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1074 Words
Sore and bruised, I wince randomly, limping, as I try to keep up with the female soldier who dashes towards the large main door.
I become a spectacle when all eyes in the hall feast on my wounds and my disorganized appearance. I'm certain they think I'm a thief who was beaten up for stealing.
A lady in white walks in a tentative manner, her dull brown eyes barely blinking; she meets Alpha Draven with a smile, but he steps around her and stomps off.
Her smile contorts to worry as she looks in my direction. “Rain, are you hurting someone again?” Her angelic voice is melodious.
“She deserves even worse.” Rain continues to drag me further, but the lady grabbed the rope.
“That's enough now.” She gropes her hands along the rope until she touches my bound wrists.
Rain sighs in anger and lets go of the rope. “Don't think I'm done with you.”
The lady chuckles softly and looks at me with those eyes that see nothing. “Forgive my sister,” she says. “She can be hotheaded like her brother sometimes.”
I smile softly even though my heart is tightening at how Rain treated me and how Alpha Draven acted oblivious to my suffering.
“Ah, ah.” I hiss in pain as she begins to untie the tightrope. My hands are cold and pale as the tight knot restrains blood flow, and when she's done untying them, I find out my wrists are very bruised and red. None of these would have happened if I'd ignored the urge to steal the antidote.
Her face crumples as she looks at my hand.
Before she gets to comment on the bruises, I say weakly, breathing heavily. “Water. I need water.”
My eyes are barely open when she orders a soldier on guard to take me to a small chamber upstairs and tells a maid to bring a cup of water along.
After he places me on the mattress, the lady sits next to my feet and helps me out of my ripped shoes, revealing my swollen feet when the maid arrives. I snatch the water from her, and some spills in the process. I tilt my head back and empty the cup at once; the cold sensation on my tongue down to my stomach revives me a little.
Panting, I thank the kind lady when I feel the maid's intent gaze on me. I give her a quick glance, but she inclines her head, avoiding my gaze.
“Rest up.” The lady places her hand on my knee before turning to the maid. “Get her some food and medicine.”
The maid leaves with the kind lady, who seems very nice to a stranger she barely knows.
“My lady.” A familiar voice calls and jerks me gently, trying to wake me from my slumber. “It's me, my lady.”
I turn to face her. Slowly, my vision becomes vivid, and I quickly sit up, excited to see Edith, my maid.
“My lady.” She begins to sob as she hugs me. “Why are you here?”
I hug her back, sobbing too, and begin to pat her back gently to calm her. “Is it really true…” I heave a breath, advertently delaying the question, for I'm scared of what might be her reply. “Is it really true Clotilda is dead?”
Edith cries out, nodding over my shoulder. I hug her tight, tears streaming down my face.
Edith and Clotilda are both my handmaids. Since every noble she-wolf is sent off on a marriage leave with a handmaid, Father instructed Edith to accompany Clotilda.
Cleaning her tears, she breaks the hug and goes on her knees and picks up a tray of food. “You look tired. You should eat.”
“Put that away.” I clean my tears. “Tell me everything Clotilda went through. Did he hurt her?”
“No,” she mutters and sits on the mattress. “He was nice. He cared a lot, but he…” She looks at the door and leans closer, her voice barely leaving her lips. “He had an affair with the blind she-wolf, and that made Clotilda hurt a lot.”
I hunch over and whisper softly, “Do you think the blind lady killed Clotilda out of jealousy?”
She shakes her head. “Lady Cecilia is an angel. She will never hurt Clotilda.” She resumes crying. “Clotilda couldn't stop talking about his affairs even the night she died.”
“Were you with her when she died?”
She shakes her head. “She died in his chamber.” Her voice is low with sadness. “A servant told me his other five mates died the same way, in his chamber.”
Sadness weighs heavily on my heart at the death of those innocent she-wolves. Only if their families had an option or an idea as Father did, they would have been alive, hiding in their castles. I scoff softly, remembering Father's idea was selfish, which I'm currently paying for.
“Do you think this is some sort of revenge?” Edith asks, invading my perturbing thoughts.
“What?”
“I mean, each of the noble she-wolves he married comes from the six-pack that coalesced into one to kill him. I think he's on a revenge spree.” She places her hand on my shin. “Never let him know you're Alpha Godric's daughter.”
“He knows,” I say softly and lean against the wall, remembering the deal to pleasure him, and wonder if I'm going to die in the process. “That's why I'm here.”
“Only if Clotilda had seen the next day, then she would have known his weakness,” she says. “He promised to tell her the next day, but she died before morning.”
My eyes widen in disbelief even though I've always had a feeling he has a weakness. Everyone has to die at some point, including Alpha Draven. Now it's confirmed he has a weakness; the next step is to know what exactly his weakness is before moving on to the next, which is his fall.
But first, I need to prioritize Father's health by learning ways to please Alpha Draven.
- Writer
