CHAPTER FIVE

DELORA'S POV

Although I was a bit scared, I couldn't help it. I headed to the door and pushed it open, then took a slow step toward where the body lay.

My hands trembled as I reached out, brushing tangled strands of hair away from their face.

My stomach twisted. ''Wesley.'' I couldn't believe it.

His usually sharp eyes were dull, his face smeared with dirt and blood. His chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths. He was alive, but barely.

I pressed my fingers against his throat, searching for a stronger pulse. “Wesley,” I whispered urgently. “What happened? Who did this to you?”

His eyelids fluttered, his lips parting slightly, but his voice was so faint I had to lean in to hear it.

“…Coming…”

A chill ran down my spine. “Who’s coming?”

His fingers twitched as if trying to grip my arm, but he was too weak. He swallowed hard, forcing out another strained whisper.

“Run.”

The word barely left his lips before his body went limp. I froze, my own breath halting in my chest.

I had no idea about what he meant, and I didn't want to think about it either. Because I believed he was drunk. '' You may have bumped into something on your way back.''

''But where are the guards?'' I looked around but didn't find anyone.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced myself to move.  Wesley was unconscious now, his body slack.

Gritting my teeth, I slipped my arms beneath him and struggled to lift him. He was heavier than I expected, his limbs dragging against the dirt. My muscles strained, but I refused to let go.

Step by step, I hauled him toward the mansion.

The doors cracked as I pushed them open with my shoulder. Inside, the silence was suffocating. Well, I didn't expect anything less. Only Luther and I lived here. No servants, no guards. And now, Wesley.

I dragged him toward the nearest chamber, one that hadn’t yet fallen into complete ruin. The bed was old but sturdy. I eased him onto it, my arms trembling from the effort.

He groaned softly as his head hit the pillow, his brows twitching. Suddenly, his face began to turn pale, and my heart sank instantly.

I left him there and hurried to fetch water, wetting a cloth and pressing it against his bloodied forehead. Dirt and dried blood smeared onto the fabric, revealing fresh bruises beneath. It didn't appear to be just an accident, whoever had done this hadn’t just tried to kill him, they had made him suffer first.

I took off his torn shirt, to check for deeper wounds. My breath hitched. His chest and arms were covered in dark bruises from sharp claws, his ribs showing signs of impact.

''Who could've done this to him? And why did he run here, to me?'' I didn't give much thought to it.

I dipped the cloth into the water again, squeezing out the excess. Just as I reached to press it against his skin, his hand shot up, gripping my wrist.

My heart lurched. His fingers were weak but insistent. His lips parted, and in a voice barely above a whisper, he rasped. “You shouldn’t have brought me inside.”

Well, I had nothing to do and he couldn't help himself either.

A FEW DAYS LATER

Wesley left as soon as he got better. And I did my best to take care of Luther. Making sure his bedding was as comfortable as possible, though the worn-out sheets and thin mattress left much to be desired. Still, I tucked the blankets around him and ensured he was warm.

Feeding him was another challenge. At first, he barely responded, his lips barely parting to take in the liquid sustenance. But today was different. When I lifted the spoon to his lips, he swallowed without hesitation.

I smiled. “You’re getting stronger.”

His dull, hollow eyes shifted toward me. And then, for the first time, he spoke properly.

“Who are you?” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. However, my face crumbled as his words resonated in my ears.

I froze. “I am… I am the daughter of Alpha Otto.”

His gaze darkened, hard despite his weakness. There was a long silence between us before he let out a low, tired chuckle.

“Are you kidding me?''

My breath caught in my throat.

“I’ve seen Otto’s daughter before.” His voice was stronger now. “ Tell me the truth, or face the consequences of lying to me?''

I gulped down and clenched my fists. There was no use keeping up the facade.

Lowering my gaze, I confessed, “You’re right. I am not Alpha Otto’s daughter. I’m just a slave from his household.”

Luther’s expression darkened.  “Then what happened to her?”

I hesitated. “She… she passed away on the journey.”

His face softened, and for a moment, there was silence. “She killed herself, didn’t she?” He asked, but I didn't answer. I didn’t need to.

Luther let out a slow breath, his gaze drifting toward the ceiling. “So they sent me a slave instead.”

I straightened my back, determination rising within me. “I may be a slave, but I am yours now.”

He turned his head toward me, his dark eyes narrowing. “I don’t need a slave.”

“I don’t care,” I replied sternly. “I will serve you, whether you want me to or not.”

Luther’s jaw tightened. “You should leave while you still can.”

I shook my head. “I have nowhere to go. My entire life, I’ve been nothing but a servant, moving from one command to another. But here, with you, I have a purpose. Even if it’s just tending to you, at least I am needed.”

He exhaled sharply, frustration evident in the way his fingers twitched. “You are wasting your life.”

I met his gaze without flinching. “Then let it be wasted at your side.”

Luther’s lips parted, but no words came, his eyes burning in anger. Although I was scared, I reached for his hand, clasping it gently between my own.