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Ayla's pov
The cold water splashed over my legs again. I did not jump. I did not make a sound. I was used to it. “You missed a spot, stupid girl!” a sharp voice cut through the air. I looked up. Mila, a tall she-wolf with a mean face, was pointing at a patch of floor I had just scrubbed. “Yes, Mila,” I whispered. My voice was always soft. I bent down again and started to scrub the spot with the rough brush. “You are so slow!” she spat. “Are you even trying?” “I am sorry,” I said, not stopping my work. “I will be faster.” “You better be. If I see one speck of dust, you will sleep outside again. And do not think the Alpha will help you. He does not even know you exist.” I did not answer. I just nodded. My hands were red and raw from the soap and water. My knees hurt from pressing on the hard floor. My stomach growled, empty and tight, but I had learned long ago not to ask for food. Another maid walked by and laughed. “She thinks she is special because the guards gave her old bread yesterday.” “Pathetic,” Mila agreed, looking down at me. “You are not even a real wolf. Your wolf has not spoken to you. You are weak.” “I know,” I said quietly. The words hurt, a sharp pain in my chest, but I hid it. I always hid it. Hours passed before I was finally done. My whole body ached. I picked up the heavy bucket of dirty water and carried it outside, behind the old barn. I dumped the water onto the ground. The sky was dark now. From the great hall, I could hear the sounds of the pack, Laughing, talking, the happy noise of wolves eating meat and warm bread. I was not allowed to join them. I sat down behind the barn, hidden in the shadows. I pulled a dry piece of bread from my pocket, saved from the night before. It was hard to chew, but it was all I had. Suddenly, a new smell filled the air. “Who is there?” I asked, my eyes searching the dark. A tall man stepped out from the shadows. He wore a dark cloak with the hood up, so I could not see his face well. His clothes were black. He moved like a hunter, quiet and sure. “Do you always eat alone?” he asked. His voice was deep. “Yes,” I answered, clutching my bread tight. “I do not belong with them.” The man moved closer. His steps made no sound on the grass. “What is your name?” he asked. “Ayla.” “Ayla…” he said, like he was tasting the word. “That is a soft name. It fits a small thing like you.” I looked down at my feet, feeling nervous. “Who are you?” “Just a traveler,” he said, taking another step closer. “I am looking for a place to rest.” “This is the Bloodfang Pack land. You are not from here.” He let out a low chuckle. “You are a smart girl. But I will not hurt you. I just need somewhere quiet.” I pointed a shaky hand toward the woods. “You can stay in the old hunting lodge. No one uses it anymore.” He tilted his head. “Will you show me the way?” “I cannot,” I said, stepping back. “I am not allowed to leave the yard at night.” He stepped even closer, so close I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. “I will not tell anyone.” “I–” I started to say. But he moved fast. His hand shot out and grabbed my arm. His grip was like iron. “You smell like something,” he whispered, his voice rough. “Something I have been searching for…” I tried to pull my arm back. “Let me go.” He did not let go. His hold was too strong. “What are you doing? Please do not–” I begged, panic rising in my throat. “Shhh,” he whispered, pushing me back against the rough wood of the barn wall. “Just for tonight. No one will know. I need this.” “No! Stop, please!” I cried out. He did not stop. The stars above us were bright, but they did not blink. They did not help. He did not stop, even when I cried out. Even when my tears fell onto the cold ground. A long time later, I lay on the ground. I could not move. Silent tears ran down my face into my hair. My dress was torn. My whole body ached with a deep, new pain. I was raped. He stood up and fixed his cloak, like nothing had happened. “I am sorry,” he said softly. He did not look at me. “You smelled like my mate. I could not control myself.” I could not speak. The words were stuck in my throat. He knelt down beside me and pressed something cold and hard into my hand. “Do not tell anyone. Ever. Here are some Shillings. Buy yourself medicine or food. And… thank you.” I stared at the coins in my palm. My hands would not stop shaking. Then, he was gone. He disappeared into the night as quietly as he had come. I was alone. I curled into a ball and cried until my voice was broken and my eyes had no tears left. The next morning, I dragged myself to the pack washroom before the sun was fully up. I did not want anyone to see me. My body was sore. My legs felt heavy as stone. I cleaned the bruises on my arms and scrubbed my skin with rough soap until it burned. But no amount of scrubbing could wash away what had happened. I put on my clean maid dress and tried to pretend I was the same person. Suddenly, the door slammed open. “Ayla!” the head maid shouted. I jumped, my heart pounding hard in my chest. “What is taking you so long? Do you think you are special?” she yelled, her face red and angry. “No, I… I am sorry–” I started. “Shut up!” she screamed. “Sylvia is waiting! You are to serve her now!” I blinked, confused. “Sylvia?” “Yes, you stupid rat! The Alpha’s friend. The one he might make Luna soon!” My lips parted in surprise. “I thought I was not allowed in that wing.” The head maid glared at me, her eyes full of hate. “Do you think I care what you thought? You go now, or I will throw you into the dungeons myself!” I did not argue. I fixed my dress and went to the kitchen. I picked up the heavy tray of food and tea. My hands shook, but I held the tray tight. I kept my head down as I walked. I walked down the long hall to the important part of the pack house. Everything here was clean and shiny. The floors were smooth, the walls were hung with pretty things. I had never been allowed here before. I stopped at a big wooden door and knocked softly. “Come in!” a sharp voice snapped from inside. I pushed the door open and went in. Sylvia stood by the big window. She wore a beautiful dress the color of blood. Her golden hair fell in perfect curls. Her lips were painted a dark red. She turned and looked at me, her mouth twisting into a sneer. “Oh. So they sent another garbage maid.” I kept my eyes on the floor. “Good morning. I brought your breakfast.” “Did I ask for your voice?” she said, her words like ice. “Put the tray there and do not break anything, you rat.” I walked carefully to the small table and placed the tray down as gently as I could. Sylvia walked toward me. Her heels made a sharp click, click, click sound on the floor. “Why are you shaking?” she asked, her voice cold. “I am not,” I lied. “Do not lie to me!” she snapped, stepping so close I could smell her strong perfume. “You think you are better than me? Huh?” “No, I do not–” I tried to say. “You do!” she yelled. “You think you can walk into this wing, where real wolves live, and act like you are clean? You are filth. Omega trash. A stray mutt with no wolf!” I did not reply. I stared at a spot on the floor, trying to push back the tears that wanted to fall. Sylvia leaned forward until her face was next to my ear. “You think you will ever dream of becoming a Luna? You think someone like the Alpha would even look at you? Do not make me laugh.” “I never–” I started. “Shut up!” she screamed. She raised her hand high, ready to hit me. I flinched, squeezing my eyes shut, waiting for the slap. But a deep voice boomed through the room, making the air itself shake. “What is going on here?” Both of us froze. Sylvia turned around quickly. Fake tears were already forming in her eyes. “Alpha!” she cried, her voice sweet and sad. “She tried to poison me!” My eyes shot up from the floor. Alpha? The tall man stepped into the room. He wore a fine black shirt. His eyes were dark and cold. and his scent, that smell choked me. My heart stopped. That voice… It was him. The man from last night. The man who had hurt me. My hand trembled. The glass cup I was still holding slipped from my fingers. It hit the floor and shattered into a hundred pieces. Sylvia screamed. But I did not hear her. The world began to spin. . And then, everything went black. I fainted.Ayla’s POV I left the thunder of the hall behind me, slipping out a small side door into a quiet, dark corridor. My heart was a wild drum of confusion in my chest. The roar of the crowd still rang in my ears, but all I could see was Thorne’s angry, stormy face as he walked away. I walked quickly, the stones cold under my bare feet. I followed the path I thought he might have taken, away from the noise and the light. I found him. He stood before a tall, narrow window, his back to me, a black shape against the silver moonlight. His shoulders were a hard, straight line of tension. He looked like a statue made of shadow and anger. “Thorne.” He didn’t turn. “Go back to your admirers, Ayla,” he said, his voice flat and cold. “They are waiting for their star.” I took another step closer, the chill from the floor seeping into my skin. “What is wrong? Why did you leave like that?” He spun around so fast it made me jump. His eyes were blazing with a storm of feelings he couldn’t—or would
Ayla’s POVFor the next two days, the castle buzzed with talk of the feast. Sylvia was everywhere, always moving, always practicing. You could hear her humming in the halls, see her twirling when she thought no one was looking. She wanted to be the star. She needed to be the star.She started rumors. Sweet, poisonous little whispers that slithered through the rooms like snakes. “Poor Luna Liliana,” her maids would sigh to others. “So sheltered. So quiet. She probably never learned the old dances. It must be hard, to be so… unprepared.”Maddie, the obedient little mouse, helped spread the whispers. I saw her in corners, talking fast and low, her eyes bright with mean joy. She wanted to see me fall on my face. She wanted to watch me be a joke.They didn’t know. While they were practicing their pretty steps, I was in the deepest part of the library. I wasn’t reading about wolf dances. I was studying the old scrolls. The dragon dances. Ceremonies from when the great beasts ruled the skies
Ayla’s POV The peace talks dragged on for days. Around the big wooden table in the council room, words were the new weapons. Caius talked of borders. Thorne talked of respect. The air was thick with fake smiles and hidden knives. I sat beside Thorne, my hands folded, my face calm. But I felt eyes on me. Not Sylvia’s hateful glare. Caius’s. He watched me. Not like a man looks at an enemy. Like a collector looks at a rare, surprising jewel. During a break, as people stretched and drank water, he came to stand near me. “You have a gift, Luna Liliana,” he said, his voice a low, smooth rumble. “The way you spoke of the river trade rights… sharp. Clear. You see the whole board, not just your own pieces.” He sipped his wine, his winter-blue eyes never leaving my face. “It is a rare thing in one so… young.” “I learn from the best,” I said, my voice polite and empty. I did not look at him. “I imagine you do,” he murmured. “A quick mind. A steady hand. Qualities that make a pack truly gre
Ayla’s POV Maddie stood in the doorway, her chest heaving. The sweet mask she always wore was gone, smashed to pieces. All that was left was the ugly truth underneath. Her face was red. Her eyes were wild. “You,” she hissed, the word full of poison. “You think I’m blind? The pots. The cold room. The way you made me look like a fool in front of everyone. You are doing all of it. You are trying to break me into dust.” I didn’t move from the balcony railing. The cool night air felt good on my skin. “I am giving you what you deserve, Maddie. You dug your own hole. I am just watching you stand in it. It’s not a deep hole, but you keep trying to dig it deeper.” Her face twisted into something mean and ugly. She took a shaky step forward. The jagged glass in her hand caught the moonlight, winking like a cruel little star. “I won’t let you! I am not some kitchen omega you can kick around! I was born to be Luna! You stole it! You, a nobody with a monster living in your skin!” She lunged.
Ayla’s POV Thorne’s fury was a quiet, terrible thing. He crumpled the edge of the scroll in his fist. “Forgiven?” he snarled, the word dripping with venom. “He wants me to pardon the bitch who tried to burn you from the inside out? This is an insult. This ends now. The invitation is dead.” He moved to grab the scroll back. To tear it, maybe. “Wait,” I said, my voice too calm in the hot room. He froze, his eyes slicing to me. “Wait for what? For him to spit in my face and call it rain?” I kept my face smooth. My own rage was a cold, hard stone in my gut, but I let none of it show. “We should say yes.” His eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “Explain.” “Let her come,” I said, meeting his gaze without blinking. “Let her walk into Sun Palace thinking she has won. Let her feel safe. Let Caius feel proud of his cleverness. When your enemy is comfortable, they make mistakes. They get lazy.” Thorne studied me. He saw past my calm words. He saw the ice in my eyes, the calculation. He le
Ayla’s POV The invitation to the peace summit was sent to Bloodfang territory. It was set for two weeks from now. Right here at Sun Palace. While we waited for an answer, I started my work. My revenge on Maddie began small. Quiet. The kind of revenge that looks like nothing, but feels like a thousand little cuts. I spoke with the head of the household staff, my voice sweet and concerned. “Poor Maddie,” I sighed. “She seems so restless. Maybe more work would help. I hear the scullery needs extra hands for the copper pots. They say the work is… humbling.” The next day, I saw Maddie, her nice dress covered by an apron, her hands red and raw in soapy water, scrubbing burnt pots. Her face was pure anger. A week later, I spoke to a passing maid. “Isn’t it sad how drafty the north wing rooms are? I’d hate for anyone to be stuck there.” The next day, Maddie’s things were moved from her sunny room to a small, cold room facing the wall. At a council meeting, when Maddie tried to give an







