Bruises, Bonds, and Bitter Rivals

Helen thrust a silver pot at me. My hands shook.

“He wants coffee.”

“Now?”

“Dining room. Through those doors. Pour and leave. Don’t speak unless he speaks first.”

I walked through into a room straight out of a home magazine. Windows overlooking gardens that probably had their own staff. And sitting at the head of it all, scrolling through his tablet like he owned the world, which he basically did, was Zach.

He didn’t even look up.

 I reached for his cup.

“You’re shaking.” His voice was dead flat. “Spill coffee on me and you’ll regret it.”

I steadied my hands and poured. The silence was suffocating. This close, I could see the dark circles under his eyes. He hadn’t slept either.

“Anything else, Alpha?” The words tasted wrong in my mouth.

“No.”

I turned to leave.

“Wait.”

I froze.

Zach set down his tablet and actually looked at me. Really looked.

“Your cheek. How is it?”

I blinked, confused. Then remembered the glass from Marcus’s bottle. I’d almost forgotten.

“Fine.”

“It’s infected.” He stood up fast, and I stumbled back. “Come here.”

“I’m fine…..”

“It wasn’t a request,” he growled.

I reluctantly walked up to him. He touched my face lightly. To my surprise, his touch was light.

The bond hummed happily, and I wanted to scream.

“Helen,” he called. “First aid kit.”

“That’s really not…..”

“You’re no use to me with blood poisoning.” His voice went cold again. Clinical. “Stay still.”

Helen brought the kit. Zach cleaned the cut himself, his movements quick and efficient. I forced myself to breathe normally, to not lean into his touch like my stupid wolf wanted.

“There.” He stepped back. “Keep it clean. It gets worse, tell Helen.”

“Why do you care?”

His expression went hard. “I don’t. But you’re my responsibility now. I don’t let my things fall apart from neglect.”

Things. Possessions. Not people.

“Of course,” I said quietly. “Will that be all?”

For half a second, something like pain crossed his face. Then it vanished.

“Get back to work.”

I practically ran to the kitchen, hands shaking worse than before. The other servants stared, but I ignored them. Four hours until lunch service. Four hours to get my shit together.

…..…..

The day seemed like it was very slow. I worked all day.

I was still cleaning when I saw a woman.

She was standing at the garden entrance and watching me with a strange look in her eyes.

She was….gorgeous.

Lush black hair cascading her back.

Red lips. Designer clothes that probably cost more than everything I’d ever owned combined. She was beautiful in that expensive, calculated way.

“You must be Arabelle.” Her voice was honey with poison underneath. “I’m Penelope. Zach’s… friend.”

Friend. Sure. She sounded a bit possessive. What was she trying to do?

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

I didn’t know why but I suddenly felt some anger in my chest towards. Anger that felt like…jealousy.

“Is it?” She smiled, all teeth. “Must be awful, working for the man who rejected you.“

“You talk like I had a choice.”

“There’s always a choice.” She examined her perfect nails. “But I suppose girls like you don’t know any better. Zach deserves someone refined. Educated.“

My wolf snarled, wanting to rip that smug smile off her face.

“If you’re such a perfect match, why hasn’t he claimed you?”

Her smile froze. “It’s complicated. His parents’ deaths, the pack politics…..there are things you couldn’t possibly understand…..”

“Or maybe he’s just not interested.”

Her eyes flashed with real anger now. “Listen carefully, you little nobody. Zach and I have history. We were practically engaged before his parents died and everything went to hell. But I’m patient. I’ll be Luna of this pack eventually, and when I am, I’ll make absolutely sure you remember your place.”

“My place is already pretty clear,” I said. “Need anything else, or are we done?”

She stepped closer, dropping the fake sweetness completely. “Stay away from him. Whatever pathetic bond you think you have means nothing. He rejected you. Publicly. He’ll never want you. And if you even try to change his mind, I will make your life a living hell.”

“Too late. Already there.”

Penelope’s hand connected with my face, slapping me hard and fast. My cheek throbbed as the slap landed.

“Know your place,” she warned and then walked away.

I touched my face. Blood on my fingers. The cut had reopened.

Helen found me a minute later. “What happened?”

“Fell.”

She didn’t believe me. I could see it in her face. But she didn’t push. “Clean yourself up. Lunch service in thirty minutes.”

I stumbled to the bathroom. My cheek hurt badly.

Eyes that wanted to cry but wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction.

This was my life now. Trapped in a house with a mate who hated me and a woman who wanted me erased.

…………..

Three weeks in and I’d developed a system. Wake before dawn. Work until my hands bled. Avoid Zach. Avoid Penelope. Stay invisible. Survive.

Penelope made sure I knew my place. She’d “accidentally” spill things for me to clean. Trip me in hallways. Make snide comments just loud enough for me to hear but quiet enough that I couldn’t call her out without looking crazy. Once she locked me in the cold storage room for two hours.

“Oh the lock must have gotten broken,” she lied, smirking evilly.

Nobody believed her, but nobody said anything either.

Zach never noticed. Or if he did, he didn’t care.

One Thursday everything changed.

I was in the garden pruning the roses.

A car pulled up.

Expensive engine. I glanced up and saw a sleek silver Audi. Not Zach’s.

The door opened and a beautiful man stepped out of it. Tall, had warm brown eyes and honey blond hair.

He had a smile on his face. Our eyes met.

“Hello there. You must be new.”

“I’m the help,” I said flatly, turning back to the roses.

“Ah. Well, the help has excellent taste in flowers. I’m Simon Sinclair. Beta of the Crescent Moon Pack. Old friend of Zach’s.”