Sayori hadn't meant to linger.
But the rain had come early—harsh and cold—sweeping through the western corridors and flooding the lower walkways. The guest linens she'd been sent to deliver now hung damp from her arms as she waited beneath the arch of the inner gallery, the storm crackling just beyond.
She heard him before she saw him.
Boots, expensive ones. Soft, muffled by the rug. A faint clink—rings on fingers, or perhaps the polished hilt of a blade brushing against a belt buckle.
Kaelen.
He stopped when he saw her. A flicker of surprise, then something slower—more deliberate—settling across his face.
"You," he said.
Sayori lowered her gaze.
She could hear the smile in his voice, even if she didn't see it.
"Still creeping through the Alpha's halls like a shadow. Tell me… does he speak to you when the moon's high? Or do you sit at his feet like a dog and beg for scraps?"
Sayori didn't answer.
He stepped closer, a mockery of gentleness in his movement. "No? Nothing to say? Or does silence please him more?"
The storm rumbled behind them, the thunder a long, angry growl.
"You're braver than you look," Kaelen murmured. "Or maybe just stupid. You think none of us notice how you drift where you shouldn't?"
Sayori's hands tightened on the bundle of linen.
"I've seen you," he said. "In the East Wing. You linger too long. You watch too closely. You're a human—slow, forgettable, weak. But Fenris looks at you like you matter. And I wonder…"
He took another step forward. Close enough to smell the spice on his coat.
"…what would happen if someone reminded him just how breakable you are?"
Sayori didn't look up. But her knuckles were white now, trembling around the cloth.
Kaelen leaned down, his voice a whisper of heat and disdain. "Stay in your place, pet. Or someone might teach you where it is."
A noise behind them.
Sharp. Cold. Iron.
Sayori's breath hitched.
Kaelen straightened in a flash—too quick to seem casual. A voice called from down the hall. One of the guards—Thalen, she thought. Approaching.
Kaelen's composure returned instantly. He gave her a curt, dismissive nod.
"Tell the Alpha I send my regards," he said, voice silk-smooth once again. "I'm sure he appreciates how loyal you are."
And then he was gone.
Sayori stood very still, linen clutched against her chest, her skin cold where his words had brushed her.
She hadn't spoken.
She never did.
But her silence had teeth now.
And Kaelen, for the first time, seemed to realize it.