[Third Person].
A thick, suffocating silence fell in the room. Meredith turned away at last and sank onto the couch, rubbing her temples. A dull headache had settled behind her eyes.
Draven watched her for a moment, then let out a heavy sigh—relieved that her emotions were no longer spiralling.
Then, he turned back to Xamira with a steady but unyielding gaze. "How long," he asked evenly, "did you plan to keep all of this a secret?"
Xamira’s shoulders slumped. "As long as possible. I didn’t think you would accept me if you ever learnt what I was."
Meredith let out a cold breath and turned sharply toward her. "Then tell us this," she said. "Now that you’ve been exposed, how did your first nanny die?"
The room went still. Xamira’s fingers tightened in the sheets as seconds stretched. Then her composure finally broke.
"She... died because of me," Xamira whispered.
Draven’s eyes darkened.
"I was very close to her," Xamira continued, voice shaking. "We used to play together. On that day, we made paper birds. One of them flew to the balcony."
Her breathing hitched, then she continued. "She went to retrieve it. I thought it would be funny to scare her, so I transformed into a bird." Her voice cracked. "I didn’t know she saw me change. She panicked and repeatedly stepped back without stopping. And then, she fell."
Tears spilt down her cheeks. "I didn’t mean it. If I knew she would die, I swear, I wouldn’t have done it."
Meredith felt something cold settle in her chest. This whole thing wasn’t just deception. This was danger.
A being capable of erasing traces, of slipping between shapes, of turning accidents into silence.
Meredith didn’t want to look at her anymore. The child she had seen, spoken to, and drawn with had never existed.
Through the mate bond, Meredith spoke quietly to Draven. "We should let her go." But fear followed immediately. "What if she comes back here as another child. Another servant. Or worse, goes out there and parades as one of us?"
"I understand," Draven replied.
Then, he turned back to Xamira, who was still crying. "Before the woman found you," he asked, "where did you live?"
Xamira shook her head weakly. "I don’t remember. I was badly injured when she found me. She took me in. That’s all I know."
Meredith didn’t believe her fully, but when she searched her thoughts, there was no deception, only guilt, regret and fear.
There were absolutely no plans or schemes.
Meredith withdrew from her mind, refusing to soften even a bit.
Draven spoke to Xamira again. "Who else knows what you are?"
"No one," Xamira said quickly, shaking her head. "No one else."
Draven nodded once. Then, through the mate bond, he spoke to Meredith, his tone steady, resolute.
"The safest solution is to end this here. Take her life."
Meredith nodded in acceptance. She felt nothing at the thought, only exhaustion.
She turned slightly, ready to leave the room, ready to stop caring what happened next. And that was when Xamira finally moved.
She slid off the bed and fell to her knees before them, bowing low until her forehead touched the floor.
"Please," she begged. "Alpha."
She didn’t call him Daddy as she usually addressed him. She didn’t dare.
Then she turned toward Meredith, her voice breaking. "My lady... please."



Meredith straightened slowly, her mind already moving ahead—too fast, too sharp. A shapeshifter. Perfect infiltration. No suspicion. No trace.
’She will be a powerful weapon,’ She realized.
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