Lily sat alone in the corner of the servant’s quarters, her back pressed against the cold stone wall. The others huddled by the fire, laughing, passing around bread and dried meat. Her stomach growled, eyes fixed on the floor.
They thought she was proud. Arrogant. A snub. They still hadn’t realized she was mute.
No one asked about it either, they just assumed she thought she was better than them. A spoiled Brightpaw girl, too good to answer when spoken to. So they made her pay for it.
"She always acts like she can’t hear us," one of them said, loud enough for her to hear. "Too good to share the same food?"
“She can eat what’s left if there’s anything,” another replied with a smirk.
They laughed. Then someone kicked over the small bowl they had set aside for her. Bread crumbs scattered on the floor.
Lily didn’t move. She waited until they left the room one by one, dragging their full bellies to their mats. Only then did she crawl forward, picking up what was left, the bits no one wanted.
Her fingers trembled as she ate in silence, her throat dry, her stomach aching. But it wasn’t just hunger. It was the shame. The way they looked at her. The way they treated her like she was nothing.
She remembered the days when she was still known as the Alpha’s daughter. Life wasn’t kind then either. Her father was cold, her brother cruel. She was ignored and her pain was dismissed.
But not everyone turned away. The servants, especially Martha, looked out for her. Martha would slip her food when she was left hungry, hide her from her brother’s anger, and whisper comfort in the quiet. Those moments were small, but they mattered.
Martha was gone from her side, pulled away like everything else she once had. And she was left alone this time, with no one to protect her.
She never cried. Not when they shoved her. Not when they laughed behind her back. Not even when they spat in her food. .com
What was the point? No one cared. Now, she was just the mute girl in chains. No name. No voice. They didn’t know silence was all she had left. It hurt to hold everything in, but she did it—every day.
‘I can’t wait for this to end. I wish I were dead,’ Lily sighed deeply. She pulled the thin blanket tighter, curled up on the cold floor, and shut her eyes.
Another day dawned, and the sun hung high, scorching the fields below. Sweat clung to Lily’s skin, stinging her eyes as she bent low, gathering stalks into the basket. Around her, the others dropped their tools, laughed, wiped their faces, and found shade under the trees.
“Break time!” someone called. They scattered, eager for water and rest. Lily stayed behind. She always did.
Bianca had repeated her instructions that morning. “You don’t stop until I say so. You hear me, mute? Keep working.” So she did.
Her arms ached, her legs shook, vision blurred from heat and exhaustion. Still, she pushed forward and lifted another heavy bundle into the basket strapped to her back. Her steps were slow and careful as she made her way across the uneven ground.
But her foot caught on a buried root, and she stumbled. The basket tipped. Grain scattered across the ground like spilled sand. Her breath caught. Now she was in deep trouble.
She dropped to her knees and scrambled to gather it up, her fingers clawed at the dry earth. She knew what would come next and felt it before she heard the footsteps.
“You worthless little thing,” a guard snarled behind her. “Can’t even carry a basket?” She looked up, eyes wide, mouth opening, but no sound came.
She tried to explain, tried to beg with her eyes, but he didn’t care. The whip cracked before she could move.
Pain exploded across her back. She bit down on her lip so hard it bled, but she couldn’t scream. Again and again, the whip came down.
The grain lay forgotten as she hunched over, arms wrapped around herself, trembling. The others watched from a distance. No one stepped forward.
“She should’ve been more careful,” one of them muttered.
“She’s always messing up,” another said with a shrug.
When the guard finally stopped, he tossed the whip aside and walked away like it was nothing. f.r(e)e\webn.ovel.co\m
Lily stayed curled on the ground, dust clung to her skin, and blood seeped through her torn shirt. Her hands trembled as she reached for the scattered grain again. She couldn’t rest. She couldn’t cry. She had to finish.
If she didn’t, there would be more pain. More eyes watching. More ridicule. So she worked on it in her quiet, broken fashion. And no one helped.
The horn sounded just as the sun dipped behind the hills. It started as one sharp blast, long and loud, echoed across the fields. Then another. Louder and more urgent. The workers froze, heads snapped toward the sound.
“Invasion!” someone screamed. “Run!”
Then came the growls. Deep, guttural, unnatural. The earth seemed to vibrate with them. From the edge of the trees, dark shapes tore through the brush. Twisted, snarling beasts, bigger than wolves, with glowing eyes and too many teeth.
Panic hit fast. The field exploded into chaos. People dropped tools, knocked over baskets, and shoved each other to get away. Some screamed. Others cried. Most just ran.
“Run!” a woman shouted. “Get to the gates!”
But Lily didn’t move. She stood in the middle of the field, her hands still bleeding from picking grain, her back stinging with fresh welts from the whip. Dust swirled around her as the crowd fled past, but she stood still.
No one noticed her. No one called her name. They never had. She watched as the beasts drew closer with their snapping jaws, matted fur, and fast limbs tearing across the earth. They were ugly things, half-mad, drooling with red eyes.
Still, she didn’t move. What was she running from? The field had been a prison. Every day, she was kicked, cursed at, and pushed to the ground. Her food was stolen. She was the outsider. The mute girl they bullied and ridiculed.
So what was the point in running? She looked at her scraped hands, dirt under her nails, skin split open. Her fingers curled into fists and she took a deep breath. Without thinking any further...she ran forward. She ran towards the beasts.
“Is she crazy?” a voice yelled from behind.
“Who cares? Let her die! She should’ve been dead anyways!”
Lily didn’t turn back. Her bare feet hit the dry earth, steady and sure. The wind pulled at her hair. The roar of the monsters grew louder.
One of the beasts spotted her and turned, letting out a snarl that made the air go still. Lily didn’t slow down.
It charged. And so did she. She didn’t have a plan. She didn’t think she’d survive. But in that moment, none of it mattered. For the first time in a long time, she was free.