Chapter 4 — Maya’s suffering Begins
998 Words
The morning sun spilled over the city rooftops, gilding cobblestones in soft gold. The streets below bustled with merchants and townsfolk, but inside Darian’s mansion, a different life unfolded—one filled with cold orders, whispered cruelty, and the silence of fear.
Maya, barely ten years old, moved through the kitchen with quiet precision, scrubbing dishes that never seemed to end. Her dark blonde hair was tied back neatly, her soft gray eyes downcast to avoid the gaze of her stepmother, Selena.
“Faster, girl!” Selena’s voice cut sharply across the marble hall. “Do you think I have all day to wait for a useless child to clean? Move!”
“Yes… Stepmother,” Maya whispered, bowing her head, her stomach twisting with fear.
Velyra, her step-sister, lounged lazily on a velvet chaise nearby, her three female minions—Tressa, Cyria, Feyna—and Morrick, the male enforcer, flanking her like loyal guards.
“Look at her,” Velyra sneered, flicking a strand of hair from her shoulder. “She thinks she belongs here. She is nothing but dirt beneath our feet.”
“She’s slow,” Feyna added, smirking as Maya scraped the last plate clean.
“You call that clean?” Morrick crossed his arms, scowling. “I’d expect better from a child who thinks she’s human enough to walk in our home.”
Tressa leaned forward, eyes sharp and cold. “Perhaps we should teach her what happens to those who disobey.”
Cyria giggled, whispering into Velyra’s ear. “She can’t even carry herself with dignity. Should I trip her next time she walks through the hall?”
Velyra’s laughter was sharp and cruel. “Do it. Let her taste what it means to be lower than everyone else. Let her learn her place before she gets too bold.”
Maya’s hands shook, but she did not stop. She had learned long ago that showing fear or anger would only invite more cruelty. Instead, she buried herself in the work, silent tears tracing lines down her cheeks.
Selena stepped closer, voice soft but venomous. “You will learn to obey, girl. One day, you will thank me… or you will break trying. And if you break… I will enjoy watching.”
“Yes… Stepmother,” Maya whispered, voice barely above a whisper, though her stomach twisted in pain.
From the study above, Darian, her father, was oblivious. Wealth, power, and reputation filled his life, but he did not notice the girl who carried half of Lunaria’s blood. She was invisible, a shadow, a nuisance.
“She is not worthy of my attention,” he muttered to himself. “The world rewards strength. She… she is weak. She will never survive.”
Maya had learned to live in shadows, moving unseen, speaking softly, and bearing the weight of cruelty no child should endure. Each insult, each shove, each harsh word only forged steel within her. Though her body ached and her spirit was battered, a spark remained—small, fragile, but unbroken.
And Aziria, silent and unseen, prowled the edges of the mansion, her white fur glowing faintly in the moonlight.
Patience, little one, she whispered in Maya’s mind. Endure. Learn. Grow. Your time will come.
Maya flinched as Velyra’s voice rang sharp again. “Get out of my way, freak,” Velyra hissed, shoving her lightly into the wall. “Maybe if I step on you enough, you’ll disappear.”
“Yes… Velyra,” Maya muttered, steadying herself. One day… one day I will rise. One day, no one will touch me like this.
Her childhood passed in silent misery. Step-sister and minions tormented her without mercy. Step-mother scorned her at every opportunity. Her father ignored her entirely.
But the spark inside her remained alive. Every act of cruelty, every insult, every command she obeyed forged her into something stronger. Deep within, the blood of Lunaria pulsed quietly, waiting, watching, preparing for the day she would awaken.
And then Aziria made her decision. After ensuring Lunaria’s death was mourned in secrecy and that Maya was safe for the moment, she knew her place was not only beside the child but also to report to the Moon itself.
With a graceful leap, Aziria moved to the balcony, the city lights stretching below like scattered gold and silver. She inhaled the cool night air and then lifted off, her white form glowing brighter and brighter, soaring above rooftops, streets, and the sleeping city.
When she reached the Moon, the council of Moon Goddess Wolves waited, their forms radiant, their expressions grave.
“Report, Aziria,” one of the council elders intoned.
“Goddesses… tragedy has struck,” Aziria said, bowing low. “Lunaria has passed. Darian has betrayed her. Selena has taken control of him. The child… Maya… lives, but she is untrained, unaware of the power she carries.”
A murmur spread across the council. “The Moon Goddess blood… it still flows?” another asked, eyes narrowing.
“Yes,” Aziria said. “But she is vulnerable. She will need guidance… protection… and time. She will awaken when the time is right, at eighteen.”
“She is our hope,” Aziria continued. “The daughter of Lunaria. The blood of the Moon still courses through her veins. I will remain on Earth to guide her, to protect her… and to ensure she awakens when the time comes.”
The council nodded solemnly. “So it shall be. Her destiny is entwined with the Moon… and the Alpha who awaits her.”
Aziria bowed once more, feeling the gravity of her promise. Then, with a powerful leap, she descended back to Earth, her heart heavy but resolute.
Maya’s journey had begun. Every trial, every hardship, every insult, and every shadow of cruelty would shape her into the Moon Goddess Wolf she was destined to become. And deep within, a quiet spark of power pulsed, waiting for the moment it could finally ignite.
- Writer
