Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by his Brother Chapter 108: Pretty But Empty

The maids followed up the grand staircase gracefully, as if they weren’t the executioners escorting to my dressing room.

I could hear them whispering behind , low voices filled with malice and contempt.

"Imagine," one of them murmured, just loud enough for to catch it. "All this fuss over a cursed girl."

A soft giggle followed and I clenched my fists. I had totally lost all respect among everyone... be it maids or ordinary workers.

"Dressing her up won’t change a thing," another said. "She’s still an Oga. Still..." her voice dropped into sothing pitifully dramatic, "...cursed."

I ignored them. I had learned to do that.

But this morning, the words chewed at a little more than usual. Maybe it was because of Rosa. Or because of Father. Or because I knew I would have to stand beside my sisters—both of them gleaming and perfect while I... I would always be lesser.

We reached my room, and the mont the door shut behind us, the maids wasted no ti. They got down to business, their hands quick as they pulled out the dress my father had chosen for .

I barely had ti to glance at it before one of them—Marisa, I think, let out a little hum. "How generous of Don Diego," she mused, running her fingers over the luxurious fabric. "This must have cost a fortune. A sha it’s wasted on an Oga."

I clenched my jaw but remained silent.

The other maid, Inés, let out a mock sigh. "No matter how expensive the dress is, it won’t change the fact that she’s nothing. Even as a maid, I outrank her."

That one hit deeper than I wanted it to. A maid saying she outranked . I an, I had no business with power dynamics, but trying to drag down the dirt was so unnecessary.

I kept my voice calm. "You’re out of line."

Marisa smirked as she turned to . "Out of line?" she repeated, feigning innocence. "Forgive , señorita, but I wasn’t aware we had to respect soone with no wolf. What exactly are you demanding respect for?"

The words burned like a slow fire under my skin, but I refused to let them see how deep they cut. I wasn’t going to stand there and let two arrogant servants reduce to nothing—at least, not without a fight.

Axel had at least, taught that.

I straightened my spine and lifted my chin. "It’s wrong for you to stand here and gossip about like this. Just because I’m an Oga doesn’t an I don’t deserve respect. I am still one of the ladies of this house."

Marisa and Inés exchanged a look before bursting into laughter, the kind that made my skin prickle with humiliation.

Marisa clutched her stomach, laughing until tears strained out of her eyes. "Did you hear that, Inés? She’s demanding respect."

"From us?" Inés smirked, picking up the dress again and inspecting it like it was a cri that I would wear sothing so fine. "What exactly are we supposed to respect, María José? Your wolf? Oh, wait, you don’t have one."

I gritted my teeth. "That doesn’t an I’m any less a part of this family."

"Dios mío, she actually thinks she’s like her sisters." Marisa nudged Inés with an exaggerated gasp. "Like Señorita Camila, who has the Luna wolf. Like Señorita Rosalía, who will probably marry an Alpha one day." She turned back to , her eyes blazing with hatred. "And then there’s you. An Oga. Cursed. Tell , what exactly makes you think you belong in the sa category?"

I clenched my fists, trying hard to stay calm, but my stomach churned. I had spent the last month listening to whispers like these, but today, their words felt heavier and more overwhelming.

Axel’s lectures had emboldened and gave all the confidence to stand up for myself where low lives like these were concerned.

"It doesn’t matter what you think. I live in this house. I bear the sa last na. That alone demands a certain level of respect." I pointed out, jabbing a strand of hair behind my ear.

Inés raised an eyebrow. "Respect?" She scoffed. "We should respect you? After what happened to Juana?"

The na knocked the wind out of .

I held my breath. Juana.

A sudden weight settled in my chest, pressing against my ribs like a truck full of loads. I hadn’t heard her na spoken aloud in the past few days, and yet, just the sound of it was enough to unsettle .

The room felt colder.

Marisa slowly and cruelly. "You know, we really shouldn’t even be speaking to you. We wouldn’t want to end up cursed like Juana, would we, Inés?"

Inés made a show of shivering. "Ay no, imagine! Losing everything over so Oga’s bad luck."

Their words swam around , clawing at old wounds.

Juana had been the only one who was ever kind to . My best friend. She had brushed my hair, humd softly when I had trouble sleeping, snuck sweets into my pockets when she thought I looked too thin and Father had put on a diet.

And then...she was gone. Because of .

I forced myself to swallow the lump in my throat, but my voice had lost its strength. "That wasn’t my fault..."

Marisa humd in fake sympathy. "Maybe. But it doesn’t change the fact that Juana was fired because she got too close to you. Seems like a pattern, don’t you think?"

Inés shrugged. "I don’t bla her. Who would want to serve an Oga?"

That was it. The fight drained out of like water slipping through cupped hands.

I didn’t argue anymore. I didn’t have it in .

Axel, I’m sorry, I’m not a badass. I’m an emotional chicken who tears up at every hurtful word. I couldn’t help it... I was soft.

Instead, I let them do as they pleased; yanking at my arms, pulling at my hair with little care, shoving this way and that as they dressed like a doll.

They didn’t bother hiding their roughness. Every tug, every pinch, every scratch of a comb against my scalp was intentional as though they were silently punishing for existing.

By the ti they finished, I looked presentable, but I didn’t feel it.

I didn’t feel anything at all.

I kept my head down as they stepped back, admiring their work.

"You almost look pretty," Inés mused. "Pity it won’t change anything."

Marisa smirked. "Co on, let’s leave her to stare at herself. Not that it’ll make a difference."

They left, their laughter trailing behind them.

Only then did I allow myself to break down.

I turned to the mirror, my vision blurring as tears welled in my eyes.

Juana should have been here.

She would have told I looked beautiful. She would have braided my hair gently, spoken softly, and reminded that I was more than what they said I was.

But she was gone. Because of .

I let out a shaky breath, wiping my tears quickly before they could ruin my makeup. I wasn’t going to let them see break.

I squared my shoulders, inhaled deeply, and forced my feet toward the door.

I had to go downstairs.

I had to face them.