Heartfelt Guilt

Zara's POV

The marble counter sparkled under the harsh kitchen lights as I scrubbed it for the third time. My fingers ached from the work. I pressed harder, watching my reflection blur on the shiny surface. If I could just make it sparkle enough, maybe today would be different. Maybe Seraphina wouldn't find a reason to punish me.

The kitchen was empty except for me and two other servants who worked quietly at the far end. We never spoke much anymore; Seraphina banned all conversation during work.

I moved to the next counter, Scrubbing it just as hard as the other ones. The action was almost calming. Almost enough to make me forget the marks on my back from yesterday's beating.

A loud crash broke the silence.

I spun around. One of the other maids stood frozen, her hand still out where she'd knocked over a glass cup. Its pieces are scattered around the floor. Her face went pale.

"No, no, no," she whispered, dropping to her knees.

Before either of us could move, I heard the click of heels against the floor. My stomach dropped, and my heart slammed against my chest.

Seraphina walked into the kitchen, her silk robe flowing behind her. Her eyes found the broken cup, then slowly lifted to me.

"Zara. Why did you do this?" She said coldly.

"I didn't—" I started.

"Of course you did." She walked toward the corner where a leather whip hung on a hook. My heart skipped a beat once I saw the whip.

She pulled it down. Holding it tightly in her arms.

"Please, it wasn't her!" The other maid jumped to her feet, her voice shaking. "Young Mistress, I'm the one who broke it. I knocked it over. Zara was all the way over there. She didn't touch it!"

Seraphina's eyes didn't leave mine. "Is that so?"

Hope sparked in my chest. I thought maybe she'd consider what the other maid said and spare me, but I was wrong; she didn't.

"It doesn't matter." Her voice was calm. "She's in charge of everything that happens in this kitchen. She should have stopped it from happening."

The first hit came before I could brace myself. Fire shot across my shoulders. I bit down on my lip, tasting blood. I wouldn't scream. I wouldn't give her that.

"Please, Young Mistress—" the other maid said in a shaky voice.

"Silence!" Seraphina snapped, and the maid stumbled back.

The whip came down again. And again. Each hit burned worse than the last, tearing through the thin fabric of my dress and opening wounds that had barely started to heal.

My knees buckled on the fourth hit. I pressed my body against the counter, my fingers slipping on the marble I'd worked so hard to polish. My blood would stain it now.

"Look at you," Seraphina whispered, leaning close. "So pathetic. Did you really think your father's name would protect you forever?"

The whip cracked again.

I couldn't hold back the cry that tore from my throat. Tears blurred my vision. My legs finally gave out, and I fell to my knees.

Through the haze of pain, I heard her laugh. That same laugh that used to fill my childhood with joy now filled me with nothing but fear.

I didn't wait for her permission. I pushed myself up and ran.

My feet crashed against the cold floor as I ran through the servants' area. Behind me, I could hear Seraphina's mocking laughter down the hall.

I burst into my room and slammed the door shut, pressing my back against it.

My room looked nothing like a room. It was a closet. A storage space they'd cleared out and thrown a thin mattress into. The bed was hard, the frame shaky. Small bugs crawled along the walls, and the single window was so high and narrow that barely any light came through.

This was what my life had become.

I fell onto the mattress, feeling every spring dig into my body. The pain in my back was terrible.

I curled into myself, hugging my knees to my chest, and finally let the tears come. They felt hot and endless, soaking into the dirty pillow beneath my head.

If my mother were still alive, none of this would be happening.

The thought broke something inside me. My mother had been powerful. So powerful that even the strongest wolves in our pack had respected her. She'd been kind but fierce, gentle but strong. If she were here, Seraphina wouldn't dare touch me. If she were here, my father might still be alive.

But she wasn't here. She'd died when I was fifteen.

I reached for my phone, and with shaking fingers, I scrolled to Damien's name. I'd called him fifty times this week. Fifty times, and not once had he answered.

My finger hovered over his name. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe he'd finally pick up and tell me this was all a mistake. That he still loved me. That he'd come get me.

I pressed call.

It rang a couple of times then went to voicemail.

I let the phone drop from my hand.

A sharp knock on my door made me jump.

"Zara!" It was the head maid, her voice sharp. "The Young Mistress wants her dinner. Take it to her room. Now."

I lay there, frozen. The last thing I wanted was to see Seraphina again. My back still burned from the whipping.

"Did you hear me?" The knock came again, harder this time.

I forced myself to sit up, wincing as the movement pulled at my wounds. If I didn't go, I wouldn't eat tonight. Just like the last two nights. My stomach was already empty with hunger. I couldn't miss another meal.

"I'm coming," I called out, my voice rough.

I dragged myself to my feet and made my way to the kitchen. The other servants looked away as I picked up the tray of food they'd made. Roasted chicken, fresh vegetables, and warm bread. The smell made my mouth water and my stomach twist with hunger.

I carried the tray carefully through the halls.The house felt different at night. Darker. Like the walls themselves were closing in so I had to be extra careful.

When I reached Seraphina's door, I balanced the tray on one hand and knocked softly.

There was no response.

I knocked again, a little louder this time.

That's when I heard a low moan coming from her room.

My eyes widened. Heat rushed to my face. This wasn't the right time. I should leave.

"Who's there?" Seraphina's voice called out, slightly breathless.

My throat went dry. "It's... it's me. Zara. I have your dinner."

Silence stretched for a long moment. I expected her to yell at me to leave, to come back later, to get lost but instead, I heard.. "Come in."

My hand shook as I reached for the doorknob. I had a bad feeling about it, but I pushed the door open anyway.

The sight that greeted me shattered my heart completely.

Damien.

My Damien. My fiancé. The man who'd promised to marry me, to love me forever, to stand by me no matter what.

He was in Seraphina's bed. The white sheets barely covered their naked bodies. His arm was wrapped around her waist, his lips still swollen from kissing her.

I blinked twice to be sure I wasn't seeing things. Then the tray slipped from my hands.

And everything came crashing down to the ground including what was left of my heart.

"No, no, no," I gasped, dropping to my knees. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

I tried to pick up the pieces, to fix the tray, even when I knew it couldn't be fixed. Tears blurred my vision. I couldn't see. I couldn't breathe.

"You clumsy bitch!" Seraphina's scream cut through my panic.

She was beside me in seconds. Her hand cracked across my face so hard my head snapped to the side. The taste of blood filled my mouth again.

Her fingers grabbed my jaw, squeezing until I thought my bones would break. She forced me to look up at her.

"Clean it up," she hissed. "Every. Single. Piece."

I tried to nod, but her grip was too tight. She finally let go, and I fell forward, my hands touching the broken glass.

Through my tears, I looked at Damien. Hoping he'd say something, hoping he'd try to stop her.

But he just stared down at me. His face was blank. Empty. Like I was a complete stranger to him.

Seraphina walked back to the bed. She climbed onto Damien's lap, running her fingers through his hair.

"Baby, should we continue?" Her voice was sweet, loud enough for me to hear. "I don't know why this wretched pig had to interrupt us."

I knelt there on the floor, picking up broken pieces of glass. Each piece cut into my fingers, my blood stained the tiles.

Behind me, I heard them start again. The bed creaking. Her soft moans filled the room. He groaned really loudly, his voice dripping with pleasure.

They were acting like I wasn't there at all.

I wiped the tears burning in my eyes.