"You’re still breathing," Milo said, crouching beside me.
I let out a soft laugh, though it was weak. "Barely."
He didn’t touch me, but just being there, just having someone who didn’t look at me like I was dirt, meant everything.
"Thank you," I whispered, trying not to cry again. "Thank you for staying."
Milo looked at me for a long moment, his eyes kind but tired. "You don’t need to thank me. You don’t deserve the way they’re treating you, Lisa. None of it."
My throat tightened. I couldn’t even reply.
"You’re stronger than you think," he added quietly. "I know it doesn’t feel like it now. But one day... you’ll get through this. Just hold on."
His words felt like a soft cloth over an open wound. Not a cure, but a comfort. I nodded slowly. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺
"Thank you," I said again, my voice shaking.
He stood, brushing off his trousers. "I have to go now. Duty calls. But I’ll come back later to check on you, alright?"
I nodded once more, trying not to let the fear show in my face. Being alone in this place... it scared me. But knowing he’d come back, even just to check, gave me something small to hold onto.
He gave me one last look, then turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind him.
And I was alone again.
The silence wrapped around me again after Milo left, and it felt heavier than before. I sat there on the edge of the bed, hugging my knees to my chest. My clothes were still damp from the water Belinda threw at me. My hair stuck to my face, and my skin felt cold.
I stared at the closed door.
Not that I expected them to.
But still... part of me had hoped they would check on me. Even if it was just to throw more insults. At least it would’ve meant I was still on their mind.
"They were nice once," I whispered, more to myself than anyone else. "Weren’t they?"
I had only met them briefly as a child, back when they weren’t yet Alphas, back when their faces still held light instead of anger. Back when three boys stepped in front of a rogue wolf and saved a trembling little girl in the woods.
I had never forgotten it.
Even though they never looked at me again after that day, even though I became invisible to the rest of the pack... I remembered them. That day was carved into me like a scar, and I held on to it. I had admired them, quietly, from a distance. I guess... I thought they would still have some piece of that goodness left.
Kael’s cold eyes. Damon’s cruel laugh. Rowan’s mocking voice.
This... this was not what I imagined. This wasn’t the dream my younger self foolishly clung to.
I looked down at my hands.
"They hate me," I muttered.
A tear rolled down my cheek before I could stop it.
And for the first time, I truly wondered if this place, this pack, would ever let me live.
I was just about to close my eyes, thinking maybe I’d finally drift off for a little while, maybe escape the pain for just a moment, when the door creaked open.
I sat up quickly, heart skipping, thinking it might be Milo again.
It was the head of maids.
Behind her stood two other maids, silent, their eyes low. The head of maids, Matilda, walked in with heavy steps, her black shoes thudding against the stone floor like they were carrying a warning. Her expression was cold, lips pressed in a tight line, eyes sharp and uncaring. She looked at me like I was nothing more than a broken plate she had no patience to fix.
In her hands, she held a bundle of dull gray fabric.
My stomach tightened. I didn’t have to ask to know what it meant.
"Get up," she said flatly, her voice as hard as her stare. "Time to get back to work."
I blinked at her, confused, still feeling the ache in my body. My legs trembled just from sitting up. My head spun slightly, and my lips felt dry and cracked. "I... I’m not feeling too well," I tried to say, lifting my hand as if that would help her understand. "I just need a little more time..."
I didn’t see her hand coming.
A sharp sting spread across my cheek as her palm met my face with full force. My head turned with the slap, and a soft cry escaped my lips before I could swallow it. The sound echoed in the silence. The two younger maids flinched but said nothing.
"Did I ask how you felt?" Matilda hissed. "You’re not here to feel anything. You’re here to serve. To obey."
I stared at the floor, biting down on my bottom lip until I tasted blood.
She tossed the uniform onto the bed like it was trash. "Put it on. You’ve wasted enough time."
Then she looked at the other two maids. "Help her change if she’s too weak to do it herself."
I sat there frozen for a moment, heart pounding in my ears, the air thick and heavy around me. My fingers curled into the sheets, and my body wouldn’t move. It wasn’t that I was too weak, it was that I didn’t want to move. Not . Not because she ordered it. Not because I was being stripped of the last bit of dignity I had.
Still, I reached for the clothes.
The fabric felt cold in my hands. Rough, like something meant to scrape away any softness that might have still clung to me. It smelled like old sweat, soap, and obedience.
I wanted to scream. Truly. I wanted to tear the walls down with the sound that was clawing at the back of my throat. I wanted to cry until my chest was empty and my skin turned to salt. I wanted to look Matilda in the eyes and ask her if this was what she considered strength, breaking someone who had already been broken.
A small, tight motion of my head. No words. No defiance.
Because what choice did I have?