Mated To My Bullies

Chapter 22: "The Servant's Life"

Maya's POV

The servant's quarters were worse than my cell had been. At least in the dungeon, I'd had my own space, even if it was tiny and cold. Now I shared a cramped room with three other servants, sleeping on a thin mattress on the floor while they whispered about me in the dark, calling me cursed and dangerous.

Mrs. Harrow woke us before dawn every morning with sharp commands and assignment lists. The other servants got normal duties, tending the gardens, cleaning the guest rooms, helping with meals. I got the jobs no one else wanted.

"Rodriguez," she snapped on my third morning as a servant, "you're on dungeon duty today. Empty the waste buckets, scrub the floors, bring meals to any prisoners we have."

The dungeons. They were making me clean the place where I'd been imprisoned, where I'd nearly died from silver poisoning. I wondered if that was Seraphina's idea or just cruel coincidence.

"Yes, ma'am," I said quietly, too tired to argue.

The work was backbreaking. My body was still weak from weeks of poison, and every task felt like climbing a mountain. Carrying heavy buckets up stone stairs left me gasping and dizzy. Scrubbing floors on my hands and knees made my vision blur. But I did it all without complaint, because complaining would only make things worse.

The worst part wasn't the physical labor, though. It was the way the brothers treated me now. Like I didn't exist.

The first time I encountered Stephen in the hallway, carrying a bucket of dirty water from the dungeons, I'd stopped and looked at him hopefully. Maybe now that the mating ceremony was over, now that he'd gotten what Seraphina said he wanted, maybe he could at least acknowledge me.

He walked right past me like I was invisible. Didn't even glance in my direction, even though I could smell his familiar scent and feel the faint, painful tug of what remained of our mate bond.

It was the same with all of them. Nathan passed me in the kitchen while I was scrubbing pots and acted like I was just another piece of furniture. Karl stepped around me in the main hall without a word while I was mopping the marble floors. Elijah actually had to squeeze past me in a narrow corridor when I was carrying laundry, and he pressed himself against the wall to avoid any contact, like I might contaminate him.

They spoke to me only when absolutely necessary, and then only to give orders.

"The fireplace in the north study needs cleaning," Nathan told me one afternoon, not looking at me as he delivered the message. His voice was flat, emotionless, like he was talking to a servant he'd never met before.

"Yes, sir," I replied, hoping he might react to the sound of my voice, might remember what we'd once been to each other.

He walked away without another word.

After two weeks of this treatment, I started to understand what Seraphina had meant about knowing my place. I wasn't Maya, former mate to the Blackwood brothers. I was just the servant girl who cleaned toilets and emptied garbage. I was furniture. Background noise. Nothing.

But it was the small moments that hurt the most. Watching Stephen laugh at something Seraphina said during breakfast while I scrubbed the floors around their feet. Seeing Nathan take Seraphina's hand as they walked through the garden while I hung laundry nearby. Overhearing Karl compliment Seraphina on her dress while I dusted shelves in the same room, invisible to both of them.

They were happy. Genuinely, completely happy in a way they'd never been with me. The constant tension that had surrounded our relationship was gone. They moved with easy confidence, smiled without strain, touched Seraphina with casual affection instead of the desperate need that had always marked their interactions with me.

Maybe Seraphina had been right. Maybe I really had been nothing but a chemical addiction that they were better off without.

The thought followed me through my days as I scrubbed floors, cleaned bathrooms, washed dishes, and did all the other jobs that kept me out of sight and out of mind. I was losing weight rapidly – partly from the hard labor, partly because my appetite had disappeared, and partly because I suspected my food was still being doctored with silver. Not enough to kill me quickly, but enough to keep me weak and manageable.

Three weeks into my new life, Mrs. Harrow assigned me to kitchen duty for a formal dinner party.

"We're hosting the leaders of three allied packs," she told me briskly. "Everything must be perfect. You'll be responsible for dish washing and cleanup. Stay out of sight, don't speak unless spoken to, and for the love of the Moon Goddess, don't do anything to embarrass this pack further."

The dinner was a success by all accounts. I watched from the kitchen doorway as Seraphina charmed the visiting alphas and their mates, discussing trade agreements and territory disputes with the confidence of someone born to leadership. She wore a stunning blue dress that brought out her eyes, and the brothers flanked her like devoted guards, clearly proud of their Luna.

"She's remarkable," I heard one of the visiting alphas tell Stephen. "You boys made an excellent choice. Much better than the rumors we'd been hearing about that other situation."

Stephen's smile was warm and genuine. "We couldn't be happier. Seraphina is everything we could have asked for in a Luna."