Chapter eleven

Serafine’s POV

Saskia's gasp froze me. Fear unleashed within me. 

She'd blocked the knife, and I stabbed her instead of myself.

Bran hurried out of bed. His eyes wide and red. His gaze moved from the frozen me to his swaying fiancée.

He didn’t hesitate.

He shoved me so hard that I flew back and hit the floor, air ripping from my lungs. Pain exploded through me. Before I could even cry out, he was already catching Saskia as she staggered, his arms wrapping around her instinctively.

“Bran…” she whispered, her knees buckling.

“I’ve got you,” he growled, his voice breaking as he lifted her into his arms.

I sat there on the cold floor, watching him carry her to the bed like something precious and fragile. 

“Bring the first aid box,” he barked.

A guard sprinted out and returned with a white box clutched to his chest. 

“Bring me a bucket.” the same guard rushed out and returned with a bucket. This time he didn't come alone. Beta Aric, Gamma Bane and Lupin walked in after him.

They stood stunned, eyes flicking between the bloodied bed, the half conscious woman, and me crumpled on the floor.

Bran cut Saskia’s dress open in the back. He leaned down and pressed his mouth to her wound, bile rose in my throat.

What was he doing?

He sucked her wound and spat into the bucket. He repeated the action four times. And I couldn't help but wonder what was in her wound…or in the knife I took. 

Could it be poisoned?

I wasn't sure.

I watched him pour spirit over the wound. Saskia whimpered softly but didn’t wake. He bandaged her wound carefully, and stood up.

“What about her?” one of the guards asked quietly, gesturing toward me.

Bran’s eyes burned red.

A low growl escaped from him as he crossed the room in three long strides. Before I could scramble back, his hand closed around my neck and hauled me up like I weighed nothing.

I gasped, clawing at his wrist as my feet thrashed in the air. Heat flooded my face. My world narrowed to the burning need for air.

“You little human,” he snarled, his breath hot against my skin. “I wasn’t going to flog you initially. But now you’ve defied me again.”

My vision blurred. “You leave me no choice.”

He dropped me.

I hit the floor hard, coughing, sucking in air like it might disappear again.

“Take her out,” Bran ordered coldly. “Give her a hundred strokes.”

The words echoed in my head. My chest tightened. 

“Why don’t you just kill me?!” I screamed, tears falling from my eyes.

He didn’t look at me.

“That’s a waste,” he growled, going back to Saskia.

Strong hands grabbed my arms and dragged me to the front of the pack house.

I was placed on a table. My wrists and ankles were tied to it. Other house servants gathered around, looking.

The first stroke tore a scream from my throat.

Pain exploded across my back, stealing my breath. The second came before the first even settled. Then another. And another.

I lost count somewhere between thinking about my mom, who was probably out there searching for me. I buried myself in the happy moments we shared together. That helped me bear and contain the pains exploding in my body.

Mara and the other servants laughed.

“She deserves it.” some sneered.

“She tried to kill our future Luna.”

“Filthy human.”

I didn't let their words get to me. I just needed a way to get out of here and they would never see me again.

After the hundredth stroke, my back felt flayed open, my body trembled so badly I couldn’t stand. They cut me loose and shoved me forward.

“Get back to work,” one of the guards said.

The kitchen was hell.

Every movement sent knives of pain through my back. I bit down hard on my lower lip as I bent to scrub the stone floor in the kitchen, my fingers trembling around the rag. The fabric of my dress clung to my skin, damp with blood and sweat, sticking to my burning fresh wounds. 

Each time I straightened even a little, white flashes exploded behind my eyes.

“Faster.”

Ember’s voice cracked through the kitchen like a whip.

I flinched instinctively and pushed myself harder, though my arms felt like they might tear from their sockets. The scrape of the rag against the stone floor sounded too loud in my ears. 

Around me, the kitchen buzzed with pots clanging, laughter rising and falling, the rich scent of cooked vegetables and meat twisting cruelly in my stomach.

I hadn't eaten since three days.

“Did you see the way she walks?” Mara whispered loudly, “She's so weak.”

A burst of laughter followed.

My face burned, but I kept my head down. If I looked at them, it would only get worse.

Ember strode past me, her boots stopping right beside my hand. She nudged my wrist with her foot, hard enough to make me gasp.

“Don’t slow down,” she snapped. “You think you deserve rest? After what you did?”

“I—I’m trying,” I whispered tiredly.

She crouched suddenly, yanking my chin up so I was forced to meet her eyes. 

“Trying?” she repeated. “Humans always say that. Useless words from useless things.”

She shoved my face away, and my cheek hit the floor. Pain exploded through my skull, and I tasted my blood.

During lunch time, they sat around a long table in the kitchen, ready to eat. Plates piled high with steaming food passed from hand to hand. Someone tore into a piece of meat, grease shining on their fingers. My stomach cramped violently. I swallowed saliva.

“Please,” I said without thinking, my voice cracking. “Just… just a little food. I can’t—”

Ember straightened slowly and turned to face the others.

“Did you hear that?” she called out. “She wants food.”

They all laughed.

Mara leaned back in her chair, eyes dragging over me. “Work harder,” she said lazily, “Maybe then you’ll earn it.”

Ember’s gaze snapped back to me, her eyes cold. “You’ll eat when I say you eat.”

She walked to me and kicked the bucket beside me, sloshing dirty water across my hands and knees. “Now clean. And when you’re done, you’ll scrub the counters. And the storeroom. And the hallway.”

My arms shook as I pushed myself up again. Each movement hurt the fresh wounds at my back. 

All through the day, their voices haunted me. 

“She thinks she’s special.”

“Did you hear what the Alpha did to her?”

“A human should know her place.”

When my hands slipped and I nearly collapsed, Mara clapped mockingly.

“Careful,” another said. “She might die before tomorrow.”

Ember didn’t laugh. 

“Stand properly,” she barked. “You’re embarrassing to look at.”

By night, my body was no longer mine. It was just pain. My legs buckled once, then again, and the third time I couldn’t catch myself.

Strong arms caught me.  

“Easy,” a deep voice murmured as the arms lifted me gently. I whimpered, my body protesting, but the man was careful.

“I’ve got you,” he said softly. “I’m taking you to your room.”

He steadied me on my feet and crouched down in my front, “Get on my back.”

“Piggyback?” I mumbled.

“Mmhm.” He nodded.

I did as he said without thinking. I had no strength.

My back throbbed as I had my arms wrapped around his neck. He carried me to my small room and dropped me gently on the thin bed.

“I need to clean your wounds,” he said. 

I nodded weakly, and let him clean my back with warm water, his hands were gentle. He apologized every time I flinched. 

I watched with amazement as he worked with ease and expertise, processing herbs and rubbing them on my back wounds. He bandaged the wounds afterwards and packed his bag of medicines. 

“All done,” he said, clapping his hands.

“Thank you,” I forced myself to say.

He waved at me, “It's nothing. I’ll bring you food,” he said and left.

He returned moments later, carrying a tray that smelled heavenly. Roasted rabbit.

I hesitated, wondering if he was an angel sent to rescue me.

“Eat,” he urged.

I munched on the tasty meat, crying as I savoured its taste. In one go, everything finished, except some pieces of bones on the tray. My stomach growled, appreciating me for filling it after three days of emptiness.

I collapsed on the bed and sleep took me fast.

When I woke up the next morning, a tray of avocado sandwich and fresh juice sat beside my bed. The man was sitting on the floor opposite my bed, watching me. There was no chair in my room. Hence, why he sat on the floor.

“Good morning,” he said with a small smile.

“Thank you,” I whispered raspily. “For… everything.”

He smiled. “You must be wondering who I am and why I helped you.”

I nodded yes.

He stood up, wiping his butts. My eyes bulged at his height and frame. He must be a beauty god.

“I'm helping you because you remind me of myself.”

“How?” I asked softly.

He laughed a little. And gosh, his laugh was beautiful. 

“I'm Grayson. Saskia's cousin.” 

The room seemed to tilt.

“You… you helped me,” I said slowly. “Why?”

He locked eyes with me. “Because what was done to you was wrong.”

The door slammed open.