I left his room with my head down, the bucket of dirty water splashing against my leg as I carried it out. My fingers trembled around the handle, but it wasn’t from exhaustion anymore.
It was from confusion.
From the way Lucian had looked at .
From the way he hadn’t ordered out.
From the way his gaze had lingered—not with kindness, not even cruelty—but sothing... else.
I didn’t understand it.
And honestly, I didn’t want to.
I just wanted to get through the day without another scar.
But apparently, even that was too much to ask.
Because the mont I turned the corner, she was there—the oga maid who had sent into his room.
Her eyes blazed like fire, and before I could react, she spat at my feet.
"You filthy whore."
I froze.
She stalked toward , seething. "You were supposed to be punished! What did you do to him? Huh? Spread your legs and beg for rcy?"
I said nothing.
Not because I agreed.
But because I knew what she was trying to do.
"I told you to clean," she sneered, "so he’d see what a filthy, disobedient slave you are. But you—" she pointed a shaking finger at "—you ca out untouched. Why?"
I looked up at her then, and sothing in snapped. I was really tired of all these little tricks—first that oga head maid, and now this oga maid. Can’t they really leave alone?
I didn’t answer her. I didn’t want to. I was already in a bad mood because of Lucian. How could he see that way—twist everything into sothing so cruel and disgusting? My heart felt like it was breaking into pieces with every harsh word he threw at .
I won’t lie—there was a ti he was my little crush. And even now, sowhere deep inside, I had foolishly hoped he wouldn’t be so cruel. That maybe... just maybe, he’d show a little rcy.
But I was wrong. So, so wrong.
Suddenly my silence made the oga maid angrier. She stepped forward, lifting her hand.
I saw the slap coming. But I didn’t flinch.
But this ti...
I caught it.
Her wrist stopped mid-air, locked in my grip. Her eyes widened in shock.
And mine—mine were so calm. Cold and Unmoving.
"Let go," she hissed.
"You shouldn’t have touched ," I said softly.
Even if I wore the slave mark... even if I slept on a moldy floor and ate scraps...
My blood was still Alpha blood. I would never accept a slap just for the petty sche of a lowly oga maid.
The strength in my hand hadn’t gone anywhere. They could brand . Beat and humiliate .
But they couldn’t take who I was.
The maid yanked back, but I held her tight.
"You think you’re still better than us?" she spat. "You think you’ll charm the Alphas like your murdering father did?"
Before I could react, her voice rose into a shriek.
"Help! She’s attacking ! Soone—help! She grabbed !"
Heavy footsteps ca fast.
And then I saw her—the older head maid, with a face full of bitter lines and eyes that only saw what they wanted to.
"What is going on here?" she barked.
The younger maid instantly pulled free and dropped to her knees, fake tears rolling down her cheeks.
"She went into the Alpha’s private chambers without permission!" she sobbed. "She disrespected the command! I tried to stop her, and she tried to hit !"
My lips parted.
"No—I didn’t—she’s lying! She sent in there herself!"
But the head maid wasn’t listening. She’d already decided.
Her eyes narrowed in disgust.
"You dare raise your hand against a working oga?" she snapped. "You forget your place, branded slave."
"I didn’t—"
"Drag her," she ordered.
The guards by the door didn’t hesitate. Two ogas stepped forward to grab .
And I panicked.
"No—don’t—I tries to explain myself that I was only defending...but"
They yanked by the arm, dragging down the hallway.
I twisted, kicked, and tries to free myself.
But the laughter ca anyway. From the maids. From others watching the new drama unfolding...
"She still thinks she’s sothing."
"She probably thinks the Alphas care."
"Maybe we should teach her what a real slave is."
My knees scraped stone. My elbow banged into the wall.
We reached the servant quarters.
They threw into the middle of the open space, surrounded by other workers. The head maid stepped forward, her voice loud.
"For attacking another oga, you’ll be punished in front of the staff. Maybe that’ll remind you what you are."
She raised her hand.
And I saw red. Because first of all i did not raise my hand, I only defended myself.
The head maid stepped forward, her expression twisted with righteous anger, her hand already halfway raised.
She wanted to humiliate in front of everyone. She wanted to bow, to cry and to break in front of everyone.
But what she didn’t know... was that I already knew this ga.
These tricks, these setups, these staged punishnts—I’d seen them all before. I’d lived them. I knew how they worked. If you submit once, they think they’ve won. If you lower your head, they make you kiss their boots next.
The weaker you look, the bolder they beco.
Bullies don’t stop because they’ve made their point. They stop when you show them you’re not worth the risk anymore.
And I was done being the easy target. I have already learned this in past. I had already made that mistake once... and the cost of it had nearly broken .
Not again.
I wasn’t going to let history repeat itself.
So when her hand ca flying toward my face, I moved.
My fingers shot up and caught her wrist mid-air with a sharp, precise grip.
Gasps echoed around the room. Even the guards paused.
The head maid’s eyes widened, her mouth parting in pure disbelief.
I stood slowly, tightening my hold on her wrist, my expression calm enough to send a shiver down her spine.
"You shouldn’t have touched ," I repeated again.
She gasped, trying to pull back—but I twisted hard and flung her across the dirt. The gasps from the other servants were loud.
"Did she—?"
"She just threw the head maid!"
"She’s lost it!"
"She’s going to be executed!"
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