Chapter 4 The Alphas Decision

Chapter 4: Chapter 4 The Alphas Decision

Talia’s POV

Kaelen did not slow down after we left the hall.

His presence filled the corridor, forcing servants and guards to move aside before he reached them. No one questioned where he was taking me. No one dared ask whether Cresswood consented.

At the end of the passage, he pushed open a set of carved doors and led me into a west receiving room.

It was smaller than the ceremonial hall, but warmer. A fire burned in the hearth, and tall windows overlooked the inner courtyard. I stood just inside the doorway, uncertain whether I should sit, remain standing, or wait for someone to tell me what would happen next.

Kaelen turned to Aldric.

"Bring the physician."

"And the council?" Aldric asked.

"They can wait."

Aldric bowed and left.

Kaelen looked at the torn edge of my sleeve. Celeste’s fingers had left a wrinkle in the fabric, but the cloth had not split.

"Sit," he said.

I lowered myself onto the nearest chair.

He remained standing across from me. His attention moved to my cheek, and something cold entered his expression.

I touched the swollen skin. "It is only a bruise."

"That is not for you to decide."

Before I could answer, the door opened again.

An older man entered carrying a leather case. He wore the dark gray coat of a pack physician, and his silver hair was tied at the nape of his neck. A young female assistant followed with bandages, jars, and a shallow bowl of water.

The physician glanced at Kaelen, then at me.

"May I examine her?"

"You may."

The doctor approached slowly, giving me enough time to see what he intended before touching me. He examined the cut inside my lip, the swelling along my cheekbone, and the faint ringing that still troubled my left ear.

"Any dizziness?"

"No."

"Nausea?"

"No."

"Blurred vision?"

I shook my head.

He pressed two fingers against my wrist, counting my pulse. Then he took my hand and turned it palm-up.

His brows drew together.

The skin across my palms was thick and cracked. Several cuts had reopened along my knuckles, and the scars from older injuries crossed one another in pale, uneven lines.

"These are not from today," he said.

"No."

"What caused them?"

"Work."

He glanced toward Kaelen.

The Alpha’s face had become very still.

The physician examined my other hand, then looked at the bruises along my forearms. His expression darkened as he assessed each one.

"Stand, please."

I obeyed.

He checked my breathing, my eyes, the color beneath my eyelids, and the strength of my pulse again. When he asked me to step onto the scale, I almost refused. No one in Cresswood had ever measured me for anything but punishment.

The physician stared at the result.

"How often do you eat?"

"Every day."

"That was not my question."

I lowered my gaze.

His mouth tightened. "She is severely underfed. Her pulse is weak, and her blood is likely deficient. The condition is not recent. She has been living with prolonged deprivation for years."

The room went silent.

Kaelen’s hand closed at his side.

The physician continued, "There are signs of untreated injuries, exhaustion, and poor healing. She needs regular meals, iron, rest, and supervision. No strenuous training. No trials until her strength improves."

"The trials will wait," Kaelen said.

The physician nodded and began applying salve to my cheek.

I watched Kaelen instead.

He had not raised his voice. He had not struck the wall or demanded that someone drag Vivienne before him. Yet the silence around him felt more dangerous than shouting would have been.

"Prepare food," he ordered. "Something warm and easy to digest. Send a healer with the Shadowfang party."

The assistant hurried from the room.

"And bring every remedy she needs."

"Yes, Alpha."

Kaelen’s eyes remained on the physician. "She will not return to the storage room."

The physician paused.

"She will not spend another night in Cresswood," Kaelen continued. "Prepare the Shadowfang residence for her arrival."

My breath caught.

He was not asking me.

He had already decided.

The physician finished treating my cheek and stepped back. "She should rest before the ceremony."

"The ceremony will proceed tonight."

I looked at him. "Tonight?"

Kaelen turned toward me.

"The bond has been confirmed. The wedding will take place before we leave."

I should have felt trapped. Perhaps I did. But beneath the fear was something I had not expected to find.

Relief.

I would not go back to the storage room. I would not wake tomorrow to Celeste’s voice or Vivienne’s orders. Whatever waited beyond Cresswood, it could not be worse than the life I was leaving behind.

The physician bowed and departed with his assistant.

For a while, neither of us spoke.

Then I touched my cheek again.

"Are you disappointed?"

Kaelen’s eyes narrowed slightly. "By what?"

"By me."

He did not answer immediately.

I forced myself to continue. "The stone chose someone you had never seen. Someone who looks like this." My fingers curled against my dress. "I know what people see when they look at me."

"I have eyes," he said.

The bluntness stung more than I expected.

Then he continued, "I know what most people consider beautiful. I also know the difference between ugliness and neglect."

I looked up.

His gaze moved over my unbrushed hair, my borrowed dress, my bruised cheek, and my thin wrists.

"You have been underfed, overworked, and left without care," he said. "That is what I see."

My throat tightened.

"And if I had been cared for?"

"Then you would not be sitting here asking whether you are ugly."

The answer was so certain that I could not look away.

He crossed to the door and opened it.

A woman in a dark blue dress stood waiting outside. She was older than me, with calm eyes and silver threaded through her brown hair.

Kaelen addressed her without turning.

"Prepare a bath. Warm water. Bring clean clothes, medicine, and food first. The ceremony gown should be simple and properly fitted."

"Yes, Alpha."

"She has a wound on her cheek. No one touches her without warning her first."

The woman bowed.

Kaelen finally looked back at me.

"You will wash, eat, and rest before the ceremony."

It was an order.

For fifteen years, every order had meant less food, more work, or another locked door.

This one meant warmth, clean clothes, and a way out.

I stood.

Kaelen stepped aside, leaving the doorway clear.

He had not asked whether I wanted to leave Cresswood. He had simply decided that I would.

For the first time in my life, someone else’s decision did not feel like a punishment.

I followed the servant into the corridor.

Behind me, Kaelen began issuing orders about medicine, provisions, and the journey ahead.

I did not look back.

But I did not need to.

He had already chosen what would happen next.

And, for reasons I did not yet understand, I was willing to let him.