Claimed by the Vengeful Alpha

Chapter 112: Hopeful

"Are you leaving?" She softly asked.

She didn’t look at him as she asked; rather, she fiddled with her hands, only glancing at him occasionally but never holding his stare.

He had heard Richard’s words as he left, and she had briefly glanced at him at that moment as if expecting some reaction.

"Why?" He heard himself ask, watching her closely.

She shrugged and fiddled even more with her fingers. "I was just wondering," she mumbled.

He wasn’t exactly leaving, but he hadn’t thought about staying either. Now that the physician was gone, he had no business here and had enough work to attend to.

The town didn’t run itself, and with his beta in a different house, things were slightly complicated. Well, not like that mattered much—he was the only one who could really handle the documents.

He was grateful to Claude; it was still impressive how the Alpha could have taught him so much in the midst of war. It made things a lot easier for him.

There was no question the town was stunted. Not only did the war affect them but the mines too. He would have to do something about it soon. Keenan glanced at her as a thought crossed his mind. He didn’t like it.

He didn’t trust her, and worse, he didn’t understand what she was trying to do. Distrust was one thing, but what was her goal? He doubted it would be to his benefit.

He pushed himself upward as he stood up from his seat. Staying too long in her presence made him think of unnecessary things. He had to get out of here. He had work to do.

"You’re leaving," she said as she looked at him with disappointment in her gaze.

His nose flared. Was it because he was seeing her more recently? Or had their intimacy clouded his vision? He was sure she didn’t always have this sort of expression and why was he so easily affected?

"Why? You want me to stay."

He was trying to mock her. He didn’t know when whatever they had turned into this and he didn’t like how easily she blurted out her thoughts, but he couldn’t stop it for reasons unknown to him.

"Yes," she replied with bright eyes.

"Tch!"

What was this? Her eyes were too eager. Why was she asking him to stay when she jumped at the slightest movement from him? She might speak to him freely but her nervousness wasn’t gone.

She flinched when he was close and he knew she had good reasons for that. However, to also ask him to stay in the same breath screamed hypocrisy. She wouldn’t be able to handle half of it, regardless of her claims.

"I have work to do," he said and turned away from her.

Why did I explain?

He was taking it easy with her because she was injured. That was all. As soon as this was over, things would really be what they were, and she would regret offering herself.

He didn’t like how these thoughts sounded as though he was trying to convince himself. He turned the handle of the side door harder than he needed to as he walked in and shut the door hard behind him.

Maya watched him with a sad expression on her face. Things between them were still stiff—not that she expected things to change quickly—but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t hopeful.

The walk to her room had illusioned her and she had forgotten the circumstances. It didn’t help that she was in his room surrounded by things that belonged to him.

It was easy for her thoughts to get overly hopeful. She wished he stayed; she would be quiet. She knew she would be satisfied sitting in a corner, staring at him when she had the courage, while he ignored her.

She let out a loud sigh as her eyes swept the room. She would have to make do with what she could get.

---

A soft knock moved Maya to a sitting position. Spending the rest of the day alone in his room made her quite aware of how slowly time passed.

Having slept more than enough after breakfast, she couldn’t even use a nap to pass time and had spent the whole time just gazing while exercising extreme control to stop herself from checking Keenan’s room. She wasn’t looking for anything in particular; she was just curious.

She had also checked her arm more than she needed to and was convinced the pain was barely there—or perhaps she had fiddled with it so much that she was now numb.

Winnie poked her head in as she opened the door and smiled brightly at Maya. "Hi," she called as she slipped in and shut the door behind her.

"Winnie," she cried. She noticed the young woman was wearing a different dress from when she had come by in the morning. "Are you back from work?"

"Uh huh," Winnie replied and walked toward her. She sat on the edge of the bed and leaned forward to get a closer look at Maya.

"Is something wrong?"

"I should be asking you that," she replied as she leaned back.

"I am fine," she lied.

"Hmm, it must be boring and a little lonely to sit here all day."

Maya nodded too quickly, then she changed the subject. She didn’t want Winnie to worry about her. "How was work?"

"Dusty," she said with a sigh. "I swear I have clay dust at the back of my throat."

"Why?" Maya asked in horror.

She laughed. "It’s part of the job. We have to sift the clay so the pottery won’t come out lumpy. Usually, it’s easier to remove the stones and bits we don’t need when the clay is wet, but we had some dried clay stored, so we crushed it and sifted it instead."

"Sounds like a lot of work," Maya replied.

"Not really. The hard part isn’t here yet," she groaned slightly.

"What’s the difficult part?" She asked, unable to help her curiosity.

"Kneading the clay," she said. "It takes forever, and it’s heavy. You have to keep folding and pressing it, making sure there are no lumps or trapped air. By the end of the day, your shoulders feel like they’ll fall off."

Maya instinctively shook her wrist; she wouldn’t be much help, let alone in this state. "I see," she mumbled. "But why do you have to do all that before molding?"

"If we leave air trapped inside or don’t mix it properly, the pots can crack when they’re fired."

"Wow," Maya said, nodding her head. "I didn’t know."

"I know," she said with a small smile. "I’ll show you, it will be easier for you to understand then."

Maya’s eyes sparkled. "I’d love that."

Winnie nodded and glanced at her arm. "How’s your arm?"

"Better," she replied too quickly. "Master Richard was here to change the bandages."

"I noticed."

"I should be able to take them off by tomorrow."

"That must be a relief," Winnie replied.

"It is," she admitted. "I won’t have to trouble you again. I feel better, and we can go to dinner together. I should be able to eat dinner by myself."

"Wait, in the dining room?"

"Yes," Maya said cautiously, wondering if there was something wrong.

"Oh," Winnie said with a surprised expression. "It’s no trouble really," she added with a laugh. "I’d rather avoid Alaina for one more day, but I’m so glad you’re feeling that much better enough to use your hand."

Maya’s expression soured at the mention of Alaina, and she immediately wanted to change her mind. "I could eat here then—"

"What? Nonsense. I’ll pass the message to the kitchen and get back to you."

"What about Alaina? I don’t want you to run into any trouble with her."

"I can’t avoid her forever. Besides, if she really wanted to, she knows where to find me. Staying away won’t make any difference." Winnie was standing on her feet as she spoke.

"Are you sure?" Maya asked reluctantly. She didn’t need to eat in the dining room, but she could use another room. Staying cooped up alone in this one wasn’t very pleasant. It made her thoughts run wild.

Winnie shook her head as she stood on her feet. "You worry too much. If it were really a bother as you think, I’d just not eat in the dining room. Why must you worry so much?"

She chuckled at the end of her words and looked at Maya with a soft look in her eyes.

Maya reluctantly nodded, unable to counter Winnie any longer. "Okay," she mumbled.

"Good," she replied as she walked toward the door. "I’ll be back soon."

Maya nodded as she watched Winnie slip out the door, and she couldn’t help but think she must have used up all her luck this year to get her on her side. She couldn’t be happier. She made her hopeful.