Amelia or Trevor
Amelia's POV
The silence was broken by the clinking of spoons on plates, the soft sound of conversation, as I and Gerald shared a meal, and the warmth of his company a comfort to my soul.
"Have you seen Amelia today?" Gerald asked.
"No, My Alpha." The servant answered.
His response sent a ripple of unease through your heart, a silent, unspoken fear that made your pulse quicken.
"That's unlike her. Go get her for me," Gerald said, his voice a command, an order, as he turned his gaze to the servant.
My heart thudded in my chest, a primal fear gripping my soul, as the servant turned to leave, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the room.
And then, as if moved by some invisible force, I gasped, my hand flying to my throat, as I choked on my food, the act of feigned distress a desperate attempt to delay the inevitable, to prevent the servant from discovering my absence.
