“None of your concerns,” Kieran retorts.
“We have a right to know.”
Kieran sighs, his eyes hardening. “I went to her room to invite her to dinner. She wasn’t wearing her scent blockers. That is all.”
I nod, warmth flooding my cheeks at the memory. “I understand. I’m sorry about that. It won’t happen again.”
“Second, no one is to be alone with you. Not my brothers, not me. There will always be at least two people present when you’re in a room with one of us.”
Drake’s jaw tightens visibly, a muscle ticking in his cheek. He looks like he wants to say something, but he remains silent, his eyes fixed on his plate.
“Third, your focus is on Nora. Her care, her education, her well-being. Nothing else.”
“Of course,” I agree readily. “That’s why I’m here.”
“Is that all?” Rowan asks, his voice carrying a hint of challenge. “Or are there more arbitrary rules you’d like to impose?”
Kieran’s eyes narrow at his brother. “For now,” he says, the words clipped. “I reserve the right to add more as needed.”
The tension between them is palpable, like electricity crackling in the air. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, feeling caught between forces I don’t understand.
“These rules sound reasonable,” I say quickly, hoping to defuse the situation. “It’s my first time working overnight in a pack house, so I appreciate the clear boundaries.”
Kieran’s expression softens marginally, seemingly pleased with my acquiescence. “Good. I’m glad we agree.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Nora at the kitchen sink, dumping what’s left of her popsicle down the drain. She wipes her blue-stained hands on her shirt, then skips away, humming tunelessly to herself.
“What time does Nora need to be at school tomorrow?” I ask, changing the subject.
“The bus comes at nine,” Elias says, his hand still resting lightly on my elbow. “None of us will be home tomorrow, so we’re counting on you to make sure she gets on it.”
I nod, making a mental note. “Then she should probably be in bed soon. And she needs to eat some actual food before that.”
Kieran looks at me with what might be surprise, or possibly approval.
“You’re right,” he says after a moment. “We’ve been... lenient with her schedule lately.”
“I can handle it,” I assure him, feeling more confident in this area. Whatever complicated tension exists between me and these alphas, I know how to do my job. I know how to take care of children.
The rest of dinner passes in relative calm, with Elias asking me questions about my previous nanny positions and Rowan occasionally adding a comment or question of his own. Kieran watches me closely but says little, while Drake remains almost completely silent, speaking only when directly addressed.
After dinner, I find Nora in the family room, watching cartoons. It takes some persuasion, but with the promise of a story before bed, I manage to get her to eat a small bowl of pasta. She chatters happily as I read to her, curled up in her princess-themed bedroom that’s easily the size of my entire apartment. She falls asleep halfway through the second story, her breathing deep and even, her face peaceful in slumber.
I tiptoe out, closing her door softly behind me, feeling a small sense of accomplishment. One day down, many more to go.
Morning comes with the insistent beeping of my alarm at 8 AM. I blink awake, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar ceilingabove me and the luxurious feel of the sheets against my skin. It takes a few seconds to remember where I am—the mansion, my new job, my new life.
I slip out of bed and pad to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and washing my face before applying a fresh layer of scent blocker lotion. My morning routine completed, I dress quickly in simple jeans and a green sweater, then head to Nora’s room next door.
She’s a lump under her princess duvet, only a tuft of brown curly hair visible at the top.
“Nora,” I call softly, crossing the room to open her curtains. Morning light spills in, illuminating the pink and purple décor. “Time to get up for school.”
The lump groans and burrows deeper under the covers. “No school,” comes the muffled reply. “I’m sick.”
I sit on the edge of her bed, gently pulling back the duvet. “Oh no. What’s wrong?”
One brown eye peeks at me suspiciously. “My... stomach hurts.”
