Chapter 1: Moon Goddess, Please Take Me Away From This Wretched And Miserable World!
Avery
Ice water crashed over my bed, jerking me from another nightmare-filled sleep. My body seized from the shock, my vision going dark as I gasped for breath. For a terrifying moment, everything went silent except for the high-pitched ringing in my ears.
"You really thought you could sleep in, you little bitch?"
Before I could even process what was happening, fingers tangled in my hair, yanking me from my soaked mattress and throwing me to the cold concrete floor. My head smacked against the ground, sending stars across my vision.
Eva stood over me, her petite frame somehow looming large in the dim light of the slave quarters.
Perfect makeup highlighted her doll-like features, her tiny red dress already prepared for the day ahead. The look of disgust on her face was one I knew all too well.
"You don't deserve peaceful sleep," she spat, digging the pointed toe of her stiletto into my ribs. "Not after killing your own parents. God, you're pathetic."
I lay there like a slab of meat, waiting for the inevitable. Eva crouched down, her manicured nails scraping across my exposed skin as she violently ripped at my already threadbare shirt.
"Let's see how you try to seduce Kevin with these," she hissed, her sharp nails digging into the flesh of my nipples, breaking the skin. Blood welled up around her fingertips as she dragged them down. "I'll destroy these fucking tits. Then we'll see if you still think you're his mate."
The pain was excruciating, but I didn't cry out. I'd learned long ago that showing pain only made everything worse. Instead, I closed my eyes, hoping to find some escape in the darkness behind my eyelids. My tears had dried up months ago.
My body felt frighteningly weak beneath her assault. Each blow sent waves of dizziness through me, and I wondered if this time might be the end. Was I gonna die? I felt myself slipping toward unconsciousness, floating at the edge of awareness.
An eternity later, the blows stopped. Eva's footsteps echoed as she walked away, satisfied with her morning ritual. I forced my eyes open, immediately locking gazes with a passing servant girl.
The revulsion on her face was unmistakable as she quickly looked away and hurried past.
I lay in a heap on the floor, my shirt hanging in tatters around me, exposing skin even my nipples mottled with fresh bruises layered atop older ones in varying shades of purple, green, and yellow.
Not an inch of my body remained unmarked by Eva's regular "attention."
Closing my eyes again, I refused to acknowledge the servants passing by. They wouldn't help. Nobody ever did. As if this kind of humiliating behavior was normal and common.
With trembling arms, I pushed myself up from the ground, nearly collapsing again as my muscles screamed in protest. I couldn't afford to rest, not even for a minute. If I failed to complete my chores, what awaited would be far worse than Eva's morning greeting.
I stumbled to the single wooden chest that contained my only other shirt—equally worn but at least not soaking wet and torn to shreds. As I changed, I nervously glanced around the room.
The other slaves continued their morning routines, faces carefully blank. This scene played out nearly every day. No one had the energy or will to care anymore.
Our quarters were barely habitable—a damp, moldy basement with cracked walls where weeds pushed through in places. Insects skittered across the floor, drawn to the perpetual dampness.
Each slave had just a thin wooden plank raised slightly off the ground as a bed, with threadbare blankets that did almost nothing against the constant chill. Mine was even thinner than the others, thanks to Eva's special treatment.
A single ray of sunlight managed to penetrate our underground prison through a tiny window near the ceiling. By some miracle, it fell directly across my face, offering a momentary warmth that felt like the gentlest touch. I closed my eyes, savoring the brief respite.
If only last month hadn't happened that...
Flash Back: One Month Before
The night air was cool against my skin as I finished scrubbing the last of the kitchen floors. My muscles ached from another endless day of labor, but something made me pause as I dumped the dirty water outside.
A scent.
I'd never smelled anything like it before—sweet vanilla mingled with something earthier, like sun-warmed grass. The aroma tugged at something deep inside me, drawing me forward despite my exhaustion.
I followed it, step by hesitant step, away from the compound and toward the edge of the forest.
The trees loomed dark and mysterious, their branches creating intricate patterns against the starlit sky. The scent grew stronger, pulling me deeper into the woods.
My heart pounded in my chest. I'd overheard the other servants whispering about this—how when you meet your true mate, you detect a unique, intoxicating scent that no one else can quite describe. Some smelled vanilla, others lavender, still others the rich earthiness of forest soil.
Could this be happening to me? My face flushed hot with excitement and hope. I didn't have a wolf—how could I possibly have a mate? But the scent was undeniable, growing stronger with each step I took.
As I moved deeper into the forest, following that irresistible trail, a strange sensation began to build in my chest. At first, it was just warmth, but it quickly transformed into something else—something painful. A burning ache spread from my heart outward, as though someone had thrust a hot poker through my ribs.
The closer I got to the source of the scent, the more intense the pain became. It felt like a wolf was tearing through my chest cavity, shredding everything in its path. Was this normal? Was this what finding your mate felt like?
My steps grew smaller, more hesitant. I pressed a hand against a nearby tree, its rough bark cool against my burning skin, providing momentary relief.
Dizzy and disoriented, I clutched my chest with one hand while using the other to steady myself against the trees as I continued forward. The forest was eerily quiet, until it wasn't.
A woman's moan broke the silence, followed by a deep, masculine growl.
Had I imagined it? The pain in my chest was making it hard to think clearly.