Chapter Twenty five

Avery's POV.

The hall was a 6,500 sq. ft. pillarless space with luxurious decor. The people arrived in a dozen, each wearing a new dress that would probably be discarded after the night was past.

In the sky, the moon provided natural lighting into the hall, which held the event.

Greetings were exchanged between packs. A sweet melody was drifting through the busy atmosphere. A heavy, intoxicating scent of alphas and powerful wolves hung in the air.

I moved through the crowd like a ghost, the tray of glasses weighing down my trembling arms. My maid's uniform felt like a shroud, but the collar was what everyone saw.

Then I saw them.

At the far end of the long table of the Silver-Ridge Pack sat Aurelia and Elira, my sister Zara’s closest friends. We had never gotten along. And I knew, the moment our eyes met, they would try to humiliate me.

Elira was dressed in a white flowing elegant gown with subtle jewelry and neatly styled hair. She was sipping wine and smiling at Aurelia.

I tried to turn away immediately. Too late.

Aurelia's gaze caught me from where she sat. She leaned back with a dark smirk playing on her lips. “More wine over here.”

I approached her, my breath coming in shallow hitches. As I reached to pour her drink, she suddenly shifted her chair.

Her shoe caught my ankle, and the tray fell. The sound took over the room, slicing through the music, spilling the drink all over Elira's white dress.

The music died. The room went silent.

“You clumsy, cursed bitch!” Elira screamed, standing up and shaking her dress. Then she looked at me, her eyes widened with a cruel realization.

“Oh… look who it is. The sister-killer has found a home in the dirt.”

She looked at the collar and laughed, a shrill, ugly sound. “A prisoner's collar? It suits you. It keeps that murderous mouth of yours shut.”

She stepped closer, the smell of the spilled wine and old hatred filling the space between us.

She pointed down at her shoes where the wine was dripping onto the floor. “You ruined these. They cost more than your life is worth.”

“It was an accident,” I whispered. My voice cracking.

“Accident? Like your sister's accident?” Elira sneered. She looked around at the gathered packs, making sure every ear was listening.

“She's cursed! She carries the blood of her sister on her hands. She doesn't deserve to live.”

She leaned down, her face inches from mine.

“You were always a stain on our pack, and now you're just a collared pet. Since you like being a dog so much, act like one. Kneel. Lick the wine off my shoes, murderer.”

Tears welled up in my eyes and I didn't try to hold them back, I let them fall freely. My vision blurred. The humiliation felt heavier than the iron around my neck.

I felt my knees start to give way, not out of obedience, but out of the sheer crushing force of her words. A shock of ice-cold wine instantly soaked through my skin.

She held out her foot, a dark spill of drink clinging to the sole of her shoes, dripping slowly along the edge.

I stared at it, my hands trembling on my lap, as the weight of every gaze in the room pressed down. Leaning forward, the scent of wine grew overpowering, and with a shaky breath, I ran my tongue along the inner sole.

It tasted intensely sweet mixed with the gritty dust on the floor. She didn't move, she kept tapping her heels on the floor impatiently enjoying the spectacle, forcing me to work faster.

My tongue made a soft, wet sound as it continued licking the liquid out of her sole, trying to get the last of it out.

I pulled back slowly, regaining what little composure I could.

“Look at me,” she said softly as if nothing had happened. “Clean up the broken glass.”

“I'll get something to clean it up,” I said, rising to my feet.

Her voice stopped me. “You've got hands, don't you? Use them.”

I froze. “...What?”

“Did I stutter, Avery? Pick up every piece. With your hands.”

“No…I won't do it,” the words slipped out before I could stop them.

“Do you know how sharp these shards are? They'll cut me the moment I touch them.”

“I don't care. Pick them up.” She grabbed my arm, nails digging into my skin.

Then the heavy doors at the end of the hall creaked. Lucian stepped into the hall. His head tilted slightly, as if listening then stilled, his attention locking onto Elira standing over me.

“I don't recall giving anyone permission to touch what belongs to me.” His voice came low, but felt like a knife slicing through the silence.

Lucian took another step forward. The sound of his cane against the floor was slow, marking his path.

Elira’s grip on my arm loosened but she didn’t step back.

“Alpha,” she said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I was only correcting a servant who forgot her place.”

Lucian didn’t respond immediately. He tilted his head slightly, as if listening not to her words, but to the tremor beneath them. The fear she was trying to hide.

“She knows her place,” he said quietly.

His next tap echoed louder. “She is exactly where I put her.”

Elira’s fingers slipped from my arm completely now. “But—” she started.

“Did I give you permission to touch her?”

Elira swallowed. “No, Alpha.”

Every eye in the hall shifted from me to her. A wave of apprehension passed over the crowd. Then he straightened.

“Pick them up.”

Elira blinked. “What?”

“The glass,” Lucian clarified, his tone lifting just slightly. “You seemed very concerned about it.”