Why did he always treat her like some sort of nuisance? She had always tried to be friendly and accommodating around him, but Ryder's cold demeanor never seemed to waver. Yet, he treated Mirian differently. Mirian was an omega too.
Ophilia bit her lips. "The-the Luna's silverware needs polishing," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ryder's gaze lingered on her for a moment before he nodded curtly. "I'll get to it," with that, he made a beeline for the kitchen.
Ryder didn't care about other work in the kitchen, but anything that had to do with his Luna was his business. And he'd instructed them in the past to always inform him if they needed help.
Ophilia hastily followed behind him, her gaze drifted to his broad shoulders as he strode ahead, his movements fluid and purposeful.
She wanted to ask about his injuries, but fear and uncertainty held her back. She was worried about him. Ever since that day, she'd been restless and couldn't sleep well at night.
