The Alpha's Exiled Mate Chapter 41

Freya's POV

Thorne stood at the entrance to the hall, his tall frame silhouetted against the early morning light. He was dressed for the day in a tailored suit, his silver-framed glasses perched on his nose. But it was his expression that made my breath catch—cold fury, his eyes fixed on Thomas's hand still supporting my elbow.

"Thomas," Thorne's voice was deceptively calm, but I could hear the dangerous undertone. "I believe the rose bushes on the east terrace needed attention."

Thomas immediately released me, taking a step back. "Yes, Alpha. I was just heading there."

"Now," Thorne said, the single word carrying the weight of an Alpha command.

Thomas nodded, casting me an apologetic glance before hurrying away. I swayed slightly without his support but managed to remain standing, lifting my chin as Thorne approached.

His gaze swept over me, taking in my disheveled appearance, the chemical burns on my hands, the dark circles I knew must be visible under my eyes.

"You missed a spot," he said finally, nodding toward a corner of the hall.

I followed his gaze, seeing a small section near the door that I hadn't reached yet. "I was just about to finish it, Alpha," I said, my voice hoarse from hours of silence.

"See that you do," he replied, then added, "After you've changed, you'll serve my breakfast in the dining room. Be there in twenty minutes."

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing on the marble floor I had spent all night cleaning.

I stared after him, a mixture of exhaustion and defiance warring within me. But I had no choice. I picked up my brush, ignoring the pain in my hands, and moved to clean the final section of floor.

Twenty minutes. Just enough time to finish cleaning, change into a fresh uniform, and make it to the dining room. Not enough time to rest, to tend to my burning hands, or to prepare for another confrontation with the wolf who held my fate in his hands.

My wolf growled within me, tired of submission. But I silenced her, reminding her of our purpose here. This humiliation was temporary. A means to an end.

Whatever game Thorne was playing, I would endure it. I had survived the Wilds. I had survived Silver Shackle. I would survive Grey Estate too.

Even if it meant scrubbing floors all night and serving breakfast to the wolf who had condemned me.

---

The dining room of Grey Estate was as impressive as I remembered—a long mahogany table that could seat twenty, illuminated by a crystal chandelier, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the meticulously maintained gardens. In my previous life, I had dined here as a guest. Now I stood by the wall, a serving tray clutched in my trembling hands.

Edith had been waiting for me when I arrived, her eyes critically assessing my appearance.

"Your uniform is filthy," she'd sniffed, though she knew perfectly well why. "And your hair is a disgrace."

I'd had no time to shower, barely enough to splash water on my face and change into the spare uniform she'd reluctantly provided. My hair was hastily pulled back, still damp at the edges.

"Alpha Thorne expects his breakfast to be served by you personally," she'd informed me, her tone making it clear how inappropriate she found this arrangement. "This is normally my duty, but he was quite specific."

Her eyes had narrowed slightly. "Do not disappoint him."

Now I stood at attention as Thorne entered the dining room, his movements fluid and graceful despite his imposing height. He took his seat at the head of the table, not acknowledging my presence as he unfolded his napkin and placed it in his lap.

"Coffee first," he said without looking up, opening a leather portfolio that presumably contained documents requiring his attention.

I moved forward, lifting the heavy ceramic coffee pot from the sideboard. My arms ached from the night's labor, and my hands, raw and blistered from the cleaning chemicals, protested at the weight. I focused on keeping the pot steady as I approached him.

"Black, no sugar," he added, still not looking at me.

I carefully began to pour, but a sharp pain lanced through my wrist as the muscles spasmed from overuse. The pot jerked in my hand, sending a splash of hot coffee onto the pristine white tablecloth—and onto the sleeve of Thorne's clearly expensive shirt.

He jerked back with a sharp hiss, golden eyes flashing up to meet mine. For a moment, pure panic flooded me.

"I—I'm sorry," I stammered, setting down the pot and grabbing a napkin to blot the stain. "Let me—"

"Don't touch me," he growled, the Alpha timbre in his voice making my knees weak.

I froze, napkin still outstretched, as he assessed the damage. The coffee had left a dark stain on his light blue shirt, the fabric already beginning to cling to his skin.

"I didn't mean to—"

"Silence."

His gaze lifted to my face, and I saw the moment his anger shifted into something else. His eyes narrowed as they took in the dark shadows beneath my eyes, the pallor of my skin, the slight sway in my stance as exhaustion threatened to overcome me.

"You're practically dead on your feet," he observed, his voice colder now. "How long did it take you to clean the hall?"

"All night, Alpha," I answered truthfully, seeing no point in lying.

Something flickered across his face—surprise, perhaps, or disbelief. Then his expression hardened again.

"And now you can't even pour coffee without making a mess," he said, pushing back from the table. The motion sent a fresh wave of his scent toward me—mint and metal and the unmistakable musk of an Alpha male, now tinged with irritation.

I lowered my eyes, humiliation burning in my chest. "I apologize, Alpha."

He stood, his height intimidating as he looked down at me. "If you can't manage a simple task like serving breakfast, perhaps you shouldn't be doing it at all."

For a wild moment, I thought he might be offering mercy—a different assignment, perhaps, or even just permission to rest. But his next words crushed that hope.

"Do not waste my time with incompetence," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous register that made my wolf whimper. "If you can't do something properly, don't do it at all. Get out of my sight. Go back to your room."