Claimed By The Four Alpha Demons

5. Your Little Secret

Callie’s POV

By the time I finished the Library and the Great Hall, my arms felt like they were made of lead and my brain felt like it had been stuffed with cotton.

Britta hadn’t been joking about the scale of this place. Grimstone Hall wasn’t just a home. It was a beast that demanded constant attention, and the dust here didn’t just settle. It seemed to cling, heavy and magnetic, as if the house itself was trying to keep every particle of history exactly where it was.

I wiped the last smudge from a massive, gilt-framed mirror and checked my watch. Two o’clock. My stomach gave a loud, treacherous growl that echoed in the empty corridor.

“Okay,” I muttered to my reflection, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Water. Snack. Escape to Harper’s.”

I made my way toward the kitchens, navigating the labyrinth of hallways by memory. The house was quiet again, that heavy, oppressive silence that felt less like peace and more like a held breath. The static I’d felt earlier in the library had dulled to a low thrum, buzzing at the base of my skull like a headache that wouldn’t quite form.

I pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen, expecting to find Britta or perhaps the temperamental chef she’d warned me about.

Instead, I walked straight into a wall of testosterone.

The kitchen was massive, a gleaming expanse of stainless steel, black marble, and industrial-grade appliances that looked like they could launch a shuttle. But the room felt small. Tiny. Suffocating.

Because they were there.

All four of them.

I froze in the doorway, my hand still resting on the brass push-plate.

Ace was leaning against the center island, an apple tossed casually in one hand. He was still wearing the leather pants and silk shirt from earlier, looking like a rock star on a break.

Next to him sat a man who could only be Raiden. He was huge, broader than Ace, with shoulders that strained the fabric of his black t-shirt. His arms were covered in intricate tattoos that seemed to absorb the light, and his hair was shaved close on the sides, long on top. He was eating a steak. Rare. Very rare.

Leaning against the far counter, tapping away on a tablet, was the third brother. He was leaner, wearing thick-rimmed glasses and a hoodie that looked deceptively expensive. He didn’t look up when I entered, but his fingers stopped moving. That had to be Nate.

And then there was the man at the head of the island.

Greyson.

He was wearing a suit, charcoal gray, tailored to within an inch of its life. He wasn’t eating. He wasn’t on a phone. He was simply standing there, nursing a tumbler of amber liquid, radiating an aura of cold, absolute authority. If Ace was the fire, Greyson was the ice that kept the world from burning.

“I…I’m sorry,” I stammered, taking a half-step back. “I didn’t know anyone was in here. I was just looking for water.”

“Water is free,” Ace said, a slow grin spreading across his face. He took a bite of the apple, the crunch sounding like a gunshot in the quiet room. “Come in, Callie. We don’t bite. Well, not unprovoked.”

Raiden looked up from his steak. His eyes were a startling shade of amber, like a wolf’s. He looked me up and down, his gaze heavy and physical. It wasn’t leering, exactly. It was the way a butcher looks at a prime cut of meat. Assessing. Weighing.

“So this is the renovation expert,” Raiden rumbled. His voice was deeper than Ace’s, a gravelly sound that vibrated in my chest. “You’re small.”

“I’m average height,” I defended instinctively, stepping fully into the room. My heart was hammering against my ribs, a traitorous rhythm. “And I’m not here for renovations. I’m here to clean.”

“For now,” the one in the hoodie, Nate, said softly. He finally looked up. His eyes were green, sharp and intelligent behind the lenses. “Britta says you’re efficient. The library hasn’t been that dust-free in a decade.”

“I try,” I said, edging toward the fridge where Britta had said the staff water bottles were kept.

I felt like a mouse scurrying across a floor filled with lions. My instincts were screaming at me to run, to get out, to go back to the safety of my grandmother’s drafty house.

But another part of me, a darker, more confusing part, was rooted to the spot.

They were breathtaking. Terrifyingly so. It wasn’t just their looks, though they were objectively stunning. It was the energy rolling off them. It was magnetic, and it pulled at that strange static inside me, making my skin prickle and my breath hitch.

I grabbed a water bottle and turned to leave, but Raiden shifted, blocking the direct path to the door.

“In a rush?” he asked, tilting his head.

“I have plans,” I said, clutching the cold plastic bottle like a lifeline.

“Plans?” Ace pushed off the counter and sauntered over, stopping just inside my personal space. The scent of bourbon and ozone hit me again, making my knees weak. “Hot date?”

“None of your business,” I said, trying to channel Britta’s sternness. It didn’t work. My voice shook.

“It is our business,” Ace countered, his voice dropping to a silky whisper. “We like to know who comes and goes. Especially who you go to.”

“I’m going to see my friend Harper,” I said, lifting my chin. “And then I’m going home to call my fiancé.”

The word hung in the air like a curse, and it was as if the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.

Raiden stopped chewing. Nate set his tablet down with a sharp click. Ace’s playful smile vanished, replaced by a look of flat, cold annoyance.

“Fiancé,” Raiden repeated, testing the word as if it tasted like ash. “Right. The lawyer.”

“Liam,” I said, defensive heat rising in my cheeks. “His name is Liam.”

“We know his name,” Greyson spoke for the first time.

His voice was different from the others. It was calm, devoid of emotion, but it carried a weight that made the air feel heavy. He set his glass down on the marble counter.

“We know a great deal about Liam,” Greyson continued, his steel-gray eyes locking onto mine. He didn’t blink. “We know he works for a firm in the city. We know he is…ambitious.”

“He’s successful,” I corrected, though a pang of doubt pricked at me. Liam was ambitious. Lately, that ambition had felt more like desperation, especially when it came to my grandmother’s estate. But I pushed the thought away. Liam loved me. We were a team.

“Success is relative,” Greyson said dismissively. “Is he the reason you are working as a maid, Miss Black? Does your successful fiancé not provide for you?”

“I provide for myself,” I snapped, my pride flaring. “We’re renovating my grandmother’s estate. It’s expensive. I’m pulling my weight.”

“Is that what he calls it?” Ace murmured, his eyes flashing with something that looked like pity, or anger. “Pulling your weight?”

“Look,” I said, stepping back, “I don’t know what kind of game this is, but I’m done for the day. I did my job, and now I’m leaving.”

I felt guilty. Not for snapping at my billionaire bosses, but for the way my body was reacting to them.

I shouldn’t be noticing how Raiden’s t-shirt stretched over his biceps. I shouldn’t be wondering what Ace’s hands felt like. I shouldn’t be captivated by the intelligence in Nate’s green eyes. And I definitely shouldn’t be shivering under Greyson’s cold stare.

I was engaged. I had a ring on my finger…well, on my dresser at home, because it was too loose and Liam hadn’t had time to get it resized yet.

This is wrong, I told myself. You love Liam.

Liam feels like a spreadsheet, a treacherous voice in my head whispered. These men feel like a storm.

“You’re right,” Greyson said abruptly. “The game is over.”

He walked around the island. He didn’t rush, but he covered the distance between us in three long strides. He stopped a few feet away, close enough that I had to crane my neck to look him in the eye.

He was taller than the others. More imposing, and he smelled of rain on cold stone and expensive cologne.

“Go to your friend,” Greyson commanded. “But be careful on the roads, Miss Black. The fog is heavy tonight. And there are wolves in these woods.”

“I know,” I said, breathless. “I grew up here.”

“Then you know that not everything that looks safe is safe,” he said cryptically. His gaze dropped to my left hand, noting the absence of a ring. A flicker of satisfaction crossed his face, there and gone in an instant.

“And Miss Black?”

“Yes?”

“Tomorrow, you start on the West Wing,” Greyson said. “Do not be late.”

My eyes widened in surprise. “The West Wing? But…Britta said that area was strictly off-limits. She said it was your private quarters and I wasn’t to go near it under any circumstances.”

“Britta takes her orders from me,” Greyson said smoothly, his voice leaving no room for argument. “The West Wing has been neglected. It requires attention. Specifically, your attention.”

“But—”

“Are you questioning me, Callie?”

“No,” I breathed. I should have added a ‘sir’, but the word died in my throat. It felt too formal for the heat rising in my cheeks.

“Good. Tomorrow. West Wing. Eight sharp.”

He turned his back on me, dismissing me as easily as he would a servant. Which, I reminded myself, I technically was.

“Bye, Callie,” Ace called out, his grin returning, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t tell Liam about us. I think I like being your little secret.”

He winked.

I turned and practically ran out of the kitchen, my boots squeaking on the polished floor.

I didn’t stop until I was in my car, doors locked, engine roaring to life. My hands were shaking so bad I could barely grip the steering wheel.

I merged onto the winding driveway, putting distance between myself and the stone fortress. But even as I drove away, I could feel them. It was like a tether had been snapped onto my chest, pulling me back.

The static in the car was deafening. The radio turned itself on, blasting a burst of static before settling on a classical station I never listened to.

“Stupid wiring,” I choked out, wiping a hand over my face.

I thought about Liam. I tried to conjure his face, his smile, the way he used to look at me before the renovation started consuming his life. But all I could see were amber eyes, leather pants, intelligent green stares, and a man in a gray suit who looked at me like he owned the very air I breathed.

You’re just tired, I told myself as the iron gates of Grimstone Hall swung shut behind me. You’re stressed. You’re imagining things.

But as I drove into the fog, heading toward town, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Greyson was right.

There were wolves in these woods. And for the first time in my life, I wasn’t sure if the danger was outside the castle walls…or inside them.