7

The grand hall of the Darkfang estate glowed under warm chandeliers and flickering fire sconces. Gleaming black marble stretched across the floors, and crimson drapes swayed gently at every corner. The pack's elite were gathered—alphas from neighboring territories, battle-worn betas, and wealthy nobles draped in silk and leather. The air reeked of wine, power, and secrets.

And Charollet stood at the center of it all—draped in a servant’s dress made of thin, scratchy linen, so sheer it barely protected her from the chill or the stares. Her once soft hands, now calloused from the kitchen and stables, trembled slightly as she balanced a silver tray filled with goblets.

“Smile,” Kade’s voice whispered behind her, his breath warm against her ear. “Or I’ll give them something better to laugh at.”

She swallowed down her pride, lifted her chin, and walked forward.

Each step echoed in her mind louder than it did on the stone floor. She didn’t recognize herself anymore. She had once been a quiet shadow in the rogue woods—dirty but free. Now she was something else. Owned. Paraded. Toyed with.

Laughter erupted near the far hearth, where three broad-shouldered males played cards with a sleek woman draped across one of their laps. When Charollet approached, their eyes dragged across her body with little care for subtlety.

“Well, well,” one of them said, taking a goblet without looking at her. “Didn’t know Kade was letting his pets out in public.”

“Is she mute or just stupid?” the woman beside him asked, swirling her wine and raising a perfectly shaped brow.

“She doesn’t speak unless I tell her to,” Kade answered coolly from behind, making no effort to hide his voice. “She’s still learning how to serve properly.”

Humiliation burned like fire across Charollet’s cheeks, but she didn’t flinch. She moved to the next group, delivering drinks, taking insults, ignoring the hands that lingered too long when they took their cups.

Her legs ached. Her shoulders throbbed. And still, she remained silent.

Kade watched from his high-backed chair at the far end of the room. One leg thrown over the other, wine in hand, eyes never leaving her.

She knew what he was doing.

This wasn’t just a party.

It was a show.

To them, she was no one. A nobody who had somehow offended their precious Beta. A former rogue with no rank, no wolf, no value except what they gave her. And Kade wanted to make sure everyone knew it.

A noblewoman dropped her wine deliberately, and the goblet clattered across the floor, staining the marble with red.

“Oops,” she said with a cruel smile. “Clean it up, pet.”

Charollet knelt without hesitation. Her knees screamed in protest, but she forced herself not to grimace. She picked up the cup, wiped the floor with the hem of her dress, and stood.

The woman snorted. “She’s trained well.”

“I like to keep my things disciplined,” Kade replied smoothly, sipping from his own goblet. “But she’s still… disobedient. Stubborn. Needs reminders of her place.”

Another male spoke up, laughing, “Then let us help, Beta. Shall we teach her some manners?”

“Don’t tempt me,” Kade said with a chuckle that sent ice through Charollet’s spine.

A thick liquid splashed across her back.

It was wine.

She flinched involuntarily.

Another goblet fell, this time on purpose. “Oops,” came the mockery again.

Laughter.

And then—hands. Grabbing. Tugging.

One woman pulled at the sleeve of Charollet’s dress until it tore. Another tried to lift her chin with a dagger’s hilt, inspecting her like cattle.

“She’s pretty for a rogue,” someone muttered. “Those eyes… like a thunderstorm. Bet she cries like one too.”

Charollet’s breath hitched, but she kept her eyes down. She couldn’t afford to react. She had nothing left to defend herself with no wolf, no allies, no voice loud enough to matter.

But inside, she screamed.

Because it wasn’t just shame, it was betrayal. Every moment she had fought to remain intact, to hold onto some fragment of herself, Kade was determined to tear it away.

As the guests returned to their wine and games, as the attention shifted, she backed against the far wall, blood pounding in her ears. Her breath came in shallow gasps. Her dress was torn in places, soaked in drink. Her skin burned from where someone had smacked her hip as she passed.

Kade stood and slowly crossed the room toward her.

She refused to look up.

But he cupped her jaw and forced her to.

“You made it through the night,” he said softly. “Didn’t think you would. I thought you’d cry, run, beg.”

She stared at him, defiant in silence.

His grip tightened. “You think I’m the villain, don’t you?”

She didn’t answer.

Kade smiled bitterly. “You weren’t supposed to matter, Charollet. Just another rogue girl with no wolf. But I couldn’t stop looking at you. You made me want… things.”

He leaned closer, voice darker. “But you made me feel weak. And I don’t tolerate weakness. So now, I’m going to teach you something.”

She braced herself for a blow.

But instead, he released her.

“Rest,” he said coldly. “Tomorrow, your training starts.”

She blinked. “Training?”

“To serve better,” he replied, already turning his back. “You’ve humiliated me long enough. From now on, you’ll be perfect or broken.”

He walked away, disappearing through the carved doors that led deeper into his quarters.

The laughter faded. The guests drank. The music dulled into something far off and irrelevant.

And Charollet, still against the wall, let herself slide to the floor.

She didn’t cry.

But inside, something cracked.

She was no wolf. No rogue. No warrior.

Just a girl in a storm she couldn’t see her way out of.

But storms had a way of shifting the earth beneath them.

And maybe… just maybe… her silence wasn’t weakness.

It was survival.