Chapter 53: A Noble’s Daughter and a Wolfless Girl
{IRIS}
But soon, her requests began to grow.
At first:
"Iris, could you fetch my parcel from the lobby? Thank you!"
"Iris, can you grab me a sandwich? I’m simply starving."
Then:
"Carry these for me, would you? They’re heavy."
"Run ahead and claim us a spot in the café!"
"Oh—and grab this, and that, and perhaps this trunk too—yes, that one."
Her voice was always bright, always lilting with charm—yet her commands were unmistakable.
Caroline did not ask.
She commanded.
But... I was stronger than she was, physically. And she always bought food for both of us when she sent me to fetch hers. A kindness. A small one, but a kindness nonetheless.
So I told myself it was fine.
That she was simply lively, and confident, and used to comfort.
Then, one evening, as she twirled in a new silk dress, she laughed and said, "Well, of course I behave this way. I am a noble daughter—did you not know? My family is one of the highest-ranking in human territory."
And suddenly everything made sense.
Her regal bearing.
Her careless grace.
Her assumption that people—staff, students, strangers—would simply orbit around her whims.
She was born to luxury.
To rooms filled with servants.
To hands that carried things for her, and voices that answered "yes, my lady."
But here... at the Covens of Midnight... she could bring none of her attendants unless they could use the arcane.
So she looked to me.
The wolfless girl with quick hands and quiet obedience. I reminded myself that she was not cruel—merely accustomed to a world where comfort followed her like a loyal pet.
And truly... I did not mind helping her.
Still...
Every time I swept her glittering dust from the floor or carried her heavy shopping bags down the academy path, a faint ache pressed against my ribs—soft, but unmistakable.
Because no matter how friendly she was...
There were moments—brief, fleeting—when her gaze slid over me as though I were not her roommate...
...but her attendant.
And in the dark gothic hush of night, as I folded her scattered garments in the moonlight, the old ache stirred in me again—the quiet, terrible fear of being used, unnoticed, or forgotten.
A fear I had carried from the pack...
and thought I had buried.
But it rose again, softly, like a shadow stretching across the floor.
"We shall be going to the human territories tomorrow—would you like to come?" Caroline asked one evening, twirling her golden hair with careless grace. "We leave at dawn and return before six. One last breath of freedom before school officially begins."
I hesitated.
I had never once stepped foot into the human territories. Not because I disliked humans—but because I had never been given any reason to go.
The pack had kept me close, confined, and invisible. Humans might as well have lived on another moon.
I shook my head softly. "No. I want to read tomorrow."
It had been days since I last sat beneath the great tree...
Days since I last saw Zephyros.
Caroline shrugged, unfazed. "Suit yourself," she chirped, already absorbed in whatever glittered across her phone screen.
====
{IRIS}
Morning came swiftly.
When I awoke, Caroline was long gone.
The room felt strangely peaceful without her bright voice filling every corner. Not unpleasant—just quiet. A quiet I welcomed.
After a quick wash, I hurried to the library, borrowed a book, and crossed the campus toward the lake. More students wandered the grounds than before—laughing, chatting, bustling with the restless energy of a school about to begin.
But I slipped past them all, drawn back to my usual sanctuary beneath the towering canopy tree.
A small breeze rustled the pages as I settled against the trunk.
And then—
The air shimmered faintly. Shadows rippled.
Zephyros appeared.
He materialized with his usual lethargic grace—half-floating, half-slouching in the air. But the words that left his lips were anything but gentle.
"I hardly ever see you alone anymore. Where’s that golden-haired bitch?"
I sighed deeply.
Even with his calm, half-asleep face, his voice dripped venom—clear and sharp. He detested humans. He had said so without apology.
"Caroline went to the human territories with her friends," I said quietly.
He sneered. The expression looked wrong on someone so beautiful.
"She should stay there. I would prefer she never return."
I opened my book. "She can control snow and ice... it’s very beautiful," I murmured, recalling the delicate frostflakes she conjured in the air one night, glittering like little frozen stars.
Zephyros puffed out his cheeks in a childish pout.
"I can fly. I can walk through walls. I can move anything with a thought. I can weave illusions. I can make my body solid. I am far more impressive than some frost-shaking noble."
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "You’re amazing too."
He narrowed his eyes. "That sounded painfully forced."
"Of course not. Everyone here is amazing . . . ," I said, returning to my book. "I wonder if I really fit in here . . ."
"Anyway," he grumbled, crossing his arms as his body drifted a little higher, "that human is bad news. She orders you around like you’re some personal attendant. I don’t like it. You need to tell her you are not her servant."
"It’s fine. I don’t mind," I murmured.
"What are you saying?" His voice sharpened. "You’re a werewolf, are you not? Aren’t wolves supposed to be proud creatures? Where is your pride?"
"I... like doing chores," I admitted sheepishly.
"That is not the point." He floated closer, glaring. "You are not her servant."
"I can manage. Caroline told me she grew up surrounded by attendants. She’s never been alone before. It must be difficult for her."
"Huh? And that is somehow your burden?" His expression twisted in disbelief. "You’re too kind for your own good. People will take advantage of you."
A small smile tugged at my lips.
His concern wrapped around me like a small, fragile warmth. I was still wary—how could I not be when he almost scared me to death in our first meeting?
Yet he remained the only one who looked at me with such earnest care. And that... felt painfully genuine.
