The training grounds buzzed with the sharp clashing of fists and the low growls of wolves sparring. Warriors laughed and jeered, the air thick with testosterone and competition. Among them, Abigail kept her head low as she hauled a bucket of water from the well near the edge of the grounds. Every step sent a sharp sting through her ribs where bruises darkened her pale skin beneath her tunic, but she gritted her teeth, refusing to limp.
She would not give them the satisfaction.
From the raised platform overlooking the grounds, Alpha Steve stood with his arms folded, his cold gaze sweeping over his warriors. His presence alone demanded obedience, his aura a heavy weight on everyone present. He looked untouchable stone-faced, unmoved by the noise and chaos below.
But his eyes betrayed him.
Because when they flickered toward Abigail, he noticed. The stiffness in her movements, the faint wince she tried to hide when she bent to drop the bucket. The way her breath caught when someone brushed past her too roughly. He saw it all.
Adrian came up beside him, his younger brother's jaw tight as he too noticed the state of the bruised omega below.
"She shouldn't even be on her feet," Adrian muttered under his breath. "Who did this to her?"
Steve didn't answer immediately. His wolf bristled, clawing against his control, demanding that he storm down there and tear apart whoever dared lay a hand on her. But Steve's face remained impassive, his fists curling at his sides until his knuckles turned white.
"She's an omega," he finally said flatly, though the words tasted like ash on his tongue. "They treat her as they see fit."
Adrian turned sharply to him, eyes flashing. "You don't believe that. Don't lie to me, Steve. You care."
Steve's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he forced himself to look away from Abigail. "Care makes you weak."
Down below, a careless warrior deliberately bumped into Abigail, sending water sloshing over her arm. She gasped quietly, biting her lip against the sting where the fresh bruise flared with pain. The warrior sneered, muttering something about "clumsy omegas."
Steve's wolf roared inside him, his vision blurring at the edges. He had to curl his hands into fists so tightly that his claws broke skin, blood dripping into his palms. Yet he stood frozen, expression unreadable, his heart tearing with every second he forced himself to remain silent.
Abigail glanced up once, just once, her eyes brushing his from across the grounds. For a heartbeat, Steve forgot to breathe. Her gaze was defiant not weak, not broken, but burning with a quiet strength that made his wolf howl with pride. And it broke him even more, because he had no right to feel it.
Adrian caught the exchange, his mouth pressing into a thin line. "You can pretend all you want, brother," he said in a low, dangerous tone, "but your wolf doesn't lie. Sooner or later, you won't be able to keep watching in silence."
Steve said nothing. His only reply was to turn sharply and leave the platform, his footsteps echoing with restrained fury. But even as he walked away, he could still feel her eyes on him, tugging at the bond he fought so hard to deny.
And Abigail, standing bruised and weary in the training grounds, let out a shaky breath. She didn't know why, but a part of her whispered that despite his coldness, he had seen her.
He always saw her.