He called me fat....I stole his uncle のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

Denver.I had followed her without being seen, moments after she left my room.Old habits. Old instincts. Something told me Christopher might want to get back at her, and I was not about to let that happen.When she first entered her room, I thought my concerns were unfounded for a moment, until I heard his voice.Christopher was already inside.I stopped just short of the doorway, my presence swallowed by the dim corridor, and I listened to their banter for a while.Christopher sounds arrogant, as always. Painting himself as the victim when he should be apologizing, the audacity.He accuses. He points. His voice rises, sharp with wounded pride. He tries to cajole her into a lie he has already framed in his head.Selena does not shrink.And even though I cannot see them, it is obvious she is done taking his bullshit.That alone tells me more than a hundred whispered reports ever could.Her voice is steady and unapologetic. Controlled. Not submissive. She is like a little fireball wait

Denver.The door closes behind her with a soft sound that lingers longer than it should.I remain where I am, my gaze fixed on the grain of the desk, a copy of the contract still lying open where I placed it. I do not move. I do not exhale. Years of command have taught me how to sit with decisions without flinching, but this one settles differently in my chest. Heavier.She did not run.Most women would have. Most would have recoiled from the terms, from the coldness of it, from the way I reduced something sacred to ink and obligation.That alone tells me more than I expected.My fingers curl around the edge of the desk, knuckles whitening. I hate that her choice unsettles me. I hate that it does not. My wolf stirs beneath the surface, restless, recognizing something I refuse to name.She had listened. She asked questions. She weighed the cost. That is not the behavior of a frightened omega. That is the behavior of a woman who has learned that survival requires clarity.I move to the

Selena.Christopher didn’t shout.That was what frightened me most.His smile was thin, almost calm, as if he had already decided what would happen next and no longer needed my consent.“You think refusing me makes you brave,” he said softly. “I should teach you what defiance costs.”My stomach dropped.“You forget your place far too easily,” he continued. “And lessons like this are best taught where no one can interfere.”I didn’t respond. I refused to give him that satisfaction.He turned toward the door. “Take her,” he ordered. “To the dungeon.”The word landed like a sentence.For a moment, I waited for someone to object. For hesitation. For mercy.None came.The guards stepped forward, one on each side of me. Their grips were firm but not rough, as if this were routine. Like I was already forgotten.Christopher leaned closer as they took hold of my arms.“Not even my uncle would notice if you disappeared for a few hours,” he murmured. “Remember that.”Then he stepped back, alread

Selena.They returned me to my room without ceremony.No apology. No explanation. Just a pair of guards walking me back through halls I knew too well, their footsteps echoing as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. As if I had not been locked away beneath the ground and forgotten.The door closed behind me with a soft click.I stood there for a long moment, my hand still resting on the handle, listening to my own breathing. The room looked the same as I had left it. The bed was neatly made. The curtains are half-drawn. The quiet was almost mocking in its normalcy.I went to the bath first.The water steamed as it filled the tub, the sound steady and grounding. I undressed slowly, every movement careful, as if my body needed reassurance that it was safe now. When I lowered myself into the water, the heat sank into my skin, easing the stiffness from my muscles.I scrubbed until my arms ached.Until the smell of damp stone and cold iron faded.Until the dungeon loosened its grip

Selena.The courtyard was quiet, but it did not feel peaceful.People moved around us, servants and guards and pack members preparing for departure, but the air felt tight. Heavy. Like something was waiting to happen.I stood beside the hall, my hands folded in front of me, trying to keep my breathing steady.Then I heard my mother’s voice.“Selena.”I turned.Both of my parents were walking toward me. My mother’s face was tight with emotion. My father’s jaw was set, his expression hard and wounded.For a moment, I felt like a child again.Small.Uncertain.Caught between fear and duty.My mother reached me first.“How could you do this?” she asked. Her voice shook. “How could you leave us like this?”My father spoke next, his voice low and heavy. “Do you have any idea what this will do to us? To our standing? To our name?”My chest tightened.“I did not abandon you,” I said quietly. “I had no choice.”My mother shook her head. “You always have a choice. You just chose yourself over y