Chapter 20

Diane's POV

“Diane, you filthy bitch! What are you still doing in bed?!” Mara’s voice thundered from outside the door, jolting me from my sleep.

The moment I opened my eyes, I knew I was in trouble. I didn’t need to glance at the wall clock to know I had slept so long and woken up far too late. I was supposed to be up before the sun even rose.

Sunlight was radiating bright into the room through the slightly opened window— daybreak long passed, far beyond the time I was to supposed to start my house chores.

"That foolish girl thinks this is her father's house, huh?!" I could hear Mara snarl and my heart dropped to my stomach.

Mara’s voice had always sent chills down my spine. In the six days I had been here, life had been nothing short of hell.

She was the devil incarnate, sent to torment me, and she was exceptional at it. As the chief maid, she treated me like a tool—something to be used without rest or pity.

“What happened to the alarm because I didn't hear it blare?” I whispered, fear gripping me as I heard her heavy footsteps stomping toward the door.

My eyes darted at the table where the alarm was and I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw it was broken.

How did that happen?

Just then the door burst open, and she rushed in. A scorching slap landed across my cheek, so fierce it knocked me backward.

I clutched my face in pain, clamping my lips to muffle my cry.

“Are you mad?!” She shouted, her face a blur through the tears that sprang to my eyes.

"So she intentionally broke the alarm so it won't disrupt her sleep. Wow..." I heard Zena's voice cut through, laced with hatred.

“No, I didn’t. The alarm was working just fine last night. It didn’t fall. I have no idea how it—”

Another slap landed on my face, this one across the other cheek, sharp as a blade.

My mouth let loose as I cried out, the stinging numbing half of my face.

“I didn’t… do it…” I sobbed, watching in terror as Mara reached for her whip.

The last time she used it on me, four days ago. The pain was so intense it felt like it reached into my bones.

I had accidentally broken a ceramic cup while washing dishes and was punished without mercy.

Since then, I had vowed to follow every rule, to be careful, to remain invisible. I only wanted to do my chores and stay out of trouble.

But today, I won't be able to escape it.

Someone snuck into my room and spoiled the alarm just to get me punished.

Who could do that to me?

There was no other suspect but Zena. She had always harbored a deep hatred for me, and I could see it growing more poisonous each day.

She would do anything to see me dead or exiled from the pack.

I guess she just couldn't live with the reality of me carrying Prince Leo's child.

Since the day I was enslaved in this castle, I hadn’t seen Leo once. It was as if he had erased me from existence. He left me to suffer for a crime I never committed.

My only crime was loving him—with everything I had, sacrificing my werewolf hunter blood to save him from being captured.

I did it out of pure love.

But in the end, he couldn’t even stand by me. He couldn’t face his parents. He let them destroy me.

My inner wolf is dead—killed by his people. I’ve been beaten, stripped of dignity, and reduced to nothing but a wretched slave.

It hurts.

Every night since the day I was brought here, I bury my face in my pillow and cry, weeping in anguish.

And to think—he is my mate. Yet he won’t lift a finger to help me. And I still have to endure Zena, who believes I’m trying to take him from her.

How do I explain that I’m only trying to survive? That I’m learning to live alone in a world that wants me gone? That I’m only waiting for death to bring me peace?

The truth is, the only reason I’m even allowed to live in the castle is because of the unborn child. Once I give birth, I’ll be sent to the mining sector—flogged and forced into back-breaking labor.

I won’t survive a week there. I’ll die like the foolish girl I am. And no one will care or notice.

Not like I would be the first werewolf to die from the harsh labour of mining and digging through rocks.

That was the whole point of the slavery. To die a painful death slow and torturous.

"Face the wall and place your hand on it!" Mara barked, straightening the whip in her hand. Zena stood beside her, smirking in satisfaction.

"Why are you hitting me? I told you it wasn't me. I would never do such a thing." I whimpered, my body trembling as I prayed she would have pity on me.

“Then who did it? You expect me to believe someone snuck in and broke your alarm? For what?” Mara snapped, eyes burning with hatred.

“You probably kicked it down while sleeping,” Zena added with a scoff. “Why don’t you just admit you’re a stupid, clumsy girl and beg for forgiveness?”

My chest tightened, anger bubbling inside me. I clenched my fists, grinding my teeth. "If I had broken it, I'd admit it. But I didn't! Stop accusing me wrongly!"

"Oh, oh, she is trying to be brave now." Zena mocked, clapping sarcastically.

“I should report you to the king,” Mara hissed. “You deserve worse than flogging.”

“Whatever,” I muttered, defiance rising in my chest. “But I will never admit to what I didn’t do.”

“Oh, I see,” Zena sneered. “Pregnancy hormones kicking in?” She stepped closer, eyes locked on my stomach. Leaning in, she whispered, “When I’m done with you, I pity the baby. It won’t survive.”

I let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Don’t push me to the wall.”

“Is that a threat?” she grinned.

“It’s a warning.”

Zena marched over to Mara and snatched the whip from her hands.

“Then fight me!” she shouted and struck. The first lash tore across my back. The second landed on my thighs, searing my flesh with unbearable pain.

I couldn't fight back because I was as weak as a common human against a fierce feral vampire.

If only my wolf were still alive, maybe I would fight and help myself. If only I still had my hunter special blood, I would be able use my ability to save myself.

But I foolishly sacrificed all that for a man who had abandoned me to die in this fate.

"Fight, bitch!!" She spat kicking me to the floor. My body slammed against the wooden table. I curled up, clutching my stomach, trying to protect my child.

She raised the whip to hit me again, but then someone barged in.

"ZENA!!" His voice roared like a lion. "How dare you?"

"Did you care to ask what she did that made..."

Zena's protest was cut off by the sharp crack of a slap, followed by the sound of a whip lashing through the air. Zena’s screams filled the room.

I lay there, weak and exhausted, pain consuming every inch of me.

My vision darkened, and the world slipped away as I lost consciousness.