Chapter 9: A Silent Suffering

Evelyn’s POV

My constant companion was pain.

The silent wounds that festered inside of me were far worse than the bruises, aching muscles, and cuts on my hands from cleaning floors.

The pack had made their choice.

They had turned against me.

It wasn’t just whispers anymore. It was open hostility.

The Weight of Hatred

I recoiled when someone spat at my feet for the first time.

I made myself keep walking the second time.

I learned not to react at all by the third time.

I was no longer one of them.

I was not the Luna, Evelyn Grayson.

I was merely an embarrassment.

And shame was deserving of punishment.

That lesson came to me the hard way.

I heard a familiar voice behind me as I was carrying two heavy buckets of water back from the well.

"Slave, move more quickly."

I tensed up.

Paxton.

He was once among Kieran's most reliable fighters.  Once, after a battle, I had spoken to him kindly and healed his wounds.

There was nothing but disdain in his voice now.

I continued to walk.

However, he kicked one of the buckets out of my hands before I could move forward.

The water soaked me in the cold as it splashed all over my legs.

The warriors assembled around them burst out laughing.

Paxton leaned closer, his tone mocking and low.  "Evelyn, you should feel thankful.  We're letting you live, at least.

I balled my fists up.

I felt like screaming.  to combat.  To remind them that I used to be their protector, their Luna.

However, what would it accomplish?

I was by myself.

Nobody would stand up for me.

Not even Kieran.

I swallowed my pride, picked up the bucket, and continued to walk.

Back to the servant quarters, I could hear the laughter.

The days of Luna's Blood went by.

The mistreatment escalated.

Insults were the first thing said.

After that, there were the shoves and intentional "accidents" where I tripped or had trays knocked out of my hands.

Then—

Then the blood appeared.

Late at night, it took place in the kitchen.

Someone caught me by the wrist while I was doing the dishes.

Calm down.

Her eyes gleamed with cruel delight as she pulled me closer, her nails digging into my skin.

She picked up a knife from the counter and muttered, "Oops."  "I believe you missed something."

She pressed the blade against my palm and sliced before I could react.

My arm began to sting and ache sharply.

She held me in place while I gasped and jerked back, watching with sick satisfaction as blood spilled onto the floor.

"I wonder how long it will be before Kieran completely forgets you exist," she thought.

Refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response, I bit the inside of my cheek.

She let go of me with a sigh.  "Evelyn, you're no fun anymore."

She turned and walked out of the kitchen, humming to herself, while I held my bleeding hand and stared at her.

The room whirled.

I tried to stop the bleeding by pressing my palm against my apron.

It was not a deep wound.

However, the message was unambiguous.

Their goal was to shatter me.

They desired my disappearance.

And if I didn't

They would see to it that I did.

A Fatal Meeting

I was lying on my cot in the servant quarters that night when I sensed a change in myself.

I was finished.

The humiliation is over.

The pain is over.

They would kill me if I stayed.

Not today, perhaps.  Not tomorrow, perhaps.

But in the end, all I would be would be a forgotten body in the forest.

I had to get away.

Where I went didn't matter to me.

All I had to do was run.

But the door creaked open as I lay there, making plans to get out.

I went cold.

A shadow entered the space.

I stiffened, anticipating yet another nasty tormentor.

However, then—

“Get up,” a familiar voice murmured.  Immediately.

I gasped.

Cedric.

Kieran's beta.

One of the few individuals I used to trust.

He took hold of my arm and dragged me to my feet.  "We're running out of time."

I gaped at him in disbelief.

"What—?"

He growled, "No time for questions."  "Want to pass away here?"

I took a deep breath.

I then gave a nod.

He didn't waste any more time.

With each step we took into the night, my heart was racing.

I felt something besides pain for the first time in weeks.

I had hope.

However, as we got closer to the boundary of the area—

A deep, angry growl broke the stillness.

My blood ran cold as I turned.

Kieran.

His wolf was hardly restrained, and his eyes were burning with rage.

And in that moment, I knew—

I had just signed my death sentence.