The Cold Billionaire's Revenge

The door to my small room slammed open. I shot up, my heart drumming loudly against my chest. Julia, the head maid, stood there, a scowl etched on her face.

"Get up, lazy bones! how do you not know you have to start the chores now?!" she snapped, her voice like ice.

I sat up, sleepy and struggling to make sense of the scene.

"But Julia," I mumbled, trying to rub the sleep from my eyes. "It's so early. No one else is up. I slept really late after doing most of the chores yesterday." My wolf, Lyra, whimpered inside me.

“Too scared, Rayna.”

Julia scoffed. "You think you deserve sleep? Traitor's daughter gets no special treatment. Move and go get the chores done!"

My stomach churned.

"Traitors again, Lyra. It always comes back to that," I muttered under my breath.

It was a title that made me feel dirty. It was a permanent badge of shame I carried around.

Lyra growled low.

“They lie and we know that,” Lyra said.

I grabbed my cleaning rags and a bucket. The stone floor was freezing under my feet. The pack house was huge. So many floors, so many rooms.

I started scrubbing the main hall. My back already ached. Soon, other servants joined. I kept my head down.

“Just get me through another hectic day, Lyra.” I occasionally pleaded with my wolf inside.

"Rayna! Kitchens, now!" Lina's voice. Mean, as always.

"I did them," I started, but she cut me off.

"No, you didn't! Go! Or I'll tell Julia you're skipping work." Her eyes narrowed.

"Okay, Lina," I said, my voice barely a whisper. She always does this, Lyra. Lyra whined. It's not fair.

I moved to the kitchens. Lina's mess. My hands were getting red. Tom, another servant, saw me.

Tom had once made sexual advances at me.

“You must get really lonely, bring the daughter of a traitor. Don't you want company? A man's touch on lonely nights?” He'd asked with a sly smile and I'd simply turned him down.

“Don't be a pathetic little bitch. You know you should be grateful that I want to be associated with a filthy thing like you,” he'd pressed, looking at me with condescension.

I'd refused him still, maintaining that I didn't want to have anything sexual to do with him.

"Hey, Rayna," he said as he walked towards me now, a smirk on his face.

"My back's bad today. Can you do the training grounds?"

"Please," he added, but it wasn't a real please. It was a demand.

"Sure, Tom," I said, my voice flat.

“Lyra, we can't take this.” Lyra whimpered.

“We have to,” I said through my teeth

The training grounds. Mud everywhere. It would take hours. My chest felt tight.

“Why us, Lyra? Why are we always treated like this?”

Lyra had no answer, only a deep sadness.

"They're wrong about our parents," I whispered to myself, to Lyra. They have to be. Lyra let out a soft whine of agreement. We know.

I scrubbed harder. Tried to block out the pain. The morning sun started to shine through the big windows. Just get through today. One more day.

"I hate this," I muttered.

We know, Lyra agreed, her voice a low thrum inside me. But we survive.

I was cleaning a small corner near the big stairs. Head down, focused on a stubborn spot. Almost done here.

Then, a feeling. Like the air itself changed. It got quiet. Powerful. My instincts screamed. Lyra, something's here. Lyra was suddenly alert, a low growl starting deep in her chest. Alpha.

My head snapped up. My eyes, stinging from being tired, found him. Alpha Claude.

He stood at the top of the stairs. Looking down. Right at me. My heart hammered. Lyra, he sees us! Lyra pulsed with panic. Run, Rayna!

His eyes. So sharp and intense. He looked right through me. A shiver ran down my spine. Did I do something wrong?

"Oh no," I breathed.

“Move!” Lyra urged, her fear strong.

I grabbed my bucket and rags. I didn't think. Just ran. Ran away from his eyes. Away from his power. Away from the fear that he would be angry. Away from everything. My breath hitched. I ran until my lungs burned. I found an old storeroom, dark and dusty. I ducked inside, shaking.

He saw you, Lyra whispered, still panting inside me.

"I know," I choked out. "What if he's mad?"

“He didn't look mad, Lyra said,” a little confused. He just looked... at us.

"It doesn't matter," I told her. "I ran. I shouldn't have run. Now he'll think I'm even more useless."

No, Rayna, Lyra argued, a soft nudge in my mind. We were scared. It's okay.

"It's not okay," I whispered, curling up on the cold floor. "Nothing is ever okay for us."