Chapter 2: First Blood

My eyes darted to the doorway. Beta Marcus stands there with a thunderous expression, he folds his arm over his chest. His massive frame fills the entrance, blocking out the light from outside.

For a moment, nobody moves.

Then Derek releases my throat, stepping back quickly. 

"Beta! We were just..?

"Just what?" Marcus's voice is deadly calm, which somehow makes it more terrifying than if he'd shouted, “Just raping the new servant on her first night?"

"We weren't–it's not like that.." Tyler stammers.

"Get Out." Marcus doesn't raise his voice, but the command in it makes them all flinch. "All of you. Now."

They scramble for the door like rats fleeing a sinking ship. Lisa and Morgan release my arms and I collapse forward. Josh lets go of my hair. Derek gives me one last resentful look, before following the others out.

The door closes behind them, but doesn't lock. Marcus remains, looking down at me with an expression I can't read.

I'm curled on the floor with my dress torn, my skin bleed staining my clothes red. My whole body trembles uncontrollably, from the cold sensation of the floor.

For a long moment, Marcus just stood there and silently stared at me. Then something almost like pity flickers across his face. Just for a second. Then it's gone, replaced by cold indifference.

"You got lucky tonight," he says flatly. "It won't happen again."

I can't speak. Can't move. Can only stare at him with wide, terrified eyes.

"The Alpha wants you worked to death, not fucked to death. At least not yet." He turns to leave, then pauses with his hand on the door. "Oh, and Roselyn? Tomorrow morning, you report to the pack house kitchen at dawn. You're on waste disposal duty. Miss it, and I'll let Derek and his friends back in here. Understand?"

I manage a tiny nod.

"Good."

The door closes. The lock clicks from the outside.

I stay frozen on the floor, afraid to move. Afraid that if I do, they'll come back.

Finally, when I'm sure I'm alone, I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. The sobs come then, shaking my entire body until I can't breathe.

This is my life now. This is what I am.

I cry until I have nothing left, until I'm hollow and empty. My torn dress hangs off my shoulders. My throat aches. Everything hurts as hell.

I manage to crawl to the mattress, pulling a thin, ratty blanket over my body even though it does nothing to stop the cold that's settled into my bones.

Outside, the celebration continues. I can hear music and laughter. They're all so happy I'm gone.

I close my eyes, wishing I could disappear completely.

But deep inside, in that dark quiet place where my wolf should be, I feel Cicilia stir.

Cicilia whispers to me in a voice like silk and shadow: "Soon, just a little more time, he will be here, he will soon be here."

And for just a moment, I felt her emotion, I felt her rage, but she soon went back to slumber.

.

The morning starts like every other morning. I'm in the kitchen, scrubbing pots that haven't been cleaned properly in weeks. The smell of old grease and rotten food fills my nostrils. My hands are raw and bleeding.

"Faster!" Beta Marcus's voice booms across the kitchen. He stands with his arms crossed, watching me like a predator. "These pots won't clean themselves, wolfless."

"Yes, Beta." I scrub harder, my fingers screaming in protest. "I'm working as fast as I can."

"Your best is pathetic." He walks over and grabs a pot from the pile. Water sloshes everywhere. "Look at this, Still filthy. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"I'm sorry, Beta. I'll do better."

"You always say that. And you always fail." He throws the pot down. It clangs loudly against the concrete floor. "You know what you need? Motivation."

Before I can respond, he pulls out a thin leather whip from his belt. My stomach drops. I've felt that whip dozens of times over the years but It never gets easier.

"Hold out your hands," he orders.

I do. My hands are shaking so badly I can barely hold them steady.

The whip cracks through the air. The first strike lands across my palms and I bite down hard on my lower lip to stop myself from crying out. Blood pools in the creases of my skin.

"Count them," Marcus demands.

"One," I whisper painfully.

The whip comes down again. And again. And again.

By the tenth strike, my hands are throbbing and hot tears run down my face despite my best efforts to hold them in. The other servants in the kitchen pretend not to notice. They've learned that showing sympathy to me only gets them punished too.

"That's for your pathetic work this morning," Marcus says, coiling the whip back around his belt. "Do better, or next time it'll be your back."

He leaves but I remain standing there, I stare at my bloody hands. I wince as I try to clench them, damn it, why hasn't my hand got used to this years of beating, why did it still hurt so much. I rub my hands on my clothes, to get rid of the blood. Then I continue scrubbing.

The afternoon is worse.

I'm sent to the storage room to organize supplies. It's dark in there, with only one small window high up on the wall. I'm alone, which is both a relief and terrifying. The quiet means I can breathe for a moment. But it also means no one can hear me if something happens.

I'm stacking boxes when I hear footsteps. Heavy footsteps. I look up and my heart stops.

Three male wolves enter. I recognize them immediately. Dale, Ronnie, and Scott. They're all high-ranked warriors, popular with the pack. They're also the ones who've been hunting me for weeks.

"Well, well," Dale says, his voice dripping with false friendliness. "Look who we found."

"Hi, Roselyn," Ronnie adds. He's smiling, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "We've been looking for you."

I stand up slowly, my instincts screaming at me to run. "I'm just organizing supplies. I'll be out of your way in a minute."

"You're not in our way," Scott says. He steps closer and I back up, my hips hitting the edge of a table. "We actually wanted to see you."

"What do you want?" I ask, even though I already know. I can smell their intention on them. It reeks of lust.

“A servant never questions his master's intention, she only obeys. Now Wolfless I command you to strip” Dale hungry gaze already stripping me naked.

“Roselyn, why are you not done yet?” Fortunately a voice saved the day.

I looked up and it was Marcus personal guard, immediately release a breath I don't even know I was holding.

“ And what are you guys doing here, beta Marcus requests your presence, three of you.”

They unwillingly leave with the guard. I know Beta Marcus saved me again today, he has been doing it frequently in the past years. I still don't know why he is going out of his way to save me.

Taking a deep sigh I resume my duties.

I finish organizing the supplies with numb, mechanical movements. By the time I'm done, the sun is setting. I have maybe an hour before the evening meal service begins.

But I can't go back to the kitchen and pretend everything's fine. I can't face Marcus or the other servants or anyone else who will look at me with pity or disgust.

So I do what I've been doing recently, I slip out through the back entrance of the pack house. No one stops me. No one even notices I'm gone.

I run through the forest leaving the pack lands behind, I'm heading toward the place I've started coming to secretly. The forbidden river. The boundary between our territory and vampire lands. 

I shouldn't go there. It's dangerous. But right now, I don't care.

The water is cold and dark when I finally reach the river. I strip off my torn shirt and shred of pants and wade in. The cold is sharp and shocking against my skin. It makes me feel alive.

I scrub my skin over and over again. I try to wash the fear and the shame away. My fingers are still bleeding from this morning's whipping, and they sting in the water.

I'm so focused on washing away the feeling that I almost don't notice him.

There's someone on the other side of the river.

I freeze. Water dripped from my shoulders. The river is maybe thirty feet wide here. He's standing at the water's edge, perfectly still and quiet. How long has he been there?

"Don't be afraid," he calls out. His voice is smooth and warm, like honey poured over velvet. "I won't hurt you."

I should scream and run. There's a reason the pack warns us about the forbidden river. There's a reason we're told never to cross into vampire territory.

Instead, I stare at him, my gaze refusing to leave him.

He's so fucking tall, and he is handsome. Though his skin was pale, it made him look otherworldly. Even in the dim light, I can make out his dark hair and sharp features. He's wearing all black, which makes him blend into the shadows.

"What are you?" I whisper.

"Someone who heard a girl screaming and wanted to make sure she was okay," he says. "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Okay?" He takes a step closer to the water "You look like you've been through something."

I glance down at myself. I'm standing in a river in just my underwear, covered in bruises and torn skin. I must look absolutely pathetic.

"I'm fine," I lie

"You're a terrible liar," he says. And he's smiling. Actually smiling. Like this whole situation is amusing somehow. 

"What's your name?"

I shouldn't tell him. I shouldn't be talking to him at all.

"Roselyn," but my mouth betrayed me.

"Roselyn." He says it like he's tasting the word. "That's a beautiful name. I'm Stark."

"Stark." I repeat it, feeling the strangeness of the name on my tongue. "Are you a vampire?"

"Very perceptive." He moves even closer to the water's edge. Now I can see his eyes. They're dark. Impossibly dark. Like looking into endless nights. "Does that frighten you?"

"Yes," I admit.

"Good." He grins, and I catch a glimpse of fangs. "Fear keeps you sharp. Alert. Alive." He tilts his head, studying me. "Tell me, Roselyn. What brings a young werewolf to the forbidden river? Alone and Injured?"

"I just wanted to wash," I say quietly.

"And who hurt you?" His voice drops lower.

"Who left all those marks on your skin?"

I don't answer. I can't.

"Someone from your pack," he says. It's not a question. "Your own people."

I turn away from him, wading back into the deeper water. I don't know why, but his presence is making my heart race, maybe I'm afraid of him.

"You should leave," I tell him. "If anyone sees us talking–"

"Your kind would hunt me?" He sounds amused. "And mine would hunt you?"

"Exactly."

"How terribly tragic," he says. But he doesn't sound like he thinks it's tragic. He sounds like he thinks it's exciting.

 "Tell me, Roselyn. Do you always obey the rules?"

I look back at him. He's standing at the very edge of the water now. Close enough that if I waded back, I could almost touch him.

"I have to," I say.

"Do you?" he asks. "Or have you just accepted what you've been told?"

Before I can answer, he turns. Just like that. He turns and melts back into the shadows like he was never there at all.

"Wait!" I called out. "Where are you going?"

His voice comes back to me through the darkness, disembodied and strange. "Somewhere safe. Where people like me don't get to talk to people like you. But I'll be back, Roselyn. Same time next month. When the moon is full."

"I don't know what you mean," I say.

"Yes, you do," he replies. And even though I can't see him anymore, I can hear the smile in his voice. "You'll come back. Curiosity always wins."

Then he's gone. Completely gone. Like he evaporated into the night air.

I stand in the river, the cold water swirling around me. My heart is still racing. My mind is spinning.

What just happened?

I replay the conversation over and over in my head. A vampire. I just had a conversation with a vampire. The most dangerous enemy. And I didn't scream. I didn't run.

I talked to him.

And more terrifying than anything that happened in the storage room today is the single thought that fills my mind as I wade out of the river and pull my ruined clothes back on.

I want to see him again.