Ariana’s POV
“Miss Ariana.” A maid’s cautious voice pulled me from my daze.
She had been moving in and out of the room for the past three hours I’d been sitting there, silently wallowing in my thoughts.
“Alpha Marco has insisted I take you to the clinic for further care. Dinner is also ready… and your bath is being prepared,” she added, listing my options like a report.
“I’m not hungry,” I replied flatly.
“Okay, Miss Ariana. Please let me help you up. Alpha Marco said he wouldn’t like it if you remained here all night.”
“Of course he wouldn’t,” I spat under my breath, pushing off the chair. “Alright then—let’s go to my new jail room.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Ariana,” the maid murmured, trying to soften my anger with pity.
After being escorted to the clinic, another nurse-maid met us at t
