Chapter 4 Servant Of The Alpha

Lyra POV

The morning sun shined brightly above the palace walls.I had just been released from my cell a few hours ago.

I was in the servants' hall, polishing a silver tray, when the air shifted when the bond I hadn't felt in three years stirred in me, someone had returned.

All around me, servants stiffened. The warrior beside the door dropped his cup,the steward barked an order, but his voice cracked halfway through. Outside the window, horses stomped, hooves thudding on stone.

I stepped closer, my heart pounding.

A tall shadow crossed the courtyard below. Even from behind, I knew it was him.

His stride was unhurried, but he moved like the earth bent to his will. Black armor hugged his shoulders, and his cape snapped in the wind like a banner of war. The sun struck silver along the blade strapped to his back. Warriors fell in line behind him.

My tray nearly slipped as I gasped in bewilderment.

After three years away,he had come back.

And I was still here, still in rags.

I ducked back from the window, forcing myself to breathe.

The steward barked again. "You! Girl! Take the refreshments to the throne room."

I blinked. "Me?"

He shoved the tray into my hands. "Now."

My palms trembled against the chilled metal. I followed the guards, head down, the hallway closing around me like a tunnel,every step echoed louder than the last.

I reached the throne room doors just as they swung wide.

At the far end of the room, Maximus stood at the center of the hall, his back to me. He'd removed his armor, now clad in a black high-collared tunic, etched with his father's crest,the burning wolf. He towered over the court officials who bent their heads as he passed.

The sound of his voice reached me, low and clipped.

"How many warriors were stationed here while I was gone?"

"Thirty, my king," someone stammered.

"Not enough."

His tone hadn't changed,cold,calculated.

I stepped inside, the tray perfectly balanced, my face tilted just enough to remain unseen. Years of practice made me invisible.

I moved across the marble floor, each step deliberate, until I reached the side table near the dais. I set the tray down and turned to retreat.

"Stop," he said again.

The room fell silent and I froze.

I could feel his eyes gazing at me.

"Turn around," he said.

I did, slowly, keeping my head low.

He stepped down from the platform. His boots hit the stone like hammers, and each footstep sent tremors up my spine.

He stopped just a few paces from me.

"Raise your head."

My heart galloped.

And our eyes met,for the first time in years.

For a moment, nothing else existed,not the guards, not the courtiers, not the scent of polish and polished fear,just his eyes and mine.

His expression didn't shift,but something flickered,narrowing the gaze. A faint tension in his jaw.

He didn't recognize me.

But he looked longer than necessary.

Then came the question. "What's your name?"

"Lyra," I said, barely above a whisper.

"Lyra," he repeated.

Not the girl in the silver gown he'd once humiliated in front of a hundred nobles,just a servant.

The silence between us stretched, taut like thread before it snapped.

His eyes swept over me,dirt-smudged sleeves,faded dress.

His brow furrowed.

"You look..." He paused. "Familiar."

I dropped my gaze. "I serve in the lower kitchens, my lord."

He stared a second longer.

Then he stepped back.

"Leave us."

I bowed and turned.

As I reached the door, I heard him speak,not to me, but loud enough.

"Send word to the council. I want a full report on every servant taken in during the Moonshade raids."

My breath caught,he was digging, he knows.

I fled to the servants' hallway, slipping into the narrow corridor that ran behind the tapestry walls. My hands trembled, I leaned against the stone, breath heaving.

He didn't know me, but he saw me.

That small flicker in his gaze,it was enough to unearth the ache I'd buried years ago.

He didn't remember the silver dress.

Didn't remember the girl who waited all night for a dance that never came. For a touch,a glance,a promise broken before it was ever made.

Didn't remember saying, "You're not my mate. You're just a mistake."

Didn't remember the shame as the ballroom laughed and turned away.

Now here I was, dirt under his boot again, a servant in his palace,but I remembered everything,I couldn't forget the humiliation,the laughter coming from the guest.

Later that evening, the palace buzzed with his return. Servants raced through halls, polishing rooms that hadn't been used in years. The warriors reassembled,Noble houses arrived at the gates with tributes and questions.

And Maximus walked through it all like a ghost coming home.

He passed me twice that day,once on the west stairs, speaking with his Beta,Leon. Once in the eastern corridor, his cloak brushed the hem of my skirt as I bowed low to avoid his gaze.

Both times, my heart stuttered.

Both times, his eyes brushed over me,

and both times, I felt the bond again.

It was weak but I felt it,a pull in the air, an ache in the chest,

He didn't know,but his wolf might know.

The boy who once rejected me now walked the same halls.

I gritted my teeth in anger,tears still threatened to fall from my eyes.

"You'll pay for everything you've done to me, Maximus," I muttered with a shaky voice.