Twilight settled gently over Bloodstone Manor, painting the stone walls in shades of amber and gold. Lanterns glowed beneath the covered walkways, their warm illumination reflecting against polished windows while the scent of roasted herbs drifted from the kitchens.
The manor carried none of the rigid formality expected of an Alpha's residence. Servants moved with quiet confidence rather than fear, greeting one another with familiar smiles as they prepared the evening meal.
The merchant noticed every detail before he crossed the threshold, his sharp eyes evaluating the structural defenses and the demeanor of the staff. Nothing appeared staged or rehearsed for his benefit, which only heightened his internal vigilance. That lack of superficial performance, more than anything else, unsettled him deeply.
