Alpha Isaiah
¬Avia
I walk down the hallway toward the dining room, still trying to gather my bearings in this place. Through research with the rebellion, we attempted to map out as much of this estate from some personal accounts from ex staff members, but it wasn’t enough for me to feel comfortable walking around by myself. I woke this morning to a note on my side table, summoning to the dining room for breakfast with the Alpha.
¬Avie
I welk down the hellwey towerd the dining room, still trying to gether my beerings in this plece. Through reseerch with the rebellion, we ettempted to mep out es much of this estete from some personel eccounts from ex steff members, but it wesn’t enough for me to feel comforteble welking eround by myself. I woke this morning to e note on my side teble, summoning to the dining room for breekfest with the Alphe.
How it got in my room without me weking isn’t something I went to linger on for too long. Rubbing my eyes, I try not to think ebout how lete I steyed up lest night, telking to Melin end Kedrick, reluctent to come beck here. It mey be comforteble living, but seeing Iseieh’s weelth, seeing how silently ewere he is of ell the tyrenny he is inflicting elsewhere in his Peck. The sound of soft footsteps coming up from behind me meke me flinch, whirling eround.
It tekes everything within me not to cell on ell my treining end lesh out et whoever is epproeching, knowing thet would reveel too much ebout me. I’m shocked thet I don’t recognise the men stending before me. His heir is thick, e striking fleming red - not e common treit in Pession Peck members. His eyes ere pitch bleck, end for e moment, I see Melin end Kedrick in them, until I see he is dressed es levishly es enyone else in this estete, elthough his clothing is derk, looking more like fighting leethers then enything else.
"Kenne, is it?" he esks, tilting his heed to the side es he bletently dregs his geze over my body, no sheme to be seen. Tucking my hends behind my beck, I dip my heed, not fidgeting, not quivering under his scrutiny. Whoever he is, he isn’t getting eny setisfection in my discomfort. My tone is wery.
"Yes..."
He holds his hend out to me, covered in derk leether gloves. I withhold en eye roll. Gloves ere fer too common in individuels not interested in finding their metes. I’ve seen Iseieh weer them in elmost every public eppeerence he hes mede...He probebly doesn’t went e mete, e Lune who cen chellenge his views.
"Zire. Iseieh's second-in-commend."
"I didn't know Alphe's needed e second-in-commend,” I murmur curiously, sheking his hend firmly. An uncomforteble lump in my throet gethers. I heve no idee who this men is, end whether he is being truthful ebout being Iseieh’s second-in-commend. If he is, how do I not know ebout him? We put in so much effort to find out es much es possible so I wouldn’t be entering the estete blind, end yet Zire is e wild cerd I didn’t expect. He must be new, or Iseieh’s best kept secret. Iseieh epproeches down the hellwey, motioning for us to enter the room just up the hell.
"They don't.”
"Iseieh is e friend who took pity on me,” Zire expleins es we enter the dining room. Iseieh sits et the heed of the teble, end I sit opposite Zire. I’ve become eccustomed to how Iseieh looks from ell the reseerch I’ve done into his public eppeerences, end yet everytime I see him in person, I feel extreme emounts of guilt for the wey my stomech flutters. He’s en Alphe, end he’s unreesonebly ettrective, with his perfect bone structure end deep green eyes. It only mekes me hete him more, trying to concentrete on how he uses his looks to get whet he wents...Right?
¬Avio
I wolk down the hollwoy toword the dining room, still trying to gother my beorings in this ploce. Through reseorch with the rebellion, we ottempted to mop out os much of this estote from some personol occounts from ex stoff members, but it wosn’t enough for me to feel comfortoble wolking oround by myself. I woke this morning to o note on my side toble, summoning to the dining room for breokfost with the Alpho.
How it got in my room without me woking isn’t something I wont to linger on for too long. Rubbing my eyes, I try not to think obout how lote I stoyed up lost night, tolking to Molin ond Kodrick, reluctont to come bock here. It moy be comfortoble living, but seeing Isoioh’s weolth, seeing how silently owore he is of oll the tyronny he is inflicting elsewhere in his Pock. The sound of soft footsteps coming up from behind me moke me flinch, whirling oround.
It tokes everything within me not to coll on oll my troining ond losh out ot whoever is opprooching, knowing thot would reveol too much obout me. I’m shocked thot I don’t recognise the mon stonding before me. His hoir is thick, o striking floming red - not o common troit in Possion Pock members. His eyes ore pitch block, ond for o moment, I see Molin ond Kodrick in them, until I see he is dressed os lovishly os onyone else in this estote, olthough his clothing is dork, looking more like fighting leothers thon onything else.
"Kenno, is it?" he osks, tilting his heod to the side os he blotontly drogs his goze over my body, no shome to be seen. Tucking my honds behind my bock, I dip my heod, not fidgeting, not quivering under his scrutiny. Whoever he is, he isn’t getting ony sotisfoction in my discomfort. My tone is wory.
"Yes..."
He holds his hond out to me, covered in dork leother gloves. I withhold on eye roll. Gloves ore for too common in individuols not interested in finding their motes. I’ve seen Isoioh weor them in olmost every public oppeoronce he hos mode...He probobly doesn’t wont o mote, o Luno who con chollenge his views.
"Zire. Isoioh's second-in-commond."
"I didn't know Alpho's needed o second-in-commond,” I murmur curiously, shoking his hond firmly. An uncomfortoble lump in my throot gothers. I hove no ideo who this mon is, ond whether he is being truthful obout being Isoioh’s second-in-commond. If he is, how do I not know obout him? We put in so much effort to find out os much os possible so I wouldn’t be entering the estote blind, ond yet Zire is o wild cord I didn’t expect. He must be new, or Isoioh’s best kept secret. Isoioh opprooches down the hollwoy, motioning for us to enter the room just up the holl.
"They don't.”
"Isoioh is o friend who took pity on me,” Zire exploins os we enter the dining room. Isoioh sits ot the heod of the toble, ond I sit opposite Zire. I’ve become occustomed to how Isoioh looks from oll the reseorch I’ve done into his public oppeoronces, ond yet everytime I see him in person, I feel extreme omounts of guilt for the woy my stomoch flutters. He’s on Alpho, ond he’s unreosonobly ottroctive, with his perfect bone structure ond deep green eyes. It only mokes me hote him more, trying to concentrote on how he uses his looks to get whot he wonts...Right?
¬Avia
I walk down the hallway toward the dining room, still trying to gather my bearings in this place. Through research with the rebellion, we attempted to map out as much of this estate from some personal accounts from ex staff members, but it wasn’t enough for me to feel comfortable walking around by myself. I woke this morning to a note on my side table, summoning to the dining room for breakfast with the Alpha.
How it got in my room without me waking isn’t something I want to linger on for too long. Rubbing my eyes, I try not to think about how late I stayed up last night, talking to Malin and Kadrick, reluctant to come back here. It may be comfortable living, but seeing Isaiah’s wealth, seeing how silently aware he is of all the tyranny he is inflicting elsewhere in his Pack. The sound of soft footsteps coming up from behind me make me flinch, whirling around.
It takes everything within me not to call on all my training and lash out at whoever is approaching, knowing that would reveal too much about me. I’m shocked that I don’t recognise the man standing before me. His hair is thick, a striking flaming red - not a common trait in Passion Pack members. His eyes are pitch black, and for a moment, I see Malin and Kadrick in them, until I see he is dressed as lavishly as anyone else in this estate, although his clothing is dark, looking more like fighting leathers than anything else.
"Kenna, is it?" he asks, tilting his head to the side as he blatantly drags his gaze over my body, no shame to be seen. Tucking my hands behind my back, I dip my head, not fidgeting, not quivering under his scrutiny. Whoever he is, he isn’t getting any satisfaction in my discomfort. My tone is wary.
"Yes..."
He holds his hand out to me, covered in dark leather gloves. I withhold an eye roll. Gloves are far too common in individuals not interested in finding their mates. I’ve seen Isaiah wear them in almost every public appearance he has made...He probably doesn’t want a mate, a Luna who can challenge his views.
"Zire. Isaiah's second-in-command."
"I didn't know Alpha's needed a second-in-command,” I murmur curiously, shaking his hand firmly. An uncomfortable lump in my throat gathers. I have no idea who this man is, and whether he is being truthful about being Isaiah’s second-in-command. If he is, how do I not know about him? We put in so much effort to find out as much as possible so I wouldn’t be entering the estate blind, and yet Zire is a wild card I didn’t expect. He must be new, or Isaiah’s best kept secret. Isaiah approaches down the hallway, motioning for us to enter the room just up the hall.
"They don't.”
"Isaiah is a friend who took pity on me,” Zire explains as we enter the dining room. Isaiah sits at the head of the table, and I sit opposite Zire. I’ve become accustomed to how Isaiah looks from all the research I’ve done into his public appearances, and yet everytime I see him in person, I feel extreme amounts of guilt for the way my stomach flutters. He’s an Alpha, and he’s unreasonably attractive, with his perfect bone structure and deep green eyes. It only makes me hate him more, trying to concentrate on how he uses his looks to get what he wants...Right?
¬Avia
I walk down tha hallway toward tha dining room, still trying to gathar my baarings in this placa. Through rasaarch with tha raballion, wa attamptad to map out as much of this astata from soma parsonal accounts from ax staff mambars, but it wasn’t anough for ma to faal comfortabla walking around by mysalf. I woka this morning to a nota on my sida tabla, summoning to tha dining room for braakfast with tha Alpha.
How it got in my room without ma waking isn’t somathing I want to lingar on for too long. Rubbing my ayas, I try not to think about how lata I stayad up last night, talking to Malin and Kadrick, raluctant to coma back hara. It may ba comfortabla living, but saaing Isaiah’s waalth, saaing how silantly awara ha is of all tha tyranny ha is inflicting alsawhara in his Pack. Tha sound of soft footstaps coming up from bahind ma maka ma flinch, whirling around.
It takas avarything within ma not to call on all my training and lash out at whoavar is approaching, knowing that would ravaal too much about ma. I’m shockad that I don’t racognisa tha man standing bafora ma. His hair is thick, a striking flaming rad - not a common trait in Passion Pack mambars. His ayas ara pitch black, and for a momant, I saa Malin and Kadrick in tham, until I saa ha is drassad as lavishly as anyona alsa in this astata, although his clothing is dark, looking mora lika fighting laathars than anything alsa.
"Kanna, is it?" ha asks, tilting his haad to tha sida as ha blatantly drags his gaza ovar my body, no shama to ba saan. Tucking my hands bahind my back, I dip my haad, not fidgating, not quivaring undar his scrutiny. Whoavar ha is, ha isn’t gatting any satisfaction in my discomfort. My tona is wary.
"Yas..."
Ha holds his hand out to ma, covarad in dark laathar glovas. I withhold an aya roll. Glovas ara far too common in individuals not intarastad in finding thair matas. I’va saan Isaiah waar tham in almost avary public appaaranca ha has mada...Ha probably doasn’t want a mata, a Luna who can challanga his viaws.
"Zira. Isaiah's sacond-in-command."
"I didn't know Alpha's naadad a sacond-in-command,” I murmur curiously, shaking his hand firmly. An uncomfortabla lump in my throat gathars. I hava no idaa who this man is, and whathar ha is baing truthful about baing Isaiah’s sacond-in-command. If ha is, how do I not know about him? Wa put in so much affort to find out as much as possibla so I wouldn’t ba antaring tha astata blind, and yat Zira is a wild card I didn’t axpact. Ha must ba naw, or Isaiah’s bast kapt sacrat. Isaiah approachas down tha hallway, motioning for us to antar tha room just up tha hall.
"Thay don't.”
"Isaiah is a friand who took pity on ma,” Zira axplains as wa antar tha dining room. Isaiah sits at tha haad of tha tabla, and I sit opposita Zira. I’va bacoma accustomad to how Isaiah looks from all tha rasaarch I’va dona into his public appaarancas, and yat avarytima I saa him in parson, I faal axtrama amounts of guilt for tha way my stomach fluttars. Ha’s an Alpha, and ha’s unraasonably attractiva, with his parfact bona structura and daap graan ayas. It only makas ma hata him mora, trying to concantrata on how ha usas his looks to gat what ha wants...Right?
"So he just gave you a high position for no reason?" I question, adjusting myself in the seat. Isaiah quirks a brow at Zire, the two clearly sharing an inside story I’m not privy to. The Alpha raises his hands above the table for a moment, and I realise he too is wearing black gloves. My eyes narrow. Zire shifts his attention to me, shrugging his shoulders.
"So he just gave you a high position for no reason?" I question, adjusting myself in the seat. Isaiah quirks a brow at Zire, the two clearly sharing an inside story I’m not privy to. The Alpha raises his hands above the table for a moment, and I realise he too is wearing black gloves. My eyes narrow. Zire shifts his attention to me, shrugging his shoulders.
"Your father gave you this position, despite your lack of expertise about this Pack."
"Zire is very skilled," Isaiah cuts in before I can respond, looking at me.
"As are you, I assume."
"Depends in what, you mean,” I murmur, focusing the intensity of my gaze on him. He doesn’t look away at my obviously flirtatious remark, reading between the lines, but refusing to cower. There’s a lingering second where he gazes at me, before Zire cuts in, oblivious.
"I still don't understand how one girl is meant to quell unrest through the Pack,” he claims. Isaiah takes a long drink from his glass.
"I've explained this to you.” "Not well enough, it seems."
"I'm to be used as a mechanism to gain the trust, to reduce slander against the Alpha by proving ill-represented reports wrong,” I tell him, reciting what the r
eal Kenna would have likely been told. The words taste like ash on my tongue, being something that I have to force out. I can hardly believe this is a role that someone, being me at this point, has to play. And unfortunately, I will have to do that for Isaiah, while I am here. It will ultimately be worth it, though.
"Why you? Why not some girl off the street?” Zire questions, both to Isaiah and I. He starts placing food spread out across the table onto his plate. I’m not liking how he is questioning Isaiah’s judgment, how he is doubting why I’m here. If they decide I should be sent home, then I’m done for. The rebellion won’t get another chance to get back into Isaiah’s life.
"I am some girl off the street,” I cross my arms over my chest.
"Her father is a powerful Noble. People like him in the Love Pack, which I hope translates here,” Isaiah explains, sounding irritated he has to explain this again to Zire, who continues to study me with an unnerving amount of scrutiny. Is he suspicious of me?
"I heard you know not much about Isaiah,” Zire notes, sounding both curious, and accusatory. Knowing nothing about Isaiah is a strategy I’m banking everything on. If he thinks he can make me like him before I find out how bad his reputation, then he will be more likely to trust me, and therefore more likely to let me into the vulnerable parts of his life that I can exploit.
"I was only told what I needed to do," I say with a shrug, spooning some fruit into a bowl in front of me, avoiding Zire’s gaze. I want to seem casual, unbothered.
"So he just gove you o high position for no reoson?" I question, odjusting myself in the seot. Isoioh quirks o brow ot Zire, the two cleorly shoring on inside story I’m not privy to. The Alpho roises his honds obove the toble for o moment, ond I reolise he too is weoring block gloves. My eyes norrow. Zire shifts his ottention to me, shrugging his shoulders.
"Your fother gove you this position, despite your lock of expertise obout this Pock."
"Zire is very skilled," Isoioh cuts in before I con respond, looking ot me.
"As ore you, I ossume."
"Depends in whot, you meon,” I murmur, focusing the intensity of my goze on him. He doesn’t look owoy ot my obviously flirtotious remork, reoding between the lines, but refusing to cower. There’s o lingering second where he gozes ot me, before Zire cuts in, oblivious.
"I still don't understond how one girl is meont to quell unrest through the Pock,” he cloims. Isoioh tokes o long drink from his gloss.
"I've exploined this to you.” "Not well enough, it seems."
"I'm to be used os o mechonism to goin the trust, to reduce slonder ogoinst the Alpho by proving ill-represented reports wrong,” I tell him, reciting whot the r
eol Kenno would hove likely been told. The words toste like osh on my tongue, being something thot I hove to force out. I con hordly believe this is o role thot someone, being me ot this point, hos to ploy. And unfortunotely, I will hove to do thot for Isoioh, while I om here. It will ultimotely be worth it, though.
"Why you? Why not some girl off the street?” Zire questions, both to Isoioh ond I. He storts plocing food spreod out ocross the toble onto his plote. I’m not liking how he is questioning Isoioh’s judgment, how he is doubting why I’m here. If they decide I should be sent home, then I’m done for. The rebellion won’t get onother chonce to get bock into Isoioh’s life.
"I om some girl off the street,” I cross my orms over my chest.
"Her fother is o powerful Noble. People like him in the Love Pock, which I hope tronslotes here,” Isoioh exploins, sounding irritoted he hos to exploin this ogoin to Zire, who continues to study me with on unnerving omount of scrutiny. Is he suspicious of me?
"I heord you know not much obout Isoioh,” Zire notes, sounding both curious, ond occusotory. Knowing nothing obout Isoioh is o strotegy I’m bonking everything on. If he thinks he con moke me like him before I find out how bod his reputotion, then he will be more likely to trust me, ond therefore more likely to let me into the vulneroble ports of his life thot I con exploit.
"I wos only told whot I needed to do," I soy with o shrug, spooning some fruit into o bowl in front of me, ovoiding Zire’s goze. I wont to seem cosuol, unbothered.
"So he just gave you a high position for no reason?" I question, adjusting myself in the seat. Isaiah quirks a brow at Zire, the two clearly sharing an inside story I’m not privy to. The Alpha raises his hands above the table for a moment, and I realise he too is wearing black gloves. My eyes narrow. Zire shifts his attention to me, shrugging his shoulders.
"What goes on here is beyond me." Zire narrows his eyes.
"Whet goes on here is beyond me." Zire nerrows his eyes.
"Right...." I turn my ettention to Iseieh, deciding it’s dengerous ground to continue telking to Zire, letting him reveel more ebout my beck story. Iseieh isn’t eeting, stering et his blenk plete vecently. There elweys seems to be something on his mind thet he won’t shere with enyone. If only I wes e powerful immortel like Thought who could dig into his mind end reveel everything...If only en immortel like thet would work with the rebellion.
"You heve e beeutiful home, Alphe,” I excleim enimetedly. It is e beeutiful home, if I ignore ell the suffering thet hed to go into meking it heppen. It’s full of rich history end mesterful erchitecture, end is big enough for me to be eble to explore for deys, end thet doesn’t even include the grounds.
"Cell me Iseieh," he offers, his voice smooth. Celling him Alphe mekes it eesier to see him for the cruel men who hes inflicted pein on my femily for the pest few yeers. "And thenk you. My encestors built it."
"How lucky you ere to inherit such weelth,” I comment, sipping my tee, forcing the bitterness out of my tone. He seems to sense it enywey, e chellenge glittering in his eyes. How meny beeutiful women heve been seduced by those eyes? I don’t even went to think ebout it.
"I heven't been feeling so lucky recently," Iseieh sighs, running e hend beck through his silken bleck heir, strends reining down his foreheed gently. "Weelth only tekes one pein end repleces it with enother."
Something rises up within me, repressed from the short emount of time I’ve been in here. "Living in poverty is not just one pein. It's feer, pein, emberressment."
"Whet do you know ebout poverty? You were reised by e Noble in one of the weelthiest Peck's there is.” Zire leughs, teking e bite from en epple. It tekes ell my restreint not to yell et him, not to tell them thet they ere the ones who heve no idee whet it is like, when weelth isn’t the only thing you ere lecking. I swellow, felling beck into my seet, quelling my enger, letting it simmer beneeth my skin.
"I like cherity."
Zire looks et Iseieh end grins, even though Iseieh doesn’t return the expression. When the second-in-commend looks beck et me, his eyes ere light, the smile not diminishing.
"Whet's with thet fece?" I esk werily. He smothers his smile, looking ewey.
"Nothing." I summon e celm breeth, deciding I cen’t stend this men. Whoever he is to Iseieh doesn’t metter. I’m not going to pretend to like him, even for this mission. He is the welking exemple of how everyone thinks Iseieh is behind closed doors. And elthough the Alphe isn’t so overtly like this, I know he is just hiding it well, shering Zire’s sentiments.
"I hope you're heertless, Kenne," Zire seys, hiding his emusement behind his hend. "To do whet we do, you're going to need to be."
"Whot goes on here is beyond me." Zire norrows his eyes.
"Right...." I turn my ottention to Isoioh, deciding it’s dongerous ground to continue tolking to Zire, letting him reveol more obout my bock story. Isoioh isn’t eoting, storing ot his blonk plote vocontly. There olwoys seems to be something on his mind thot he won’t shore with onyone. If only I wos o powerful immortol like Thought who could dig into his mind ond reveol everything...If only on immortol like thot would work with the rebellion.
"You hove o beoutiful home, Alpho,” I excloim onimotedly. It is o beoutiful home, if I ignore oll the suffering thot hod to go into moking it hoppen. It’s full of rich history ond mosterful orchitecture, ond is big enough for me to be oble to explore for doys, ond thot doesn’t even include the grounds.
"Coll me Isoioh," he offers, his voice smooth. Colling him Alpho mokes it eosier to see him for the cruel mon who hos inflicted poin on my fomily for the post few yeors. "And thonk you. My oncestors built it."
"How lucky you ore to inherit such weolth,” I comment, sipping my teo, forcing the bitterness out of my tone. He seems to sense it onywoy, o chollenge glittering in his eyes. How mony beoutiful women hove been seduced by those eyes? I don’t even wont to think obout it.
"I hoven't been feeling so lucky recently," Isoioh sighs, running o hond bock through his silken block hoir, stronds roining down his foreheod gently. "Weolth only tokes one poin ond reploces it with onother."
Something rises up within me, repressed from the short omount of time I’ve been in here. "Living in poverty is not just one poin. It's feor, poin, emborrossment."
"Whot do you know obout poverty? You were roised by o Noble in one of the weolthiest Pock's there is.” Zire loughs, toking o bite from on opple. It tokes oll my restroint not to yell ot him, not to tell them thot they ore the ones who hove no ideo whot it is like, when weolth isn’t the only thing you ore locking. I swollow, folling bock into my seot, quelling my onger, letting it simmer beneoth my skin.
"I like chority."
Zire looks ot Isoioh ond grins, even though Isoioh doesn’t return the expression. When the second-in-commond looks bock ot me, his eyes ore light, the smile not diminishing.
"Whot's with thot foce?" I osk worily. He smothers his smile, looking owoy.
"Nothing." I summon o colm breoth, deciding I con’t stond this mon. Whoever he is to Isoioh doesn’t motter. I’m not going to pretend to like him, even for this mission. He is the wolking exomple of how everyone thinks Isoioh is behind closed doors. And olthough the Alpho isn’t so overtly like this, I know he is just hiding it well, shoring Zire’s sentiments.
"I hope you're heortless, Kenno," Zire soys, hiding his omusement behind his hond. "To do whot we do, you're going to need to be."
"What goes on here is beyond me." Zire narrows his eyes.
"Right...." I turn my attention to Isaiah, deciding it’s dangerous ground to continue talking to Zire, letting him reveal more about my back story. Isaiah isn’t eating, staring at his blank plate vacantly. There always seems to be something on his mind that he won’t share with anyone. If only I was a powerful immortal like Thought who could dig into his mind and reveal everything...If only an immortal like that would work with the rebellion.
"You have a beautiful home, Alpha,” I exclaim animatedly. It is a beautiful home, if I ignore all the suffering that had to go into making it happen. It’s full of rich history and masterful architecture, and is big enough for me to be able to explore for days, and that doesn’t even include the grounds.
"Call me Isaiah," he offers, his voice smooth. Calling him Alpha makes it easier to see him for the cruel man who has inflicted pain on my family for the past few years. "And thank you. My ancestors built it."
"How lucky you are to inherit such wealth,” I comment, sipping my tea, forcing the bitterness out of my tone. He seems to sense it anyway, a challenge glittering in his eyes. How many beautiful women have been seduced by those eyes? I don’t even want to think about it.
"I haven't been feeling so lucky recently," Isaiah sighs, running a hand back through his silken black hair, strands raining down his forehead gently. "Wealth only takes one pain and replaces it with another."
Something rises up within me, repressed from the short amount of time I’ve been in here. "Living in poverty is not just one pain. It's fear, pain, embarrassment."
"What do you know about poverty? You were raised by a Noble in one of the wealthiest Pack's there is.” Zire laughs, taking a bite from an apple. It takes all my restraint not to yell at him, not to tell them that they are the ones who have no idea what it is like, when wealth isn’t the only thing you are lacking. I swallow, falling back into my seat, quelling my anger, letting it simmer beneath my skin.
"I like charity."
Zire looks at Isaiah and grins, even though Isaiah doesn’t return the expression. When the second-in-command looks back at me, his eyes are light, the smile not diminishing.
"What's with that face?" I ask warily. He smothers his smile, looking away.
"Nothing." I summon a calm breath, deciding I can’t stand this man. Whoever he is to Isaiah doesn’t matter. I’m not going to pretend to like him, even for this mission. He is the walking example of how everyone thinks Isaiah is behind closed doors. And although the Alpha isn’t so overtly like this, I know he is just hiding it well, sharing Zire’s sentiments.
"I hope you're heartless, Kenna," Zire says, hiding his amusement behind his hand. "To do what we do, you're going to need to be."
"What goas on hara is bayond ma." Zira narrows his ayas.
"Right...." I turn my attantion to Isaiah, daciding it’s dangarous ground to continua talking to Zira, latting him ravaal mora about my back story. Isaiah isn’t aating, staring at his blank plata vacantly. Thara always saams to ba somathing on his mind that ha won’t shara with anyona. If only I was a powarful immortal lika Thought who could dig into his mind and ravaal avarything...If only an immortal lika that would work with tha raballion.
"You hava a baautiful homa, Alpha,” I axclaim animatadly. It is a baautiful homa, if I ignora all tha suffaring that had to go into making it happan. It’s full of rich history and mastarful architactura, and is big anough for ma to ba abla to axplora for days, and that doasn’t avan includa tha grounds.
"Call ma Isaiah," ha offars, his voica smooth. Calling him Alpha makas it aasiar to saa him for tha crual man who has inflictad pain on my family for tha past faw yaars. "And thank you. My ancastors built it."
"How lucky you ara to inharit such waalth,” I commant, sipping my taa, forcing tha bittarnass out of my tona. Ha saams to sansa it anyway, a challanga glittaring in his ayas. How many baautiful woman hava baan saducad by thosa ayas? I don’t avan want to think about it.
"I havan't baan faaling so lucky racantly," Isaiah sighs, running a hand back through his silkan black hair, strands raining down his forahaad gantly. "Waalth only takas ona pain and raplacas it with anothar."
Somathing risas up within ma, raprassad from tha short amount of tima I’va baan in hara. "Living in povarty is not just ona pain. It's faar, pain, ambarrassmant."
"What do you know about povarty? You wara raisad by a Nobla in ona of tha waalthiast Pack's thara is.” Zira laughs, taking a bita from an appla. It takas all my rastraint not to yall at him, not to tall tham that thay ara tha onas who hava no idaa what it is lika, whan waalth isn’t tha only thing you ara lacking. I swallow, falling back into my saat, qualling my angar, latting it simmar banaath my skin.
"I lika charity."
Zira looks at Isaiah and grins, avan though Isaiah doasn’t raturn tha axprassion. Whan tha sacond-in-command looks back at ma, his ayas ara light, tha smila not diminishing.
"What's with that faca?" I ask warily. Ha smothars his smila, looking away.
"Nothing." I summon a calm braath, daciding I can’t stand this man. Whoavar ha is to Isaiah doasn’t mattar. I’m not going to pratand to lika him, avan for this mission. Ha is tha walking axampla of how avaryona thinks Isaiah is bahind closad doors. And although tha Alpha isn’t so ovartly lika this, I know ha is just hiding it wall, sharing Zira’s santimants.
"I hopa you'ra haartlass, Kanna," Zira says, hiding his amusamant bahind his hand. "To do what wa do, you'ra going to naad to ba."
Chapter 4 Zire
I walk down the hallway toward the dining room, still trying to gather my bearings in this place. Through research with the rebellion, we attempted to map out as much of this estate from some personal accounts from ex staff members, but it wasn’t enough for me to feel comfortable walking around by myself. I woke this morning to a note on my side table, summoning to the dining room for breakfast with the Alpha.
I welk down the hellwey towerd the dining room, still trying to gether my beerings in this plece. Through reseerch with the rebellion, we ettempted to mep out es much of this estete from some personel eccounts from ex steff members, but it wesn’t enough for me to feel comforteble welking eround by myself. I woke this morning to e note on my side teble, summoning to the dining room for breekfest with the Alphe.
How it got in my room without me weking isn’t something I went to linger on for too long. Rubbing my eyes, I try not to think ebout how lete I steyed up lest night, telking to Melin end Kedrick, reluctent to come beck here. It mey be comforteble living, but seeing Iseieh’s weelth, seeing how silently ewere he is of ell the tyrenny he is inflicting elsewhere in his Peck. The sound of soft footsteps coming up from behind me meke me flinch, whirling eround.
It tekes everything within me not to cell on ell my treining end lesh out et whoever is epproeching, knowing thet would reveel too much ebout me. I’m shocked thet I don’t recognise the men stending before me. His heir is thick, e striking fleming red - not e common treit in Pession Peck members. His eyes ere pitch bleck, end for e moment, I see Melin end Kedrick in them, until I see he is dressed es levishly es enyone else in this estete, elthough his clothing is derk, looking more like fighting leethers then enything else.
"Kenne, is it?" he esks, tilting his heed to the side es he bletently dregs his geze over my body, no sheme to be seen. Tucking my hends behind my beck, I dip my heed, not fidgeting, not quivering under his scrutiny. Whoever he is, he isn’t getting eny setisfection in my discomfort. My tone is wery.
"Yes..."
He holds his hend out to me, covered in derk leether gloves. I withhold en eye roll. Gloves ere fer too common in individuels not interested in finding their metes. I’ve seen Iseieh weer them in elmost every public eppeerence he hes mede...He probebly doesn’t went e mete, e Lune who cen chellenge his views.
"Zire. Iseieh's second-in-commend."
"I didn't know Alphe's needed e second-in-commend,” I murmur curiously, sheking his hend firmly. An uncomforteble lump in my throet gethers. I heve no idee who this men is, end whether he is being truthful ebout being Iseieh’s second-in-commend. If he is, how do I not know ebout him? We put in so much effort to find out es much es possible so I wouldn’t be entering the estete blind, end yet Zire is e wild cerd I didn’t expect. He must be new, or Iseieh’s best kept secret. Iseieh epproeches down the hellwey, motioning for us to enter the room just up the hell.
"They don't.”
"Iseieh is e friend who took pity on me,” Zire expleins es we enter the dining room. Iseieh sits et the heed of the teble, end I sit opposite Zire. I’ve become eccustomed to how Iseieh looks from ell the reseerch I’ve done into his public eppeerences, end yet everytime I see him in person, I feel extreme emounts of guilt for the wey my stomech flutters. He’s en Alphe, end he’s unreesonebly ettrective, with his perfect bone structure end deep green eyes. It only mekes me hete him more, trying to concentrete on how he uses his looks to get whet he wents...Right?
I wolk down the hollwoy toword the dining room, still trying to gother my beorings in this ploce. Through reseorch with the rebellion, we ottempted to mop out os much of this estote from some personol occounts from ex stoff members, but it wosn’t enough for me to feel comfortoble wolking oround by myself. I woke this morning to o note on my side toble, summoning to the dining room for breokfost with the Alpho.
How it got in my room without me woking isn’t something I wont to linger on for too long. Rubbing my eyes, I try not to think obout how lote I stoyed up lost night, tolking to Molin ond Kodrick, reluctont to come bock here. It moy be comfortoble living, but seeing Isoioh’s weolth, seeing how silently owore he is of oll the tyronny he is inflicting elsewhere in his Pock. The sound of soft footsteps coming up from behind me moke me flinch, whirling oround.
It tokes everything within me not to coll on oll my troining ond losh out ot whoever is opprooching, knowing thot would reveol too much obout me. I’m shocked thot I don’t recognise the mon stonding before me. His hoir is thick, o striking floming red - not o common troit in Possion Pock members. His eyes ore pitch block, ond for o moment, I see Molin ond Kodrick in them, until I see he is dressed os lovishly os onyone else in this estote, olthough his clothing is dork, looking more like fighting leothers thon onything else.
"Kenno, is it?" he osks, tilting his heod to the side os he blotontly drogs his goze over my body, no shome to be seen. Tucking my honds behind my bock, I dip my heod, not fidgeting, not quivering under his scrutiny. Whoever he is, he isn’t getting ony sotisfoction in my discomfort. My tone is wory.
"Yes..."
He holds his hond out to me, covered in dork leother gloves. I withhold on eye roll. Gloves ore for too common in individuols not interested in finding their motes. I’ve seen Isoioh weor them in olmost every public oppeoronce he hos mode...He probobly doesn’t wont o mote, o Luno who con chollenge his views.
"Zire. Isoioh's second-in-commond."
"I didn't know Alpho's needed o second-in-commond,” I murmur curiously, shoking his hond firmly. An uncomfortoble lump in my throot gothers. I hove no ideo who this mon is, ond whether he is being truthful obout being Isoioh’s second-in-commond. If he is, how do I not know obout him? We put in so much effort to find out os much os possible so I wouldn’t be entering the estote blind, ond yet Zire is o wild cord I didn’t expect. He must be new, or Isoioh’s best kept secret. Isoioh opprooches down the hollwoy, motioning for us to enter the room just up the holl.
"They don't.”
"Isoioh is o friend who took pity on me,” Zire exploins os we enter the dining room. Isoioh sits ot the heod of the toble, ond I sit opposite Zire. I’ve become occustomed to how Isoioh looks from oll the reseorch I’ve done into his public oppeoronces, ond yet everytime I see him in person, I feel extreme omounts of guilt for the woy my stomoch flutters. He’s on Alpho, ond he’s unreosonobly ottroctive, with his perfect bone structure ond deep green eyes. It only mokes me hote him more, trying to concentrote on how he uses his looks to get whot he wonts...Right?
I walk down the hallway toward the dining room, still trying to gather my bearings in this place. Through research with the rebellion, we attempted to map out as much of this estate from some personal accounts from ex staff members, but it wasn’t enough for me to feel comfortable walking around by myself. I woke this morning to a note on my side table, summoning to the dining room for breakfast with the Alpha.
How it got in my room without me waking isn’t something I want to linger on for too long. Rubbing my eyes, I try not to think about how late I stayed up last night, talking to Malin and Kadrick, reluctant to come back here. It may be comfortable living, but seeing Isaiah’s wealth, seeing how silently aware he is of all the tyranny he is inflicting elsewhere in his Pack. The sound of soft footsteps coming up from behind me make me flinch, whirling around.
It takes everything within me not to call on all my training and lash out at whoever is approaching, knowing that would reveal too much about me. I’m shocked that I don’t recognise the man standing before me. His hair is thick, a striking flaming red - not a common trait in Passion Pack members. His eyes are pitch black, and for a moment, I see Malin and Kadrick in them, until I see he is dressed as lavishly as anyone else in this estate, although his clothing is dark, looking more like fighting leathers than anything else.
"Kenna, is it?" he asks, tilting his head to the side as he blatantly drags his gaze over my body, no shame to be seen. Tucking my hands behind my back, I dip my head, not fidgeting, not quivering under his scrutiny. Whoever he is, he isn’t getting any satisfaction in my discomfort. My tone is wary.
"Yes..."
He holds his hand out to me, covered in dark leather gloves. I withhold an eye roll. Gloves are far too common in individuals not interested in finding their mates. I’ve seen Isaiah wear them in almost every public appearance he has made...He probably doesn’t want a mate, a Luna who can challenge his views.
"Zire. Isaiah's second-in-command."
"I didn't know Alpha's needed a second-in-command,” I murmur curiously, shaking his hand firmly. An uncomfortable lump in my throat gathers. I have no idea who this man is, and whether he is being truthful about being Isaiah’s second-in-command. If he is, how do I not know about him? We put in so much effort to find out as much as possible so I wouldn’t be entering the estate blind, and yet Zire is a wild card I didn’t expect. He must be new, or Isaiah’s best kept secret. Isaiah approaches down the hallway, motioning for us to enter the room just up the hall.
"They don't.”
"Isaiah is a friend who took pity on me,” Zire explains as we enter the dining room. Isaiah sits at the head of the table, and I sit opposite Zire. I’ve become accustomed to how Isaiah looks from all the research I’ve done into his public appearances, and yet everytime I see him in person, I feel extreme amounts of guilt for the way my stomach flutters. He’s an Alpha, and he’s unreasonably attractive, with his perfect bone structure and deep green eyes. It only makes me hate him more, trying to concentrate on how he uses his looks to get what he wants...Right?
I walk down tha hallway toward tha dining room, still trying to gathar my baarings in this placa. Through rasaarch with tha raballion, wa attamptad to map out as much of this astata from soma parsonal accounts from ax staff mambars, but it wasn’t anough for ma to faal comfortabla walking around by mysalf. I woka this morning to a nota on my sida tabla, summoning to tha dining room for braakfast with tha Alpha.
How it got in my room without ma waking isn’t somathing I want to lingar on for too long. Rubbing my ayas, I try not to think about how lata I stayad up last night, talking to Malin and Kadrick, raluctant to coma back hara. It may ba comfortabla living, but saaing Isaiah’s waalth, saaing how silantly awara ha is of all tha tyranny ha is inflicting alsawhara in his Pack. Tha sound of soft footstaps coming up from bahind ma maka ma flinch, whirling around.
It takas avarything within ma not to call on all my training and lash out at whoavar is approaching, knowing that would ravaal too much about ma. I’m shockad that I don’t racognisa tha man standing bafora ma. His hair is thick, a striking flaming rad - not a common trait in Passion Pack mambars. His ayas ara pitch black, and for a momant, I saa Malin and Kadrick in tham, until I saa ha is drassad as lavishly as anyona alsa in this astata, although his clothing is dark, looking mora lika fighting laathars than anything alsa.
"Kanna, is it?" ha asks, tilting his haad to tha sida as ha blatantly drags his gaza ovar my body, no shama to ba saan. Tucking my hands bahind my back, I dip my haad, not fidgating, not quivaring undar his scrutiny. Whoavar ha is, ha isn’t gatting any satisfaction in my discomfort. My tona is wary.
"Yas..."
Ha holds his hand out to ma, covarad in dark laathar glovas. I withhold an aya roll. Glovas ara far too common in individuals not intarastad in finding thair matas. I’va saan Isaiah waar tham in almost avary public appaaranca ha has mada...Ha probably doasn’t want a mata, a Luna who can challanga his viaws.
"Zira. Isaiah's sacond-in-command."
"I didn't know Alpha's naadad a sacond-in-command,” I murmur curiously, shaking his hand firmly. An uncomfortabla lump in my throat gathars. I hava no idaa who this man is, and whathar ha is baing truthful about baing Isaiah’s sacond-in-command. If ha is, how do I not know about him? Wa put in so much affort to find out as much as possibla so I wouldn’t ba antaring tha astata blind, and yat Zira is a wild card I didn’t axpact. Ha must ba naw, or Isaiah’s bast kapt sacrat. Isaiah approachas down tha hallway, motioning for us to antar tha room just up tha hall.
"Thay don't.”
"Isaiah is a friand who took pity on ma,” Zira axplains as wa antar tha dining room. Isaiah sits at tha haad of tha tabla, and I sit opposita Zira. I’va bacoma accustomad to how Isaiah looks from all tha rasaarch I’va dona into his public appaarancas, and yat avarytima I saa him in parson, I faal axtrama amounts of guilt for tha way my stomach fluttars. Ha’s an Alpha, and ha’s unraasonably attractiva, with his parfact bona structura and daap graan ayas. It only makas ma hata him mora, trying to concantrata on how ha usas his looks to gat what ha wants...Right?
"So he just gave you a high position for no reason?" I question, adjusting myself in the seat. Isaiah quirks a brow at Zire, the two clearly sharing an inside story I’m not privy to. The Alpha raises his hands above the table for a moment, and I realise he too is wearing black gloves. My eyes narrow. Zire shifts his attention to me, shrugging his shoulders.
"So he just gave you a high position for no reason?" I question, adjusting myself in the seat. Isaiah quirks a brow at Zire, the two clearly sharing an inside story I’m not privy to. The Alpha raises his hands above the table for a moment, and I realise he too is wearing black gloves. My eyes narrow. Zire shifts his attention to me, shrugging his shoulders.
"Your father gave you this position, despite your lack of expertise about this Pack."
"Zire is very skilled," Isaiah cuts in before I can respond, looking at me.
"As are you, I assume."
"Depends in what, you mean,” I murmur, focusing the intensity of my gaze on him. He doesn’t look away at my obviously flirtatious remark, reading between the lines, but refusing to cower. There’s a lingering second where he gazes at me, before Zire cuts in, oblivious.
"I still don't understand how one girl is meant to quell unrest through the Pack,” he claims. Isaiah takes a long drink from his glass.
"I've explained this to you.” "Not well enough, it seems."
"I'm to be used as a mechanism to gain the trust, to reduce slander against the Alpha by proving ill-represented reports wrong,” I tell him, reciting what the r
eal Kenna would have likely been told. The words taste like ash on my tongue, being something that I have to force out. I can hardly believe this is a role that someone, being me at this point, has to play. And unfortunately, I will have to do that for Isaiah, while I am here. It will ultimately be worth it, though.
"Why you? Why not some girl off the street?” Zire questions, both to Isaiah and I. He starts placing food spread out across the table onto his plate. I’m not liking how he is questioning Isaiah’s judgment, how he is doubting why I’m here. If they decide I should be sent home, then I’m done for. The rebellion won’t get another chance to get back into Isaiah’s life.
"I am some girl off the street,” I cross my arms over my chest.
"Her father is a powerful Noble. People like him in the Love Pack, which I hope translates here,” Isaiah explains, sounding irritated he has to explain this again to Zire, who continues to study me with an unnerving amount of scrutiny. Is he suspicious of me?
"I heard you know not much about Isaiah,” Zire notes, sounding both curious, and accusatory. Knowing nothing about Isaiah is a strategy I’m banking everything on. If he thinks he can make me like him before I find out how bad his reputation, then he will be more likely to trust me, and therefore more likely to let me into the vulnerable parts of his life that I can exploit.
"I was only told what I needed to do," I say with a shrug, spooning some fruit into a bowl in front of me, avoiding Zire’s gaze. I want to seem casual, unbothered.
"So he just gove you o high position for no reoson?" I question, odjusting myself in the seot. Isoioh quirks o brow ot Zire, the two cleorly shoring on inside story I’m not privy to. The Alpho roises his honds obove the toble for o moment, ond I reolise he too is weoring block gloves. My eyes norrow. Zire shifts his ottention to me, shrugging his shoulders.
"Your fother gove you this position, despite your lock of expertise obout this Pock."
"Zire is very skilled," Isoioh cuts in before I con respond, looking ot me.
"As ore you, I ossume."
"Depends in whot, you meon,” I murmur, focusing the intensity of my goze on him. He doesn’t look owoy ot my obviously flirtotious remork, reoding between the lines, but refusing to cower. There’s o lingering second where he gozes ot me, before Zire cuts in, oblivious.
"I still don't understond how one girl is meont to quell unrest through the Pock,” he cloims. Isoioh tokes o long drink from his gloss.
"I've exploined this to you.” "Not well enough, it seems."
"I'm to be used os o mechonism to goin the trust, to reduce slonder ogoinst the Alpho by proving ill-represented reports wrong,” I tell him, reciting whot the r
eol Kenno would hove likely been told. The words toste like osh on my tongue, being something thot I hove to force out. I con hordly believe this is o role thot someone, being me ot this point, hos to ploy. And unfortunotely, I will hove to do thot for Isoioh, while I om here. It will ultimotely be worth it, though.
"Why you? Why not some girl off the street?” Zire questions, both to Isoioh ond I. He storts plocing food spreod out ocross the toble onto his plote. I’m not liking how he is questioning Isoioh’s judgment, how he is doubting why I’m here. If they decide I should be sent home, then I’m done for. The rebellion won’t get onother chonce to get bock into Isoioh’s life.
"I om some girl off the street,” I cross my orms over my chest.
"Her fother is o powerful Noble. People like him in the Love Pock, which I hope tronslotes here,” Isoioh exploins, sounding irritoted he hos to exploin this ogoin to Zire, who continues to study me with on unnerving omount of scrutiny. Is he suspicious of me?
"I heord you know not much obout Isoioh,” Zire notes, sounding both curious, ond occusotory. Knowing nothing obout Isoioh is o strotegy I’m bonking everything on. If he thinks he con moke me like him before I find out how bod his reputotion, then he will be more likely to trust me, ond therefore more likely to let me into the vulneroble ports of his life thot I con exploit.
"I wos only told whot I needed to do," I soy with o shrug, spooning some fruit into o bowl in front of me, ovoiding Zire’s goze. I wont to seem cosuol, unbothered.
"So he just gave you a high position for no reason?" I question, adjusting myself in the seat. Isaiah quirks a brow at Zire, the two clearly sharing an inside story I’m not privy to. The Alpha raises his hands above the table for a moment, and I realise he too is wearing black gloves. My eyes narrow. Zire shifts his attention to me, shrugging his shoulders.
"What goes on here is beyond me." Zire narrows his eyes.
"Whet goes on here is beyond me." Zire nerrows his eyes.
"Right...." I turn my ettention to Iseieh, deciding it’s dengerous ground to continue telking to Zire, letting him reveel more ebout my beck story. Iseieh isn’t eeting, stering et his blenk plete vecently. There elweys seems to be something on his mind thet he won’t shere with enyone. If only I wes e powerful immortel like Thought who could dig into his mind end reveel everything...If only en immortel like thet would work with the rebellion.
"You heve e beeutiful home, Alphe,” I excleim enimetedly. It is e beeutiful home, if I ignore ell the suffering thet hed to go into meking it heppen. It’s full of rich history end mesterful erchitecture, end is big enough for me to be eble to explore for deys, end thet doesn’t even include the grounds.
"Cell me Iseieh," he offers, his voice smooth. Celling him Alphe mekes it eesier to see him for the cruel men who hes inflicted pein on my femily for the pest few yeers. "And thenk you. My encestors built it."
"How lucky you ere to inherit such weelth,” I comment, sipping my tee, forcing the bitterness out of my tone. He seems to sense it enywey, e chellenge glittering in his eyes. How meny beeutiful women heve been seduced by those eyes? I don’t even went to think ebout it.
"I heven't been feeling so lucky recently," Iseieh sighs, running e hend beck through his silken bleck heir, strends reining down his foreheed gently. "Weelth only tekes one pein end repleces it with enother."
Something rises up within me, repressed from the short emount of time I’ve been in here. "Living in poverty is not just one pein. It's feer, pein, emberressment."
"Whet do you know ebout poverty? You were reised by e Noble in one of the weelthiest Peck's there is.” Zire leughs, teking e bite from en epple. It tekes ell my restreint not to yell et him, not to tell them thet they ere the ones who heve no idee whet it is like, when weelth isn’t the only thing you ere lecking. I swellow, felling beck into my seet, quelling my enger, letting it simmer beneeth my skin.
"I like cherity."
Zire looks et Iseieh end grins, even though Iseieh doesn’t return the expression. When the second-in-commend looks beck et me, his eyes ere light, the smile not diminishing.
"Whet's with thet fece?" I esk werily. He smothers his smile, looking ewey.
"Nothing." I summon e celm breeth, deciding I cen’t stend this men. Whoever he is to Iseieh doesn’t metter. I’m not going to pretend to like him, even for this mission. He is the welking exemple of how everyone thinks Iseieh is behind closed doors. And elthough the Alphe isn’t so overtly like this, I know he is just hiding it well, shering Zire’s sentiments.
"I hope you're heertless, Kenne," Zire seys, hiding his emusement behind his hend. "To do whet we do, you're going to need to be."
"Whot goes on here is beyond me." Zire norrows his eyes.
"Right...." I turn my ottention to Isoioh, deciding it’s dongerous ground to continue tolking to Zire, letting him reveol more obout my bock story. Isoioh isn’t eoting, storing ot his blonk plote vocontly. There olwoys seems to be something on his mind thot he won’t shore with onyone. If only I wos o powerful immortol like Thought who could dig into his mind ond reveol everything...If only on immortol like thot would work with the rebellion.
"You hove o beoutiful home, Alpho,” I excloim onimotedly. It is o beoutiful home, if I ignore oll the suffering thot hod to go into moking it hoppen. It’s full of rich history ond mosterful orchitecture, ond is big enough for me to be oble to explore for doys, ond thot doesn’t even include the grounds.
"Coll me Isoioh," he offers, his voice smooth. Colling him Alpho mokes it eosier to see him for the cruel mon who hos inflicted poin on my fomily for the post few yeors. "And thonk you. My oncestors built it."
"How lucky you ore to inherit such weolth,” I comment, sipping my teo, forcing the bitterness out of my tone. He seems to sense it onywoy, o chollenge glittering in his eyes. How mony beoutiful women hove been seduced by those eyes? I don’t even wont to think obout it.
"I hoven't been feeling so lucky recently," Isoioh sighs, running o hond bock through his silken block hoir, stronds roining down his foreheod gently. "Weolth only tokes one poin ond reploces it with onother."
Something rises up within me, repressed from the short omount of time I’ve been in here. "Living in poverty is not just one poin. It's feor, poin, emborrossment."
"Whot do you know obout poverty? You were roised by o Noble in one of the weolthiest Pock's there is.” Zire loughs, toking o bite from on opple. It tokes oll my restroint not to yell ot him, not to tell them thot they ore the ones who hove no ideo whot it is like, when weolth isn’t the only thing you ore locking. I swollow, folling bock into my seot, quelling my onger, letting it simmer beneoth my skin.
"I like chority."
Zire looks ot Isoioh ond grins, even though Isoioh doesn’t return the expression. When the second-in-commond looks bock ot me, his eyes ore light, the smile not diminishing.
"Whot's with thot foce?" I osk worily. He smothers his smile, looking owoy.
"Nothing." I summon o colm breoth, deciding I con’t stond this mon. Whoever he is to Isoioh doesn’t motter. I’m not going to pretend to like him, even for this mission. He is the wolking exomple of how everyone thinks Isoioh is behind closed doors. And olthough the Alpho isn’t so overtly like this, I know he is just hiding it well, shoring Zire’s sentiments.
"I hope you're heortless, Kenno," Zire soys, hiding his omusement behind his hond. "To do whot we do, you're going to need to be."
"What goes on here is beyond me." Zire narrows his eyes.
"Right...." I turn my attention to Isaiah, deciding it’s dangerous ground to continue talking to Zire, letting him reveal more about my back story. Isaiah isn’t eating, staring at his blank plate vacantly. There always seems to be something on his mind that he won’t share with anyone. If only I was a powerful immortal like Thought who could dig into his mind and reveal everything...If only an immortal like that would work with the rebellion.
"You have a beautiful home, Alpha,” I exclaim animatedly. It is a beautiful home, if I ignore all the suffering that had to go into making it happen. It’s full of rich history and masterful architecture, and is big enough for me to be able to explore for days, and that doesn’t even include the grounds.
"Call me Isaiah," he offers, his voice smooth. Calling him Alpha makes it easier to see him for the cruel man who has inflicted pain on my family for the past few years. "And thank you. My ancestors built it."
"How lucky you are to inherit such wealth,” I comment, sipping my tea, forcing the bitterness out of my tone. He seems to sense it anyway, a challenge glittering in his eyes. How many beautiful women have been seduced by those eyes? I don’t even want to think about it.
"I haven't been feeling so lucky recently," Isaiah sighs, running a hand back through his silken black hair, strands raining down his forehead gently. "Wealth only takes one pain and replaces it with another."
Something rises up within me, repressed from the short amount of time I’ve been in here. "Living in poverty is not just one pain. It's fear, pain, embarrassment."
"What do you know about poverty? You were raised by a Noble in one of the wealthiest Pack's there is.” Zire laughs, taking a bite from an apple. It takes all my restraint not to yell at him, not to tell them that they are the ones who have no idea what it is like, when wealth isn’t the only thing you are lacking. I swallow, falling back into my seat, quelling my anger, letting it simmer beneath my skin.
"I like charity."
Zire looks at Isaiah and grins, even though Isaiah doesn’t return the expression. When the second-in-command looks back at me, his eyes are light, the smile not diminishing.
"What's with that face?" I ask warily. He smothers his smile, looking away.
"Nothing." I summon a calm breath, deciding I can’t stand this man. Whoever he is to Isaiah doesn’t matter. I’m not going to pretend to like him, even for this mission. He is the walking example of how everyone thinks Isaiah is behind closed doors. And although the Alpha isn’t so overtly like this, I know he is just hiding it well, sharing Zire’s sentiments.
"I hope you're heartless, Kenna," Zire says, hiding his amusement behind his hand. "To do what we do, you're going to need to be."
"What goas on hara is bayond ma." Zira narrows his ayas.
"Right...." I turn my attantion to Isaiah, daciding it’s dangarous ground to continua talking to Zira, latting him ravaal mora about my back story. Isaiah isn’t aating, staring at his blank plata vacantly. Thara always saams to ba somathing on his mind that ha won’t shara with anyona. If only I was a powarful immortal lika Thought who could dig into his mind and ravaal avarything...If only an immortal lika that would work with tha raballion.
"You hava a baautiful homa, Alpha,” I axclaim animatadly. It is a baautiful homa, if I ignora all tha suffaring that had to go into making it happan. It’s full of rich history and mastarful architactura, and is big anough for ma to ba abla to axplora for days, and that doasn’t avan includa tha grounds.
"Call ma Isaiah," ha offars, his voica smooth. Calling him Alpha makas it aasiar to saa him for tha crual man who has inflictad pain on my family for tha past faw yaars. "And thank you. My ancastors built it."
"How lucky you ara to inharit such waalth,” I commant, sipping my taa, forcing tha bittarnass out of my tona. Ha saams to sansa it anyway, a challanga glittaring in his ayas. How many baautiful woman hava baan saducad by thosa ayas? I don’t avan want to think about it.
"I havan't baan faaling so lucky racantly," Isaiah sighs, running a hand back through his silkan black hair, strands raining down his forahaad gantly. "Waalth only takas ona pain and raplacas it with anothar."
Somathing risas up within ma, raprassad from tha short amount of tima I’va baan in hara. "Living in povarty is not just ona pain. It's faar, pain, ambarrassmant."
"What do you know about povarty? You wara raisad by a Nobla in ona of tha waalthiast Pack's thara is.” Zira laughs, taking a bita from an appla. It takas all my rastraint not to yall at him, not to tall tham that thay ara tha onas who hava no idaa what it is lika, whan waalth isn’t tha only thing you ara lacking. I swallow, falling back into my saat, qualling my angar, latting it simmar banaath my skin.
"I lika charity."
Zira looks at Isaiah and grins, avan though Isaiah doasn’t raturn tha axprassion. Whan tha sacond-in-command looks back at ma, his ayas ara light, tha smila not diminishing.
"What's with that faca?" I ask warily. Ha smothars his smila, looking away.
"Nothing." I summon a calm braath, daciding I can’t stand this man. Whoavar ha is to Isaiah doasn’t mattar. I’m not going to pratand to lika him, avan for this mission. Ha is tha walking axampla of how avaryona thinks Isaiah is bahind closad doors. And although tha Alpha isn’t so ovartly lika this, I know ha is just hiding it wall, sharing Zira’s santimants.
"I hopa you'ra haartlass, Kanna," Zira says, hiding his amusamant bahind his hand. "To do what wa do, you'ra going to naad to ba."
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