CHAPTER FOUR
The Alpha House had always been busy. This was different.
For six years, the rhythm of the house had belonged to Iris.
Every servant knew where fresh flowers should be placed without asking because she had quietly established the routine.
The kitchen staff understood that Lucien preferred strong coffee before sunrise and never liked sweet pastries until afternoon.
Even the guards changed shifts without unnecessary noise outside the Alpha's chambers because Iris had once noticed Lucien sleeping through the first peaceful night he'd had in weeks.
She had never given orders loudly.
She simply paid attention.
Now the house no longer moved around familiar routines. It revolved around a frightened little girl who had arrived carrying nothing except a worn rabbit and a grief far too heavy for someone her age.
Iris couldn't resent that.
She refused to.
None of this belonged to Elodie.
Just after sunrise, she walked into the kitchen to find Cook Agnes standing over three different pans, muttering to herself while flipping oat cakes with impressive speed.
"I've changed breakfast twice already," Agnes complained without looking up. "First Elder Rowan wanted something suitable for guests. Then Elder Matthis demanded a celebration meal. Now the healer says the child barely has an appetite."
Iris tied an apron around her waist.
"Has anyone asked what Elodie actually likes?"
Agnes stopped moving.
A slow smile spread across her weathered face.
"I knew there was a reason I waited for you."
Twenty minutes later, Iris carried a small tray upstairs herself.
There were honey oat cakes cut into tiny triangles, sliced apples, warm milk with a touch of cinnamon, and scrambled eggs that weren't overcooked. Children often rejected meals that looked too large after long journeys. Smaller portions felt less overwhelming.
She knocked softly before entering.
Elodie sat on the edge of the bed while Mara slept in the chair beside the window, still wrapped in blankets. The woman hadn't stirred.
The little girl looked at the tray with cautious curiosity.
"I wasn't sure what you liked," Iris admitted. "So I guessed."
Elodie studied every plate before pointing to the apples.
"My mama made rabbits."
"With the slices?"
The child nodded.
"They had little ears."
Iris looked down at the neatly arranged fruit.
"I think mine are disappointingly rabbit free."
For the first time since arriving, Elodie giggled.
It was quiet.
Brief.
But it transformed the room.
"I can show you."
"I'd like that."
Five minutes later, Iris found herself carefully rearranging apple slices under the serious instruction of a five year old who insisted rabbit ears should never be uneven.
"You made one too big."
"I did."
"The rabbit won't match."
"I've embarrassed the entire rabbit family."
Elodie nodded solemnly.
"I think so."
Agnes happened to pass the open doorway carrying fresh linens. She paused just long enough to witness Iris pretending to apologize to a plate of fruit.
"I'll pretend I never saw this."
Iris looked over her shoulder.
"I'd appreciate that."
"No promises."
The older woman disappeared down the hallway chuckling to herself.
The laughter lingered long after she was gone.
Unfortunately, so did the interruptions.
Before Elodie finished breakfast, three visitors arrived requesting audiences with Lucien.
A neighboring Alpha sent congratulations.
A merchant brought gifts for the child.
Two elders from another allied territory appeared with elaborate condolences and even more elaborate curiosity.
The front entrance barely closed before another knock echoed through the house.
Servants hurried from room to room carrying fresh flowers, additional chairs, polished silver, and extra tea trays.
The Alpha House no longer felt like a home.
It felt like a place where everyone expected history to happen.
Near midday, Iris stepped into the main hall and stopped.
Several workers were measuring the eastern family suite.
One held a roll of fabric samples while another discussed replacing furniture.
"What are you doing?"
The carpenter smiled politely.
"Elder Rowan instructed us to prepare the room."
"For whom?"
He looked genuinely surprised by the question.
"For the young heir."
The word settled heavily inside her.
No one had spoken to Lucien.
No one had spoken to her.
The decision had simply appeared.
"I wasn't aware that choice had been made."
"We received written authorization."
He held up a folded order bearing Rowan's seal.
Not Lucien's.
Rowan's.
Iris looked at it for a long moment before handing it back.
"Finish measuring."
The carpenter hesitated.
"You don't object?"
She managed a calm smile.
"Objecting to men with tape measures seems like a poor use of my afternoon."
He laughed awkwardly, unsure whether she'd made a joke.
She wasn't sure either.
When she reached Lucien's study, the door stood half open.
Voices drifted into the hallway.
"...temporary guardianship..."
"...succession records..."
"...bloodline registry..."
Lucien sat behind his desk surrounded by documents. Damon stood beside him taking notes while Rowan continued speaking as though the Alpha hadn't spent the last hour answering impossible questions.
Lucien looked exhausted.
His eyes found Iris immediately.
Relief flickered across his face.
"Can we pause for a moment?"
Rowan frowned but gathered his papers.
"We'll continue after lunch."
Once the elders left, silence filled the room.
Lucien leaned back and rubbed both hands across his face.
"I don't remember the last time I read this many reports."
"You've skipped lunch again."
He blinked.
"I have?"
She crossed the room and placed a plate on the desk.
"I thought you might."
He looked at the food before looking at her.
"Thank you."
She waited while he took the first bite.
Neither of them mentioned that this simple exchange had once been enough to make them smile.
Today it felt strangely formal.
"How's Elodie?" he asked.
"She likes apple rabbits."
His expression softened.
"Apple rabbits?"
"I made terrible ones."
"I doubt that."
"She strongly disagrees."
A quiet laugh escaped him.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't even long.
But Iris felt herself looking up in surprise.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd heard that sound.
Lucien noticed her expression.
"What?"
She almost answered honestly.
I missed hearing you laugh.
Instead, she smiled.
"Nothing."
The moment slipped away.
Another knock interrupted them.
Damon stepped inside carrying yet another stack of correspondence.
"I promise these keep reproducing."
Lucien sighed.
"I believe you."
"They're waiting in the council chamber."
"Again?"
"I'm afraid so."
Lucien pushed back his chair.
"I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize."
"I keep leaving."
"You keep being needed."
The words were true.
That didn't stop them from hurting.
By evening, the Alpha House looked subtly different.
New toys sat in the sitting room.
A smaller chair had appeared beside the fireplace.
Children's storybooks rested on a table that had held council maps only yesterday.
None of the changes were wrong.
Each one made sense.
Together they made Iris feel like a guest walking through someone else's future.
That night, long after the servants retired and the house finally quieted, she slipped beneath the blankets without lighting another candle.
Lucien entered several minutes later.
He moved carefully, trying not to wake her even though she wasn't asleep.
She felt the mattress dip beneath his weight.
For years, they had ended every difficult day the same way.
One of them would reach across the space between them.
Sometimes it was only a hand.
Sometimes a sleepy kiss.
Sometimes nothing more than tangled fingers before sleep claimed them both.
Tonight neither moved.
The distance separating them measured less than two feet.
It felt impossible to cross.
Lucien turned onto his side.
She listened to the quiet rhythm of his breathing.
He was close enough that she could have reached out with one hand.
She didn't.
Neither did he.
And somewhere in the darkness, Iris realized something she wasn't ready to name.
She was still loved by the pack.
Still respected.
Still needed.
But those things were quietly replacing something far more precious.
She was becoming useful.
She no longer knew if she was being chosen.