumbled after me, breathing uneven, her steps quick to match mine.

Once we were far enough from the guest wing, I didn’t stop. The need to put distance between her and Richard clawed at me. I know what Richard is, everybody knows him. He is only a beast after woman

Her wrist glowed brighter, warm against my skin, but my grip only tightened.

“Logan… slow down,” she whispered breathlessly.

I didn’t until we reached the kitchen.

The servants were there, every single one. Their chatter stopped instantly. Their heads bowed. Their eyes darted from me to Ophelia… to our joined hands.

I didn’t care.

I pulled her in front of me and spoke loud enough for everyone to hear.

“From today onward,” I said, voice like steel, “Ophelia will be my personal servant.”

A ripple moved through the room. Gasps, Whispers and fear.

I ignored every bit of it.

No one would touch her again. Not under my winds

Mira’s eyes widened. “Your… your majesty—”

“That is my final decision.”

The room fell silent.

Ophelia looked up at me, confusion swirling in her eyes, her breath soft and uneven. She didn’t understand.

Maybe I didn’t fully understand either.

All I knew was the moment I saw Richard touching her, something ancient inside me snapped open. Possessive and undeniable

I didn’t release her hand as I led her out of the kitchen.

________________________________

I should have known the pack would talk.

The moment I assigned Ophelia to stay in my private wing—where only ranked wolves and my inner circle had access, the entire castle erupted into whispers.

She walked behind me with her head down, carrying folded linens, trying to appear invisible. But nothing about her was invisible anymore to me, the servants, or to the nobles.

And certainly not to Seraphina.

I heard the murmurs echoing down the hall before Ophelia did.

“Did you see her? The girl he kept in the East Wing.”

“He’s keeping her close, too close.”

“Is she a concubine?”

“Maybe he’s replacing Lady Seraphina.”

The last one made my wolf snarl in satisfaction.

Seraphina was a political alliance, nothing more. A future the elders wanted. A future I never agreed to. And now that Ophelia was here, everything in me rejected the idea more violently than ever.

But the whispers unsettled her. I saw the way her shoulders tensed, how she walked faster, how she clutched the linens harder like they were a shield.

I wanted to chase every gossiping bastard out of my territory.

Instead, I kept walking, pretending not to hear, though my wolf paced inside me restlessly.

When I reached my chamber , I opened the door for her.

“You’ll stay here now,” I said quietly. “Where I can keep you safe.”

Her eyes widened—gold-flecked, glowing faintly. “king Logan… I don’t belong here.”

“Yes,” I murmured. “You do.”

“I will be back to stay here.”

I walked out.

—

I shouldn’t have left her alone.

I only stepped away for a council meeting, one hour. But that was enough time for Seraphina to strike.

I knew something was wrong the moment I returned. The scent of fear flooded the hallway, sharp, metallic, unmistakably Ophelia’s. Beneath it was Seraphina’s jasmine perfume, heavy and angry.

My wolf bristled. Where is she? Then I heard it, a choked cry, a thud and gasp of pain.

I moved fast, when I turned the corner, I saw her.

Ophelia stood pressed against the wall, breathing hard, eyes wide. Seraphina had her pinned by the arm, nails digging into her skin so deep I smelled blood.

“What are you doing with king Logan?” Seraphina hissed. “You think you can take my place? You think he wants trash like you?”

Ophelia shook her head frantically, voice trembling. “I—I didn’t—”

“Liar.” Seraphina squeezed harder. “I’ll rip your throat out and show him what you are.”

Something snapped inside Ophelia at those words. Something ancient and dangerous.

Before I could intervene, flames burst from her palm, a sudden, fierce flare like living fire.

Seraphina screamed and stumbled back, clutching her burned wrist. “Witch! MONSTER!” she shrieked, tears running down her face. “I’ll expose you, I swear!”

She fled, still screaming, her footsteps echoing down the hall.

Ophelia collapsed to her knees.

The fire died instantly, but the fear didn’t. She curled in on herself, hands shaking violently, staring at her palms like they betrayed her.

I stepped forward slowly, letting my scent reach her first. She didn’t look up. She didn’t even notice I was there until I knelt in front of her.

Her breathing was wild, too fast. She couldn’t pull air into her lungs.

“Ophelia.” My voice was low, steady. “Look at me.”

She didn’t.

So I gently slid my hand under her chin and lifted her face.

Her eyes were glowing, bright gold, bright red, shifting, wild and terrified.

“I didn’t mean to—” she whispered, voice cracking. “I can’t control it. I didn’t want to hurt her. I swear, my Lord, I didn’t—”

Her words broke off in a sob.

She wasn’t afraid of Seraphina, she was afraid of herself.

My wolf let out a soft rumble, not anger, or dominance, it's protective

“Breathe,” I murmured again.

She tried. She failed.

Her whole body trembled like she was fighting two battles, one inside her blood, one inside her mind.

Carefully, I rested my forehead against hers.

Her breathing slowed. Just a little. Enough for me to see her eyes—shattered, confused, ashamed.

“This power,” she whispered. “It’s growing. It’s getting stronger. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

Every instinct inside me sharpened.

The way her aura flared, the fire she summoned. The glow in her eyes.

It wasn’t witchcraft, or Omega weakness. It was something I’d only heard in legends whispered to children to keep them in line.

“Ophelia.” My voice dropped deeper. My fingers lifted her chin fully. “Look at me.”

She lifted her gaze slowly, tear-bright, trembling.

I studied her, really studied her. The fire is still flickering behind her pupils. The raw power in her skin. The way my wolf reacted to her like she was the missing half of something ancient.

I brushed my thumb across her cheek.

“What are you?” I asked, not with accusation…

But awe.

Because whatever she was…She wasn’t ordinary.

She is something powerful, and unable to deny.