The first thing Faith felt was the sheets. They weren't the scratchy, thin cotton of her basement cot. These were cool, heavy, and felt like liquid butter against her skin.

She opened her eyes slowly. The ceiling was vaulted, painted with intricate gold leaf that shimmered in the morning sun. For a moment, she thought she was dead. Is this heaven? Do Duds go to heaven?

Then, the ache in her side reminded her she was very much alive.

she felt a sudden sharp pain as she tried to sit up .Her wrists were bandaged, the zip-tie burns treated with a cooling salve that smelled of mint.

"I wouldn't move if I were you," a voice muttered from the shadows of the room. You broke two ribs and dented a half-million-dollar car with your head. Most humans would be in a coma by now.

Faith looked towards the window.

He was standing there, silhouetted against the light. Alpha Killian. He had traded his suit jacket for a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing his forearms corded with muscle and etched with dark, swirling tattoos.

Faith's heart did that strange, violent skip again. The "Mate" pull was a dull roar in her blood, even if she had no wolf to acknowledge it.

"Where am I?" she whispered, her voice cracking.

"In my house," Killian said, stepping into the light. His grey eyes were like flint. Which makes  you my property until you explain why you were falling from the sky onto my Rolls-Royce.

Faith swallowed hard. She looked at the door-heavy oak, probably locked. Then back at the man who radiated enough power to crush her with a thought.

"I was....escaping," she said, choosing her words carefully. "Some men. They were taking me to a labor camp in the North."

Killian's eyes narrowed. He walked toward the bed, his movements fluid and predatory. He stopped just inches away, leaning down until his face was level with hers. Faith didn't flinch. She stared right back into those icy depths.

Most people-even Alphas-looked away when Killian stared. But this girl, this broken, wolfless thing, looked at him like he was just another problem to solve.

"You have no wolf, You're a Dud. Why would traffickers go through the trouble of drugging a Dud? You aren't worth the gas it took to drive the van."

The words stung, but Faith didn't let it show.

 "Maybe they liked my face. Or maybe they knew I was smarter than the people they usually kidnap."

Killian let out a short, dry bark of a laugh. "Arrogant, too. I like that."

He reached out, his thumb grazing the bandage on her wrist. The touch sent a bolt of heat through Faith's arm, making her breath hitch. Killian's eyes flashed gold for a split second. He felt it too. The pull. The impossibility of it.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Faith."

Well, Faith. You've caused a lot of trouble. My car is in the shop, my guards are terrified because I almost executed them for letting a human onto the grounds, and you.... you smell like something I can't quite place."

He straightened up, his expression returning to a mask of cold indifference.

"Obviously, you have no money to pay for the repairs, and you're clearly running from someone, I've decided your fate. You'll work it off."

Faith gripped the silk sheets. "As a maid?"

"As my maid," Killian corrected. "You will be my Personal Shadow. You eat when I eat. You move when I move. You clean my private study-and only my study. No one else touches you, and you touch no one else".

but... why would you care if I touch anyone or if anyone touches me? Faith muttered. 

It's not about you Faith...Rule number one, "Do not question my authority.Understood?"

Faith's mind raced. It was a golden cage, but it was a cage with a library and a roof that didn't leak. If she could stay here, she could find a way to finish her scholarship application. She could disappear once she had her degree.

"Understood,"she said firmly.

A week passed.

Life in the Nightshade Mansion was a bizarre mix of luxury and labor. Faith was given a uniform-a simple, elegant black dress that fit her perfectly. She spent her mornings dusting Killian's massive library.

One afternoon, while Killian was on a frantic conference call regarding a failing tech merger, Faith was polishing the mahogany desk. She glanced at his computer screen. The code was a mess. The architecture of the software was outdated, causing the lag that was making him lose millions.

Without thinking, she leaned over. Her fingers hovered over the keys.

"What are you doing?" Killian snapped . He had ended the call.

Faith jumped, dropping her polishing cloth. "The.... the logic gates. They're looping. That's why your server is crashing."

Killian walked over, his brow furrowed. "You can read C++?"

"I can read most things," Faith said, her cheeks flushing.

Killian stared at the screen, then at the girl who was supposed to be a "low-life orphan." He stepped aside. "Fix it."

Faith sat in his leather chair. It was warm from his body, and the scent of him-rain and sandalwood-wrapped around her like a blanket. Her fingers flew. For ten minutes, the only sound was the clicking of the keyboard.

When she finished, the server light on the corner of the desk turned a steady, calm green.

Killian looked at the data. He looked at her. A strange, dark intensity grew in his eyes. He didn't say 'thank you.' Instead, he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up.

"How did you get  those brains, Faith? Orphans in the trenches don't learn system architecture."

"I taught myself," she whispered.

His thumb traced her lower lip. The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on. Killian was fighting himself-his wolf wanted to claim her right there on the desk, but his mind and ego couldn't accept that a wolfless girl was his match.

Suddenly, the heavy doors of the study burst open.

A woman walked in, dripping in diamonds and smelling of aggressive, cloying perfume. It was Lady Elena, the daughter of a neighboring Alpha and the woman everyone expected Killian to marry.

She stopped dead, her eyes landing on Faith sitting in Killian's chair.

"Killian, darling," Elena hissed, her eyes glowing a jealous red. "Why is this.... creature sitting at your desk? And why does she smell like you?"

Killian didn't pull his hand away from Faith. If anything, he held her tighter.

"She's my maid, Elena. And she's currently more useful than your entire pack."

Elena's face deformed with rage. She looked at Faith-really looked at her-and a flicker of recognition crossed her face. "Wait. I know that face. You're the little Dud that Maya was bragging about throwing away."

Faith felt the blood drain from her face.

"Oh, this is interesting ," Elena smirked, stepping closer. "Killian, you're keeping a piece of trash. And trash...are meant to be disposed of."

Elena lunged, her hand shifting into a clawed paw, aiming straight for Faith's throat.

Faith didn't even have time to scream. But she didn't feel the claws.

Killian had moved faster than the eye could see. He caught Elena's wrist in mid-air, the sound of bones grinding together filling the room. He didn't even look at Elena: his eyes remained locked on Faith.

"I said," Killian whispered, his voice a terrifying, low growl that shook the windows. "No one touches her."

As Killian throws Elena out of the room, Faith feels a strange sensation she's never felt before. Deep inside her, something that has been sleeping for twenty years just opened its eyes.

The heavy oak doors of the study clicked shut beind Elena who was seriously fuming. The room suddenly felt five degrees colder, filled only with the scent of Killian's lingering rage and the hum of the computer server Faith had just saved.

Faith tried to stand, her legs still trembling. "Thank you for..."

"Don't thank me Faith", Killian cut her off, his voice sharp as a razor. He didn't look at her; he was staring at the glowing green light on his monitor-the logic gate she had just fixed. "I didn't do it for you. I did it because I don't tolerate trash in my workspace, and I certainly don't tolerate people touching what belongs to me."

Faith's jaw tightened. "I'm not a 'what,' Killian.and I'm a human being with blood not a property".

He finally turned, his grey eyes swirling with an unreadable storm. "In this house, you are a debt-holder. That makes your safety my responsibility, and your time my asset. The fact that you actually understand system architecture is....intriguing, but it doesn't change your status."

He walked toward his desk,. "Since you're so eager to be useful, take these files to the archive room in the West Wing. And don't get lost. I don't have time to send a search party for a maid."

He shoved a heavy leather folder into her arms. His tone was bossy, cold, and dismissive.

Faith took the files, her chest tight with a mix of gratitude and annoyance. "Fine. I'll be out of your hair."

She turned and hurried toward the door, her mind spinning. She was halfway across the polished marble threshold when her foot caught on the edge of the heavy Persian rug. With her hands full of files, she couldn't break her fall.

"Ah-!"

Before she could hit the floor, a blur of motion crossed the room.

A pair of strong, iron-clad arms wrapped around her waist, yanking her back against a hard chest. The files scattered, papers flying around like white birds, but Faith didn't care. She was pressed firmly against Killian.

The contact was electric.

Through the thin fabric of her uniform, she could feel the heat radiating from his body. The "Mate" pull-that strange, magnetic tug in her soul-erupted into a roar. Killian didn't let go. His large hands spanned her waist, his fingers digging slightly into her skin as if he were trying to stabilize himself.

Faith looked up,she gasped . Killian was staring down at her, his face inches from hers. For the first time, the cold Alpha demeanor was  gone. His pupils were blown wide, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled her scent-the scent of honey and wild rain that was driving his wolf mad.

He looked at her eyes, then her lips, his throat working as he gulped hard. For a heartbeat, the billionaire Alpha looked completely lost.

"Faith...." he whispered, his voice no longer cold, but rough and strained.

Faith's heart hammered against her ribs. "I....I thought you said you didn't care about me," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. "That I was just an asset."

Killian's grip tightened for a second before he realized what he was doing. He cleared his throat abruptly, his face flushing a rare shade of red. He let her go so quickly she almost stumbled again.

"I....I meant," he stuttered, stepping back and smoothing his perfectly straight tie. "I meant that if you break your neck, I have to fill out the insurance paperwork. It's... it's a logistical nightmare."

He wouldn't look at her. He began picking up the scattered papers with jerky movements-completely different from his usual cool self.

"Just.... go, Faith. Before you break something else."

Faith stood there, her skin still tingling where he had touched her. She saw the way his hands shook slightly as he stacked the files. He wasn't indifferent. Not even close. a small knowing smirk played around her lips as she walked away.

Faith barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she replayed how Killian's arms felt around her. It wasn't just physical it was the way he looked at her, as if he were seeing a person instead of a piece of property.

 By 6:00 AM the next day, she was already dressed and heading to his study to clean. It was her routine, but today, she had a goal. She knew Killian had a breakfast meeting at the Pack Council. He would be gone for atleast three hours.

 The study was empty. The morning sun came through the windows and lit up the dust. Faith looked at the massive computer on his desk.

 She thought about the Silver Moon Scholarship. Back in the trenches, it had been her only dream. She had to know if the results were out. She had to know if her "Phoenix" project had even been noticed before her aunt drugged her.

 She sat in his chair, the leather still smelled like him, and woke the monitor. Her fingers flew across the keys, bypassing the basic guest login. She pulled up the competition portal.

 Status: Finalist Selection in Progress.

 She began typing, her heart racing. If she could just upload the final data set she had stored on a cloud drive, she might still have a chance. She was so absorbed in the code that she didn't hear the silent click of the door.

 "The archives are in the West Wing, Faith. My computer is not."

 Faith jumped up from the chair, her heart nearly

 Popped out of her throat. Killian was leaning against the doorframe. He wasn't at the Council. He was watching her.

 He walked over, his eyes scanning the screen. "The Silver Moon Scholarship? You're the one who submitted the 'Urban Phoenix' model?"

 Faith lowered her head, bracing for a lecture. "Yes."

 "The judges were talking about this at the gala last night," Killian said, his voice calm. "They said it was the work of a genius, but the applicant disappeared. They assumed it was a scam".

 He looked at her, Tell me "Why didn't you finish the final interview?"

 Faith felt the old sting of betrayal. "My aunt. She found my notes. She knew if I won, I'd be under the Council's protection and she couldn't use me as a servant anymore. So she destroyed my laptop and drugged my tea and sold me to the traffickers the night before the finals."

 The air in the room shifted. A low, vibrating growl started in Killian's chest-a sound of pure, protective fury.

 "She sold you," he repeated, his voice dangerously calm. "Because you were too brilliant to be kept in a cage."

 He reached over her shoulder, his hand clicking a few keys. He didn't close the tab. Instead, he opened a new window and typed in a high-level command.

 "What are you doing?" Faith asked.

 "Running a background check that goes deeper than school records," Killian muttered. I want to see exactly who gave the order to put you in that van.

 As the progress bar loaded, Killian looked down at her. "If you really want to finish this competition, you'll need more than a scholarship. You'll need a name that people are afraid to touch."

 The computer beeped. A file popped up: Confidential Transfer - 50,000 Credits. Killian's eyes darkened as he read the sender's name. "It wasn't just your aunt, Faith. This payment came from a hidden account linked to the Crescent Pack."

 Faith gasped. "Silas? But I don't even know him!"

 "Well, he knows you" Killian hissed, his grip tightening on the back of her chair. "And he's been planning this for a long time."He wants you removed from the board. Why? Faith asked. "Because he knew what your Phoenix project would do to his Monopoly on the energy sector".

 "He wants to break you before you realize how much power you have". 

 Killian's eyes still locked on the screen as he continued typing again."If Silas wants war over a 'Dud' I'll give him one. But first, you need to get ready because, You're going to that Academy and you will go as a Nightshade."