Mated To My Bullies

Chapter 23: When the Bond Shattered

Maya's POV

Everything I never was and never could have been. The words hurt, but they were probably true. I turned away and went back to washing dishes, trying to focus on the mechanical task instead of the conversation in the dining room.

The dinner lasted until nearly midnight. By the time I finished cleaning the kitchen and washing the last plate, I was exhausted and my hands were raw from the harsh soap. All I wanted was to collapse on my thin mattress and sleep until Mrs. Harrow woke us for another day of invisible servitude.

But as I made my way through the castle's corridors, I realized I'd left my cleaning supplies in the main hall. If Mrs. Harrow found them there in the morning, she'd make my life even more miserable than it already was.

I trudged back through the darkened hallways, my footsteps echoing softly on the marble floors. The castle was quiet now, the guests gone, the family presumably asleep. I gathered my bucket and rags from where I'd left them near the main staircase, then started back toward the servants' quarters.

That's when I heard it. A soft laugh from upstairs, followed by a deeper voice murmuring something I couldn't make out. Then another laugh, this one breathless and intimate.

I should have kept walking. Should have minded my own business and gone to bed like a good servant. But something made me pause, made me look up toward the family's private quarters where a sliver of light was visible under one of the bedroom doors.

Stephen's room.

The voices grew clearer as I climbed the stairs, drawn by some masochistic need to understand what I was hearing.

"You were incredible tonight," Stephen's voice, warm and satisfied. "The way you handled Alpha Morrison's questions about the eastern territories... I've never seen such perfect diplomacy."

"I was raised for this," Seraphina replied, her voice soft and pleased. "My father made sure I understood pack politics from the time I was old enough to sit through council meetings."

"We're so lucky to have you."

There was a pause, then the sound of movement. A soft sigh. The creak of bedsprings.

I pressed myself against the wall outside Stephen's door, my heart hammering in my chest. Through the crack under the door, I could see shadows moving, two figures on the bed, silhouetted against the warm lamplight.

"Are you sure about this?" Seraphina asked, her voice slightly breathless. "I know we agreed to take things slowly..."

"I'm sure," Stephen replied. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

The mate bond, what little remained of it, exploded with agony so intense that I had to bite my hand to keep from crying out. Through that thin connection, I could feel Stephen's emotions, desire, affection, contentment, and something that might have been love. Not the desperate, overwhelming need he'd felt for me, but something deeper and more peaceful.

The shadows on the wall moved together, merged, separated, merged again. I heard Seraphina's soft gasp, Stephen's quiet groan, the rustle of sheets and whispered endearments too low for me to understand.

I should have left then. Should have run back to the servants' quarters and tried to forget what I was seeing. But I couldn't move. Couldn't look away from the light under the door, couldn't stop listening to the sounds of Stephen choosing Seraphina over me in the most final way possible.

They were gentle with each other, tender in a way that made my chest ache with memories of what I'd lost. This wasn't the rough, desperate claiming that had characterized my relationships with the brothers. This was love. Real, chosen, freely given love.

"I love you," Stephen whispered, his voice carrying clearly through the thin door.

"I love you too," Seraphina replied, and the mate bond shattered completely, leaving me gasping and empty and more alone than I'd ever been in my life.

I don't remember getting back to the servants' quarters. I don't remember lying down on my mattress or pulling the thin blanket over my shaking body. All I remember is the moment when the last thread connecting me to Stephen Blackwood snapped, leaving me with nothing but the echo of his voice saying words to another woman that he'd never said to me. I had thought I'd already lost everything. I was wrong."