No one refuses the Alpha. Those who try learn why, slowly, and in front of everyone.
007.
Seyra didn’t know if she should be worried or paranoid. She was following a brunette maid who was leading her to the maid’s quarters, where she would be assigned her duties to the Alpha and the rest of the work she was supposed to be doing in the palace.
She replayed her conversation with Orin countless times in her head, and each time, she wondered why she wasn’t dead yet.
He had basically threatened her. She’d almost peed her pants.
The next thing she knew, a maid had walked into the Alpha’s chambers and asked her to come with her.
And now here she was, confused, worried, scared, and paranoid all at the same time.
Because the Orin she’d seen snap a guard’s neck and kill him wouldn’t be so merciful as to let her off the hook this easily, not after everything she said and did in his chamber.
Not after she had broken the ’don’t ask anything about the Alpha’ rule that cost a guard’s life.
Seyra bit her fingers, trying to think. Maybe he was just tricking her.
Maybe he wanted her to be comfortable before he struck. He knew she was expecting him to kill her, so he was playing around with her first, and then, when she least expected it, he was going to kill her.
She scoffed. She wasn’t going to stick around and let that happen.
The maid she was walking with looked at her like she had gone crazy. She’d been watching Seyra, watching how her face alternated between different emotions within the space of a minute.
"Are you okay?" the maid asked, genuinely concerned.
That seemed to push Seyra back to reality. "Yes. I’m fine," she answered with a small smile.
They got to a set of double doors, and the maid pushed them open.
Inside was a long room lined with bunks, chests, and a row of mirrors along one wall. A handful of maids were scattered around, folding uniforms, braiding each other’s hair, and talking in low voices.
"This is where you’ll sleep," the brunette maid said, pointing to an empty bunk near the back. "I’m Ruth, by the way."
Seyra nodded. "Thank you, Ruth."
Before she could say anything else, a shrill voice cut through the room.
"You’re late, Mira!"
Seyra turned to see a tall maid with long blonde curls storming toward another girl, a small, timid-looking maid clutching a stack of linens to her chest.
"I’m sorry," Mira stammered. "The kitchen needed help with—"
"I don’t care what the kitchen needed." The tall maid snatched the linens from Mira’s arms and threw them to the floor. "When I give an order, you follow it. Do you understand who you’re talking to?"
Mira’s eyes filled with tears as she bent to pick up the scattered linens. "I understand, Darcel. I’m sorry."
"Sorry doesn’t fold sheets." Darcel kicked one of the linens further away, just to watch Mira crawl after it. "Maybe if you weren’t so useless, you wouldn’t need to apologize so much."
The other maids in the room said nothing. Some looked away. Others watched with faint, uncomfortable amusement, like this was simply how things worked here.
Seyra felt something tighten in her chest.
She knew that look on Mira’s face. She had worn it herself, more times than she could count.
"Leave her alone," Seyra said before she could stop herself.
The room went quiet.
Darcel turned slowly, her eyes narrowing as she took Seyra in. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me." Seyra kept her voice steady, even though her heart was pounding. "She said she was sorry. That’s enough."
Darcel laughed. There was no humor in it. "And who exactly are you? The new one who got a guard killed on her first day?"
A few maids snickered.
Seyra’s face burned. She had no idea how the word had spread so quickly, but she didn’t back down. "That doesn’t give you the right to treat her like that."
"Oh, I don’t need a right." Darcel stepped closer, close enough that Seyra could smell the bitterness on her breath. "I’ve been here longer than you’ve been alive. I decide how things run in this room. Not some silver-haired reject who’s probably one bad day away from being thrown to the wolves. Literally."
Seyra clenched her fists.
Darcel smiled, seeing exactly how deeply that landed. "Careful, new girl. You already made an enemy of the Alpha’s patience. Don’t make one of me too."
She turned and shoved past Seyra hard enough to knock her shoulder into the nearest bunk. Seyra caught herself against the wooden frame, her jaw tight, saying nothing.
Mira knelt on the floor, gathering the last of the linens without looking up.
Seyra crouched beside her and helped her pick up the rest.
"You didn’t have to do that," Mira whispered.
"Yes, I did." Seyra handed her the folded stack. "Nobody should have to apologize for existing."
Mira gave her a small, grateful smile, the first kind look Seyra had gotten since she walked into this palace.
The doors opened again, and every maid in the room straightened at once, their backs going rigid and their eyes dropping to the floor.
A tall, beautiful woman stepped inside, her uniform more formal than the others, with a ring of keys hanging from her belt.
"Head Maid Ophelia," someone whispered beside Seyra.
Ophelia’s gaze swept the room before landing directly on Seyra.
"You," she said. "You’re the one who’s been assigned to the Alpha’s personal quarters."
Ophelia’s words landed like a stone dropped into still water.
Whispers broke out immediately.
"His personal quarters? Why would he choose her?"
"She’s a reject. A disgrace. Why would the Alpha want someone like that near his inner chambers?"
"Maybe he’s punishing her," another voice murmured. "Maybe this is his way of teaching her a lesson before he finishes her off."
Seyra kept her face still, but her stomach twisted. That last theory sounded exactly like something Orin would do.
"Enough," Ophelia snapped, and the room fell silent again.
She turned her full attention to Seyra, her expression unreadable.
"You will report to the Alpha’s chambers every morning before sunrise. You will clean, you will organize, you will bring his meals when instructed. You will not speak unless he speaks to you first. You will not touch anything you are not told to touch. You will not look him directly in the eye unless he permits it." She paused. "And you will never, under any circumstance, be late."
Seyra swallowed hard.
"Do you understand?"
"Yes," Seyra said quietly.
Ophelia studied her for a long moment, like she was trying to decide whether Seyra was worth the trouble already forming around her.
Seyra hesitated, then spoke before she could stop herself.
"Can I refuse?"
The room went utterly still.
Ophelia’s face twisted with something between disbelief and disgust. A few maids actually gasped out loud.
"Refuse?" Ophelia repeated the word like it tasted foul in her mouth. "You dare speak of refusing the Alpha’s order? On your first day in this palace, you think you have the right to say whatever you like?"
"I only meant—"
"I don’t care what you meant." Ophelia’s voice sharpened into something cold and final. She reached for the small bell hanging from her belt and rang it once.
Two guards stepped forward from the doorway, their expressions blank and waiting.
Ophelia didn’t look away from Seyra as she spoke.
"Show her what happens to those who defy the Alpha’s orders."
The room seemed to hold its breath.
"Thirty," Ophelia said. "The golden whip."