Chapter 3- The royal visit

Lucy finally reached her basement room and paused, taking in the grimy scene. Dust floated thickly in the stale air, clinging to the cracked walls. Insects crawled freely across the floor — and sometimes even across her skin. Once, she would have screamed. Now, she barely noticed.

She bent down and grabbed a few pieces of clothing, her movements mechanical. Sitting down on the edge of the creaky bed, Lucy stared blankly at the room she had been trapped in for so long.

Everything was changing so quickly.

After years of nothing but misery... could she really be free in just a few months?

Her hand trembled slightly as she remembered her small pouch. She had hidden it deep inside an old dusty vase. Her tiny savings — enough, she hoped, to buy herself a real start.

Lucy crossed the room and reached inside the vase. Her fingers brushed the rough fabric just as footsteps echoed down the basement stairs.

She stiffened.

"Well, well. Looks like the dumb bitch is packing to go somewhere," Gina’s mocking voice rang out, followed by the high-pitched laughter of her minions.

Lucy straightened her spine. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her scared.

"I've been reassigned," Lucy said calmly, turning to face them. "I'm just packing my stuff."

Gina’s sharp eyes locked onto the pouch in Lucy’s hand.

Without hesitation, she lunged forward and ripped it away.

Lucy reached for it instinctively, but two of Gina’s friends seized her arms, holding her in place. Pain flared in her bruised muscles.

"Please, Gina, I’m begging you," Lucy whispered desperately. "That’s my money. I saved it. Please."

Gina threw her head back in cruel laughter.

"And you think I believe that, you little murderer?" she spat. "You stole this from the pack, you filthy thief!"

The first slap came hard and fast, snapping Lucy’s head to the side. Another followed. And another. Gina’s perfectly manicured nails raked dangerously close to Lucy’s eyes, and for a terrifying second, Lucy thought she might lose her sight.

Finally, Gina stepped back, tossing her bleached blonde hair over her shoulder. Her friends kicked Lucy’s legs out from under her, forcing her to kneel.

"Listen closely, you pathetic bitch," Gina hissed, her face inches from Lucy’s. "Don't even look at my Jayden. He’s mine. Next time you try something, I’ll rip your throat out."

With a satisfied sneer, Gina tore Lucy’s pouch apart, scattering the shredded remains of her money across the floor.

The pieces fluttered around Lucy like ashes.

Without another word, Gina and her minions turned and sauntered away, laughing.

Lucy remained on her knees for a long moment, breathing shakily.

Her dream of escape seemed farther away than ever.

When Lucy finally made it back upstairs, she knocked quietly at Jo’s door.

"Come in," Jo called.

Lucy stepped inside, her face still swollen and red from the assault. Jo’s expression hardened instantly.

"Was it Gina again?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Lucy gave a small, broken nod.

"You should fight back," Jo said, trying to keep her voice gentle. "You’ve got Beta blood, just like she does. You’re not weak."

Lucy offered a bitter smile.

"It’s useless, Jo. I fought back once, and the beatings tripled. There’s no point. Besides..." Her voice cracked. "She destroyed all my savings. I have nothing left. Even if we run... how will I survive?"

Tears welled up in her eyes. She covered her face, trying — and failing — to hold them in.

Jo’s heart twisted painfully.

She should have helped Lucy long ago.

She would help her now.

"Listen," Jo said firmly. "When we leave, I’ll pay for both of us until you find your feet. You can pay me back later. Deal?"

Lucy hesitated, searching Jo’s face for any sign of pity — but found only sincerity.

Slowly, she nodded.

Jo grinned and bumped her shoulder lightly against Lucy’s.

"Good. And for the record? No crying allowed in this room. Now — what are your hobbies?"

"I don't have any," Lucy murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Well, I like reading—"

The door slammed open.

"What in the holy Moon Goddess’s name is she doing here?" Polly demanded, glaring at Lucy.

"Pols," Jo said brightly, covering the tension with forced cheer, "I asked her to stay. There’s room for an extra mattress!"

Polly huffed, crossing her arms. "Fine. But it's only temporary. Anyway, the guests arrived ages ago. We need help in the kitchen."

"Lucy, you’ve had a rough day. Rest," Jo said kindly. "I’ve already set up a mattress for you."

She grabbed a hairband and tied her red hair into a tight bun as she followed Polly out the door.

"Off we go, old gal," Jo teased, linking her arm through Polly’s and dragging her down the hall.

*

The kitchen was pure chaos.

"More wine for the generals!" someone yelled.

Jo groaned and heaved bottles out of the wine cellar, her arms already aching. The so-called royal warriors drank like fish.

As she lifted the last bottle, it slipped from her fingers and shattered across the floor in a spray of glass.

"Jo! Are you okay?" Polly rushed to her side.

"I’m fine," Jo muttered, wincing as she noticed a shallow cut blooming across her palm.

Polly grabbed a cloth and pressed it to the wound, scolding her gently.

"You silly girl."

"Head Miss!" an omega called out. "The former Alpha needs you!"

Polly cursed under her breath.

"Go," Jo said. "I’ll manage."

"Make sure you go outside and stop the bleeding," Polly ordered before disappearing toward the dining hall.

Jo rolled her eyes fondly and slipped out into the garden, grateful for the cold night air.

The sky was breathtaking.

The full moon gleamed like a silver coin, casting everything in soft light.

Jo tilted her head back, letting the breeze wash over her.

"Quite a beauty, isn’t she?" a low voice said.

Jo turned sharply.

A man lounged casually on the grass nearby, clad in heavy silver armor. His face was half-covered by a dark mask, but the smirk visible on his lips made Jo bristle.

"You should be inside, dining with the others," she said coldly.

"The food was terrible," he said, his voice deep and amused.

Jo’s temper flared.

"Oh, lucky for you — plenty of grass out here. Happy grazing, cow."

She spun on her heel to leave, but before she could take another step, his hand shot out and caught her wrist.

She froze.

How had he moved so fast?

"Wait," he said, urgency threading through his voice. "I was only joking."

Jo glared at him, ready to tear into him — but the sight of his eyes stopped her short.

They were golden, with silver rings swirling in them like molten stars.

She had never seen anything like it.

For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.

The tension between them crackled like a live wire.

The stranger's gaze locked onto hers, intense, unyielding.

Jo’s heart thudded painfully in her chest, confused and furious at her own reaction.

"What's your name, miss?" he asked, his voice quieter now, almost reverent.

Jo yanked her hand free, her blood pounding in her ears.

"I need to go," she snapped, pushing past him without another glance.

As she disappeared into the darkness, the man leaned back against the grass, a slow smile curling his lips.

"I’ll find out your name soon enough, little firecracker," he murmured to the night.