6

Seraphine’s POV

Heartless but Majestic – Part II

The first thing I felt was pain. Not sharp, just… everywhere.

Every muscle burned like I’d been dragged across gravel. My skin still tingled from last night, a phantom ache that refused to fade. I opened my eyes slowly. The ceiling above me was cracked, the same dull grey of the servants’ quarters.

I was alive. Somehow.

The thin blanket clung to my damp skin, smelling faintly of mold and soap. My throat was dry, my lips cracked. For a second, I just lay there, trying to piece together what happened.

The shower. The Alpha. The pain.

My chest tightened. Every time I remembered his eyes, that blazing red, I felt something twist inside me, fear, yes, but something else too. Something I didn’t want to name.

A sudden knock snapped me out of my thoughts.

Before I could even sit up, the door swung open. The head maid stepped in, face as cold as ever, her hands clasped behind her back.

“Up,” she said. “Now.”

My body didn’t want to move, but I forced it to. Every joint screamed as I sat up.

“Where are we going?” I croaked. My voice sounded awful, like sandpaper.

She didn’t answer, just threw a bundle of folded fabric onto the bed, dark grey, stiff, pressed. Not the regular maid’s uniform.

I frowned. “What’s this?”

“Your new assignment,” she said flatly. “You belong to the Alpha now.”

My stomach dropped. “What?”

She finally looked at me, eyes full of cruel satisfaction. “Congratulations, omega. You’re his personal maid.”

Personal maid. The words made no sense.

“He…he wants me?” I asked, confused, scared. “After last night?”

She smirked. “Guess he likes his toys alive.”

I swallowed hard, trying not to show the panic clawing at my chest. I didn’t even know what that meant, but I had a feeling it wasn’t good.

“Get dressed,” she ordered, turning toward the door. “He’s waiting.”

The door slammed before I could ask anything else.

For a long second, I just sat there. The room spun a little, my head pounding. Me? The Alpha’s personal maid?

This had to be a mistake.

But it wasn’t. Ten minutes later, I was being dragged through the hallways, my new uniform stiff against my sore skin. Every step echoed too loud. I could feel eyes on me, other servants pausing their work to stare. Whispering.

Their pity made me want to crawl into the floor.

The head maid didn’t say a word the entire walk. When we reached the Alpha’s wing, the air changed. It was colder. Quieter. Every door looked heavier, like it hid something dangerous behind it.

She stopped in front of the last door, double doors made of dark oak.

“Go in,” she said.

I hesitated. “He’s… in there?”

“Yes.”

My pulse picked up. I wanted to turn back, but she grabbed my arm and shoved me forward. I stumbled, caught myself against the door.

“Don’t make him wait,” she hissed, then left.

I stood there for a few seconds, trying to breathe. My palms were slick with sweat. My heart wouldn’t slow down.

Then, slowly, I pushed the door open.

And there he was.

Agora.

Standing near the window, back turned, his black shirt rolled up to the elbows, sleeves tight around his forearms. Even from here, I could see the tension in his shoulders.

He didn’t look at me when he spoke.

“Close the door.”

His voice. Calm, deep, but it filled the whole room.

I obeyed quickly, shutting the door behind me. My hands shook.

Then… “Come here.”

My feet felt heavy, but they moved. Step after step until I was close enough to see the reflection of his eyes in the glass.

“From today,” he said quietly, “you work here. You clean what I tell you to clean. You speak only when spoken to. Understand?”

“Yes, Alpha.” My voice barely came out.

He finally turned.

And it was worse than I expected. His face was calm, almost unreadable, but his eyes, gods, those eyes. Still red. Dimmer than last night, but not human. Not warm.

He looked me over once. Not in a way that felt… indecent. More like he was cataloguing everything wrong with me.

“You disobeyed me,” he said.

I nodded quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

“Don’t explain.” His tone cut me off instantly. “You’re not here to talk.”

My throat went dry. “Yes, Alpha.”

He walked past me then, slow, deliberate. His presence made the air heavier. “You’ll start by cleaning my chambers,” he said. “Everything. I want no trace of dust.”

“Now?”

He stopped. Turned his head slightly. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

“No, Alpha.”

“Then start.”

I moved fast, though my legs were shaking. I grabbed a cloth and a bucket from the corner. My fingers trembled as I dipped the cloth into the water, wrung it out, and dropped to my knees.

Every sound I made, the splash of water, the creak of the bucket, echoed through the silence. I could feel his eyes on me, even when I wasn’t looking.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t move much. Just watched.

The tension made my skin crawl.

The water in the bucket rippled.

Then, a sharp, burning pain shot across my wrist. I gasped, dropping the cloth. I looked down.

There, faint but glowing, a mark. A red, twisting symbol curling across my skin, the same hue as his eyes.

I stared, wide-eyed, unable to breathe.

“Alpha…” My voice cracked. “What is this?”

That got his attention.

He turned slowly, eyes narrowing as they fell on my wrist. The corner of his mouth curved, not a smile, something darker.

When he stopped in front of me, I could feel his heat, smell the faint trace of cedar and smoke clinging to his skin.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against my wrist. The contact made the mark pulse brighter.

“Good,” he murmured, voice low, almost approving. “It worked.”

My stomach flipped. “What worked?”

He looked down at me, eyes glowing faintly. “The bond.”

I shook my head, panicked. “No…I…I didn’t agree to anything…”

“You don’t need to agree,” he said, cutting me off again. “You’re mine now.”

My breath caught. “What?”

“Not in the way you think,” he said, tone unreadable. “The mark ensures obedience. Protection. You won’t die unless I want you to.”

I stared at him, heart pounding. “You marked me?”

He didn’t answer. Just turned away, walking back to his desk like he hadn’t just changed my life with a single sentence.