Change of fate

I woke to the taste of blood in my mouth.

Thick. Metallic. Bitter.

It rested on my tongue like a warning from my own body.

The room around me was dark and cold. Not the kind of cold you feel on your skin but the kind that sinks into your bones and stays there. My wrists burned as though someone had held fire to them. My whole body ached in places I didn’t want to remember. Every breath felt like something sharp was stuck inside my ribs.

My voice shook as I whispered his name, the name I had learned to fear.

“Alpha… Aaron…”

My throat felt dry and torn. I forced out one more breath—

But before I could speak again,

BANG!

A hand crashed against my cheek with so much force that the room spun. A hot sting rushed across my face. My tongue hit my teeth and sliced open, sending fresh blood into my mouth. I tasted myself.

Aaron had punished me before.

But this—

this was different.

Nothing compared to what he did after finding me with Leon.

“So now you are sleeping with my guest, is that it?” Aaron shouted.

His voice filled the room, raw with rage.

Before I could even look up, his fist slammed deep into my belly.

The air left my lungs.

I folded over, coughing blood, choking on my own breath.

Pain shot through my body like lightning.

My vision blurred with black spots dancing around the edges.

My eyes were already swollen from the last punches he gave me. I couldn’t even keep them open properly. My legs trembled, then went numb beneath me. I fell to the cold floor, holding my stomach as if my hands could stop the pain from spreading.

“I… I didn’t…” I tried to speak, but my words came out in broken whispers. I couldn’t even hear myself properly. My ears were ringing.

Aaron grabbed the back of my head and yanked it upward so hard I felt something crack in my neck. He pulled my face close to his. His hot breath brushed my lips. The smell of alcohol mixed with anger filled the air between us.

“Did you enjoy it?” he growled.

“Does his dick feel sweeter, huh?”

His fingers twisted deeper into my hair. My scalp burned. Tears filled my eyes, not from fear, but from the physical pain ripping through every part of me.

I laughed.

I didn’t even know where the laugh came from.

Maybe from the part of me that had given up.

Maybe from the part of me that wanted him to feel something—anything—other than control.

My lips pulled back, showing my blood-stained teeth.

“He might have been a stranger,” I whispered, voice trembling but sharp, “but at least he made me feel things you could never dream of. He was a lot better than you.”

I saw it instantly, the rage that shot through Aaron’s eyes.

His pupils shrank.

His jaw tightened.

His hand trembled with fury.

I had stepped on something I should never have touched.

He slapped me again.

A hot, burning slap that rang in my ears and blurred my sight.

My head snapped to the side.

My cheek went completely numb.

But I kept laughing.

“At least… your slap hits deeper than your dick,” I spit out, and with the last bit of strength I had, I spat blood right onto his face.

Something inside him exploded.

He grabbed me by my arm and dragged me across the floor like I weighed nothing. His foot crashed into my belly once, twice, then again. I curled into myself, but it didn’t help. Every kick sent a new wave of fire through my ribs. I felt something shift inside. Maybe a bone. Maybe my life.

He kicked until my body stopped reacting.

Until my pain blended into one long, distant scream inside my head.

Until I couldn’t tell which part of me hurt the most.

Then everything went dim.

His voice became faint.

The room grew quieter.

The world around me faded into shadows.

I heard the door slam open.

Fast footsteps.

Voices.

Shouting.

But they all sounded like echoes coming from far away.

And then silence.

Complete, heavy silence.

When I regained a little bit of consciousness, I felt myself being lifted—then placed onto something that bounced lightly with movement. It felt like I was on a carriage, moving over rough ground. Each bump stabbed at my ribs. My broken body jerked helplessly with every pothole.

I forced my eyes open, just a little.

Blurry light.

A wooden ceiling.

A hand holding mine—soft, gentle, the complete opposite of Aaron’s.

I panicked and tried to sit up, but pain shot through my ribs so sharply I fell back with a gasp. A cry escaped my throat before I could stop it.

A woman appeared beside me.

She held my shoulder gently, guiding me down again.

Her face was full of worry.

“Please don’t move,” she whispered.

“Your wounds may open again.”

Her voice was warm, almost motherly.

I blinked, trying to focus.

My mind felt slow, confused, heavy.

“Who… are you?” I asked weakly.

“And where are you taking me?”

She helped adjust my head gently on a rolled cloth. Her touch was careful, like she was afraid I would break again.

“It’s okay,” she said softly.

“We just want to treat your wounds. Our young master saved you tonight. You don't have to suffer anymore.”

Saved me?

My brows tightened.

My chest rose and fell in small, painful breaths.

“Young… master?”

My voice cracked as I tried to understand.

My mind was still stuck on Aaron, on the punches, on the floor.

I wanted to sit up again, but a stabbing pain in my ribs forced me down immediately. I groaned, clutching my side.

“Aaron… Alpha Aaron… he will punish me if I leave…” I whispered, tears gathering in my eyes.

The woman shook her head with sadness.

“You will not go back to him,” she said firmly.

“Not after what he has done.”

The world started spinning again.

My eyelids grew heavy.

The woman’s face blurred, then faded away completely.

Darkness swallowed me once more.

When I opened my eyes again, I was somewhere else entirely.

Soft white curtains hung around the bed, moving slightly with the breeze. The mattress under me was so smooth and soft that it felt unreal. The room was quiet. Calm. Peaceful.

For a moment, I felt safe.

Then the memory of Aaron’s fists hit me like a slap. My heart jumped. I sat up too quickly.

Pain shot through my ribs, forcing a loud gasp out of me.

“This isn’t Aaron’s mansion…” I muttered, looking around in panic.

The walls were clean.

The air smelled like herbs, not sweat and anger.

There was no shouting, no threat, no Alpha waiting to punish me.

I slipped out of the bed slowly, my legs shaking under my weight. Every movement sent a dull ache through my body, but I forced myself to keep going.

I reached for the pair of simple shoes placed beside the bed.

I bent down, pain stabbed my ribs again. I groaned.

My eyes watered from the effort.

Just as I managed to slip one foot in, the door slid open.

Footsteps approached—quiet, calm, controlled.

Not the footsteps of a monster.

But footsteps of someone who knew what they wanted.

I lifted my head slowly.

My breath froze.

Leon.

The man whose touch had changed everything.

The cause of this entire nightmare.

My jaw tightened.

Anger flared through me even though my body was weak.

He looked at me with those grey eyes, cold and warm at the same time. His expression softened as he approached, almost like he was relieved to see me awake but I didn’t feel any relief.

I felt rage, confusion, fear.

Memories flashed through my mind:

His hands on my waist.

His lips on my neck.

The fire that spread through my body under his touch.

His gentleness that felt so dangerous.

But then all that was without my consent and worse I had to get punished for his wrongs.

I clenched my fists.

My nails dug into my palms.

Leon stopped right in front of me.

Then he knelt down slowly, his eyes still locked on mine. A faint smile touched his lips—small, almost shy.

It made me angrier.

I glared at him with everything inside me—bitterness, hatred, hurt, rage.

“Welcome home, Brenda,” he said softly.

“From now on, you are my wife. My Luna.”

His smile grew, but the more he smiled, the more I wanted to scream.

The more I wanted to hit him.

“I promise,” he continued, “I won’t claim you until you accept me as your husband. You can stay here. It’s safe. No one will hurt you again.”

His words sounded far away.

My mind replayed Aaron kicking me.

My ribs cracking. My vision fading.

My voice breaking.

Leon’s promises felt like dust.

Without thinking, I lifted my hand and slapped him across the face.

The sound echoed through the room.

He froze.

The smile disappeared.

He looked at me—not with anger, but with confusion. Disappointment.

A trace of hurt.

But no anger.

My hand trembled.

My whole body trembled.

I stared at him, waiting for him to shout, to punish me, to grab me like Aaron always did.

But he didn’t.

The world fell silent.

And my heart beat painfully in my chest.

His hand slowly rose to his cheek where I slapped him.

He touched it gently, then dropped his hand.

“Brenda…” he whispered, voice low, almost broken.

My breathing became ragged.

My eyes burned with unshed tears.

My legs shook beneath me.

“What do you want from me?” I whispered, voice cracking with pain.

“Why won’t you leave me alone?”

Leon looked at me like I had stabbed him straight in the heart.

But he said nothing.

He just knelt there—silent, hurt, patient, while I stood in front of him, broken in more ways than I could count.