Chapter 4: Hello Sister…
1704 Words
~Aquila~
“Snowflake, your food,” the maid snapped, slamming the tray against the bedside table with a loud thud.
Without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heels and stormed out.
Snowflake was the nickname I was given because of my pallid completion, as they called it.
A strange sight for the tanned healthy servants bustling about.
It’s been four months since I was brought here—and four months since that crazy night.
The morning after, I woke up to cold, empty sheets. He was gone. No message. No note. Nothing.
I looked down into the tiny bowl the maid had left. A pale, white, grainy mush—cold and congealed.
Gruel, basically. Nothing like the early days when Alpha Damon had just left. Back then, the meals were warm, extravagant. The maids smiled, bowed, flattered.
But as time passed and no word came from him, their attentiveness vanished. Their smiles turned to sneers.
Then silence. Meals arrived late. Sometimes not at all.
Today, a whole day had passed before this pitiful thing showed up.
I patted my growling stomach, expressionless, and shoved a spoonful into my mouth. It slid down my throat without a chew. Tasteless.
Voices drifted in from outside the door.
“Hope you gave Madame her food?”
“Yes, but honestly, this is getting old.”
“Didn’t you fight to serve her before?”
“Damn right I did. Gave away three years’ savings just to get this position. Thought she was the Alpha’s fated mate. Turns out she’s useless. What a waste.”
“You can’t be sure. The Alpha’s been out in the North. Things might change when he returns.”
“True... I guess I forgot about that.”
“But remember, it’s because of her that Aunt June’s in a coma. She abandoned her—left her to die.”
“Disgusting. Aunt June is a kind woman. I hope she wakes up soon.”
“Her mate hasn’t left her bedside since.”
The words faded, but my grip on the spoon didn’t. I was holding it so tightly, my knuckles turned white.
Aunt June.
The North.
Apparently, the woman who helped me escape—dragged me into that insane flight—was the head maid.
A kind, beloved woman. Everyone adored her. But when help finally arrived, she’d already lost too much blood. Slipped into a coma.
And somehow, they all believed I had abandoned her.
Damon never corrected them. Never spoke for me. Never asked after me. So the rumors flourished. That I was heartless. A traitor. Unworthy.
And Alpha Damon? Off to the North to suppress rabids wreaking havoc across villages.
Then, the door burst open. A servant ran in, panting.
“Snowflake— I mean Madame! The Alpha returns the day after tomorrow!”
The entire estate transformed within hours. Laughter echoed through the hallways.
Servants scurried, scrubbing and dusting every surface until the air sparkled. But I remained in my room, watching silently through the window.
On the day of his return, a few maids entered, dragging their feet.
“Have to make Madame look presentable,” the lead maid muttered bitterly. “Maybe I can still recoup some of the money I wasted.”
The next few hours were torture. They scrubbed me raw, painted my face in makeup so thick I barely recognized myself in the mirror.
Then, they pushed me outside under the blistering sun, with no shade, to wait.
My fingers gripped my dress as nerves churned in my belly.
A black car rolled to a stop. The door opened, and he stepped out.
Alpha Damon.
Broad shoulders. Crisp black suit. Short black hair. His presence still made my breath catch. He was the only familiar thing in this alien place.
But then—he turned.
Outstretched his hand.
Confused, I leaned forward.
A hand—slender and olive-toned—placed itself in his. A woman emerged.
She was… stunning. Dark brown waves, gleaming grey eyes, confidence radiating from her like sunlight.
She looped her arm through his, and when he looked at her, his entire face softened.
My stomach dropped.
They walked toward me. Hand in hand. Two against one.
“Alpha Damon, welcome back,” I murmured, my voice stiff. Words I had rehearsed again and again now felt dry and broken.
My gaze drifted to the woman beside him. Something about her was familiar. Eerily so.
And then it hit me.
When Damon finally spoke, it was with the coldness of a blade.
“I don’t need you anymore. You can leave.” He glanced at the woman beside him. “Let me introduce you to my new love—Mira.”
The name punched the air from my lungs.
Mira. My sister. No—no, she was dead.
Or… wasn’t she?
Blood drained from my face. Even the makeup couldn’t mask it.
Then, she smiled. Sickly sweet and… Poisonous.
“Hello, sister,” she said, voice dripping honey. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. We have so much to catch up on.”
She used to braid my hair and whisper that no one would ever hurt me as long as she was around. And now she stood beside my mate, her hand in his.
Her eyes were like ice, stabbing deep into my chest.
I couldn't remember what happened next. I don't even remeber how I left. My mind went blank, looping that moment over and over.
Damon’s eyes, icy with contempt.
And Mira alive returning after twelve years.
Like a discarded leaf in a storm, my world was flipped in a heartbeat. The soles of my feet felt frozen, my thoughts numbed.
Just then.
“Miss… are you alright?”
The voice broke through my haze.
A young man stood before me. A servant, judging by his plain clothes. His brows were furrowed in concern.
“I-I’m fine,” I whispered. Tears welled up. I blinked rapidly and forced a smile.
It was a random question. A generic concern.
But for some reason, it was the final nudge—and something inside me broke.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “You’re pale and shaking.”
“Am I?” I asked, stunned. I hadn’t even noticed.
“I think I'm just… tired… maybe,” I muttered, ‘I didn't even know at this point, as I tried to smile again.
“You should smile more often,” he said gently.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh—sorry. That was rude. I just… think you look more beautiful when you smile.” sheepishly he scratched the back of his neck, averting his gaze, but took a small step close me to.
Warmth rushed up my cheeks. No one had ever said that before.
Embarrassed, I looked down, playing with my fingers.
“I’m Serio” he started, “and i am serious when I said you look beauti—,” but choked on the words.
His face paled, eyes widened in horror, staring behind me.
My heart skipped a beat.
Something… someone was behind me and it was staring at me.
I turned.
And right behind me was Damon, standing there.
Lips pressed into a razor-thin line. One corner curved in a chilling smirk.
‘He wasn’t with Mira?’
His gaze was fixed on the space between Serio and me. Then, his eyes began to glow—red.
"I was wondering why you left," he sneered, voice low and threatening.
“Is this what you do now? Smile at every servant that passes by and pretend it means something? How fitting... for someone who couldn’t even save the woman who risked her life for her.”
“How did you— wait that's not true”
“What’s not true? That you flirt with servants Or you refused to save your own blood?”
He didn't give me the chance to refute his words, stalking toward me, fury pulsing in every step.
I stepped back, fear gripping me—but his arm shot out and yanked me forward. The world spun, His shoulder rammed into my stomach, and the air whooshed from my lungs.
Oh God.
Is he going to mate me again? Force the bond?
Or worse—punish me for something I didn’t even do?
Blood drained from my face. I gripped his shirt, desperate.
“Please, Damon—this is a mistake. I was wrong, I shouldn’t have walked away. Just listen—”
But he didn’t.
He turned to Serio, who was trembling on the floor.
"You want to be my mate’s little toy?” he snarled. “Her boy w***e? I can see your dirty little fantasies written all over your face.”
Leaving the shaking servant behind, Damon stormed through the hallway with me slung over his shoulder. The walls flew past, too familiar.
He stopped, hissed, “Damn it,” and punched the wall. It dented under the force.
I flinched.
Dread coiled in my gut.
“You think you can manipulate me with that bond?” he snapped. “You think I don’t see it? Every look. Every breath. Twisting my will. You disgust me.”
The room.
That room. Flicker of that night played in my head, the ripping pain.
“No, Damon—please. No.” I could do nothing but plead.
He threw me onto the bed.
I scrambled backward, my elbows burning as I tried to escape him.
Then, a spark of hope.
“You told me to leave!” I cried. “You said it was over. Don’t you want to be with my sister now?”
He froze.
A flicker of confusion crossed his face. But that hesitation was enough to ignite my hope.
“She’ll be hurt if she finds out what you’re doing,” I added quickly.
He leaned in, caging me with his arms. The heat was suffocating. His scent filled every breath.
The room stilled.
Only the sound of my ragged breathing.
And just when I thought he’d listen—
Just when I thought I was safe—
He whispered:
“No one— No one touches what belongs to me.”
- Writer
