Chapter 172: The Hidden Green House
Mara’s sharp gaze shifted to Sera briefly, then back to Lilith. "Sera is reliable. You can trust her guidance." She paused, and something in her expression shifted into something more personal. "I wanted to tell you something, warrior to warrior."
Lilith blinked. "I’m not a warrior."
"Not yet," Mara said, and there was something almost knowing in her eyes. "But the Alphas don’t bond with weak women. There’s a strength in you that got you through three months at Shadowmere on your own after you got demeoted, that got you here despite every reason to be afraid." She nodded once, a gesture of respect. "Don’t lose that. Whatever happens with them, whatever the bond demands....don’t let it consume who you are."
Then she was turning and moving away, disappearing back toward the main estate.
Sera let out a low whistle. "Well, that was intense. Mara doesn’t usually say much to anyone. She must respect you."
"I don’t even know what she meant," Lilith admitted.
"I think she meant that you should keep being yourself," Sera said simply. "A lot of mates get swallowed up by their alphas, become just extensions of them instead of actual people. Mara’s saying don’t do that."
They continued their walk through the gardens, Sera pointing out her favorite spots, a small fountain hidden behind a trellis of climbing roses, a bench where you could see the entire estate if you sat just right, a section of lavender so fragrant it made you dizzy if you breathed too deeply. They talked about nothing important and everything that mattered, Sera’s life at Blackwood pack and her dreams of becoming a warrior trainer someday.
It was as they were circling back toward the main house that they found something neither of them expected.
Set back from the main pathways, almost hidden by a cluster of mature rose bushes, was a small stone building. It looked ancient, weathered by time, its purpose unclear. Sera gasped with delight.
"I’ve never seen this before," she said, immediately pushing through the rose bushes toward it.
"Careful," Lilith warned, following more slowly, mindful of the thorns. "You’ll tear your dress."
But Sera was already at the stone structure, running her hands along its walls. Up close, Lilith could see it was a small greenhouse or garden house, its windows clouded with age and dust, its door locked but not locked so securely that it couldn’t be opened.
Sera pushed, and the door swung inward with a creak of old hinges.
Inside was another world.
The interior was overgrown with plants, some cultivated, some wild, all of them thriving in the humid environment. Vines climbed the glass walls, filtering the sunlight into a soft, green glow. There were benches where someone had clearly worked before, arranged in the center of the space. Shelves held clay pots, gardening tools, bottles of mysterious liquids. But what caught Lilith’s breath was the smell.
Herbs. The space smelled like every herb she’d ever known...lavender and rosemary and something floral she couldn’t quite name. It was intoxicating, peaceful, almost magical in its abundance.
"This is incredible," Sera whispered, stepping further into the space. "Someone’s been maintaining this. Look at the plants, they’re all alive, all healthy."
Lilith moved to one of the benches and found a journal sitting there, its pages filled with careful notes about planting schedules, care instructions, harvest times. The handwriting was neat but personal, belonging to someone who spent time here regularly.
"We have to tell someone about this," Sera said, but her voice suggested she hoped they wouldn’t have to, that this secret could remain theirs.
"Maybe it’s meant to be private," Lilith said softly. "Whoever tends it clearly values the peace of it."
They stood in the greenhouse for a long time, not speaking, just breathing in the green air, absorbing the tranquility of the space. Lilith found herself touching the leaves of different plants, learning their textures, their scents. Here, surrounded by growing things that asked nothing of her, that simply existed in their own quiet beauty, she felt something in her chest unclench.
This was what she’d needed. Not grand gestures or words of reassurance, but simple beauty. Simple peace. The knowledge that there were spaces in this estate where nothing was demanded of her except that she breathe and exist.
"Thank you," she said to Sera as they finally stepped back out into the afternoon sunlight, pulling the greenhouse door closed behind them.
"For what?" Sera asked, genuinely confused.
"For showing me the gardens. For being my friend. For making this place feel less like a cage."
Sera’s expression softened into something deeply affectionate. She reached over and squeezed Lilith’s hand briefly. "You deserve to be happy here," she said simply. "I hope you will be."
They made their way back toward the main house as the afternoon began to shift toward evening, their conversation shifting to lighter topics, the food at estate, the rumors about whether the Alphas would participate in the upcoming warrior tournament, Sera thought Nicholas would, but Lucian probably wouldn’t because he’d destroy everyone).
It was only as they were ascending the stone steps back toward the terrace that Lilith noticed the figures in one of the upper windows, watching the gardens below. She caught sight of them only for a moment before they retreated from view, but she recognized them immediately: Nicholas and Sebastian, side by side, their attention fixed on her.
She didn’t know how long they’d been watching. But there was something in their presence, in the fact that they’d chosen to observe rather than interrupt, that suggested they were giving her space while making sure she remained safe.
It should have felt like an invasion of privacy. Instead, it felt almost protective.
As Sera went off toward the warrior quarters to change out of her work clothes, Lilith climbed the stairs alone, acutely aware that somewhere in the estate above, three pairs of eyes were tracking her movement, assessing her comfort level, watching to see how she was adjusting to her new reality.
She reached her room and found another small gesture waiting for her: fresh water in the pitcher, new flowers arranged in the vase, a small package of tea leaves wrapped in brown paper with a handwritten note that simply said: For your evening. Helps with rest. — A
Lilith sat at her window as the afternoon faded toward evening, watching the gardens transform in the golden light, feeling the weight of the past four months beginning to shift. Not disappearing, not forgiven, but beginning to transform into something she might someday be able to carry without it breaking her.
The estate was beginning to feel less like a place of captivity and more like something she might actually call home.
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