The Scorned Luna-Chapter 33: Spit On Him

Damien stood in the archway, his arms crossed over his broad chest. His eyes went straight to Matthew’s hand on Sofia’s wrist. The sight made a vein in his forehead pulse with fury. To him, this was the ultimate proof. His Beta, his best friend, was still interested in Sofia.

"Alpha," Martha squeaked, bowing even lower.

Matthew didn’t let go. He stepped forward, partially blocking Sofia with his body. "Damien, this is too much. She’s bleeding. You’re going to kill her before she even has a chance to serve her sentence."

Damien walked forward, his boots clicking like a death march on the very tiles Sofia had just scrubbed. He stopped inches from Matthew.

"I don’t remember asking for your opinion on how I manage my property, Matthew," Damien said, his voice low. He looked at Sofia, his gaze raking over her messy hair and her sweat-soaked uniform. "Does it feel good, Sofia? Having him defend you? Is this why you whispered his name?"

Sofia’s eyes went wide. She looked at Matthew, then at Damien, her head spinning. "I didn’t... I don’t..."

"Let her go," Damien ordered Matthew, his voice vibrating with the power of his Alpha command.

Matthew’s arm shook, fighting the biological urge to obey. Finally, he had to let go. Sofia felt the loss of his warmth and felt smaller than ever.

Damien grabbed the heavy bucket of dirty, grey water Sofia had spent hours filling. With a flick of his wrist, he dumped the entire thing out, flooding the floor she had just finished cleaning.

"It’s not clean enough," Damien said flatly. "Start over. And this time, Matthew, if I catch you in here again, you’ll be joining her on the floor."

Matthew’s fists were clenched so tight that his fingernails left marks in his palms. He looked like he wanted to strike his Alpha, his friend, but the weight of the command kept him frozen.

"Damien, look at her!" Matthew hissed, his voice trembling with frustration. "She can barely stand!"

"Then she can scrub while sitting," Damien replied, his voice devoid of any mercy. He didn’t look at Matthew; his eyes were locked on Sofia, watching for a reaction, wanting to see her break. "Get to work, Sofia. Unless you want the Beta to get punished for your laziness."

Sofia looked at the floor, then up at Damien. For the first time, the fear in her eyes was being replaced by a dull, dead look. She didn’t cry. She didn’t beg. With trembling limbs, she slowly sank back down into the dirty water. The cold liquid seeped into her skin, but she didn’t flinch.

She picked up the wooden brush. Scrub. Rinse. Repeat.

Matthew let out a sound of pure disgust. He shot one last, pained look at Sofia before spinning on his heel and storming out of the kitchen. He knew that staying would only make Damien’s wrath fall harder on her.

Damien stood there for a long time, watching the top of her head as she worked. He expected her to look at him with those big, puppy-dog eyes he used to love. He expected her to plead. But she just kept scrubbing, her movements slow and painful.

The silence in the hallway was heavy. Martha and the other maids had vanished into the pantry, too terrified to be caught in the middle of the Alpha’s rage.

"Look at me," Damien commanded.

Sofia didn’t stop. The brush scraped against the stone. Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.

Damien moved faster than a human could see. He reached down, grabbing her chin and forcing her head up. His fingers were rough, and he could feel the heat radiating from her skin—she was starting to run a fever from the exhaustion and the cold water.

"I said look at me!" he growled.

When her eyes finally met his, he flinched inwardly. There was no love there. No warmth. Just a deep, dark well of exhaustion and a growing, silent hatred.

Suddenly, Sofia gathered the last of her strength. Her chest rose and fell as she looked at him with pure hatred and spat on his cheek.

"Do your worst," she whispered hoarsely.

Damien froze. For a moment, everything stopped as the spit slid down his face. Rage exploded inside him. His grip tightened painfully on her jaw, and it looked like he might hit her.

Then he noticed something was wrong.

Her skin was hot. Too hot.

Her eyes rolled back as the fever and exhaustion finally took over. She went weak.

He shoved her away, and she collapsed into the dirty water on the floor, her head dropping forward.

Damien wiped his face slowly, his eyes dark and full of rage. He turned toward the pantry.

"Martha!" he barked.

The head maid hurried out, shaking. "Yes, Alpha?"

"Has she eaten today?" he asked coldly.

Martha swallowed and looked at Sofia. "No, Alpha. She’s been working since morning."

"Good," Damien said cruelly. "She gets no food today. Not even a crumb. If I find out she’s been fed, you’ll scrub these floors until your fingers bleed."

Without another look at Sofia, he turned and walked out, his boots hitting the stone floor hard with angry steps.

Sofia scrubbed until her vision blurred and the brush felt like it was made of lead. When it was night, Martha finally hissed at her to go.

Sofia didn’t say a word. She crawled to her feet, her legs shaking like a newborn calf’s, and stumbled through the dark, cold halls to her room. The moment the door clicked shut, she slumped to the floor. She didn’t even have the strength to reach the bed.

Hunger clawed sharply at her stomach. The fever made her skin feel like it was melting, yet she was shivering so hard her teeth rattled.

​Just one more week, she thought, her eyes fluttering shut. Next week, I turn twenty.

In the world of werewolves, the twentieth birthday was the final door. If you didn’t find your wolf at fourteen or eighteen, twenty was the last chance. If she shifted, her body would heal. She would get the strength to survive Damien. She would finally have the heat of the wolf to keep her warm. But if she didn’t... she would be human forever. A slave with no hope.

She curled into a ball on the hard floor, praying for a miracle.

Suddenly, the old wooden door gave a long, slow creak.

Sofia’s eyes flew open. She tried to sit up, but her muscles screamed in pain. She could only watch as a shadow fell across the floor. A tall figure stepped into the dim light of her room.