Chapter 4

ANNA

I can feel his gaze following me as I leave, and I try to ignore it. But it's impossible not to feel the pull between us. I know I shouldn't be thinking about him this way. Dante is a Lycan Prince, and I'm just a rankless wolf and servant. He's engaged to the woman earlier, Darlyn, the daughter of Leonora, the female alpha of the Red River Pack. And even though I feel this strange connection to him, I know I have to keep my distance.

But it's hard when his eyes seem to burn into me, and his palms on my shoulder send shivers down my spine. I want to try to focus on my duties, but my mind keeps wandering to Dante. I can't help but wonder what it would be like to be with him, to feel his lips on mine, to be his fated mate.

But I can't allow myself to think like that. It's not possible. He's already engaged to someone else, and I'm just a rankless wolf, worse than being an omega. I have no place in his world.

“Look, if you’re hurt, I can treat the scratch in your face…”

I shouldn’t talk to my highness. He’s beyond my reach. “Your highness, I want to excuse myself. I need to do my duties. The guests might be waiting for me,”

The Lycan Prince was about to say something, but I left him there in haste. My heart is beating so fast. That I can even hear it.

As I started to serve drinks to the guests at the party, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that I hadn't seen Darlyn around. She was rude to me and the last thing I wanted was for her to catch me stealing glances at her.

Dante was everything I wanted in a man -- he looks smart, charming, and devastatingly handsome. This is just my first time seeing him in person but I had already been smitten. But I knew that nothing could ever happen between us. After all, he was engaged to Darlyn.

The party was in full swing, and I was busy serving drinks and making sure everyone was having a good time. As the night wore on, I found myself stealing glances at Dante whenever I could. I couldn't help it - there was just something about him that drew me in.

But just as I was starting to relax and enjoy myself, Darlyn walked into the crowd. My heart sank as I saw her making her way towards Dante. I tried to busy myself with serving drinks, but I couldn't help but watch as they talked and laughed together. I am trying my best not to look at their way.

As the night wore on, I found myself growing increasingly despondent. It was clear that Dante and Darlyn were deeply in love, and there was no place for me, even in my wildest dream. I resigned myself to the fact that the first man I ever liked is like a dream.

Finally, at 3 a.m. The party ended, and I was able to breathe a sigh of relief. “You did a good job, Anna. I hope if we ever need a servant again, you are just one call away,” The old woman said.

I smiled. “Thank you so much for trusting me,” The servant's head gave me my salary, and I made my way back to our home.

As I walked through the dark streets, I couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness. Dante was everything I wanted in a man, but he was out of reach. I knew that I had to try and forget about him, but that was easier said than done. Now, I know what they call connection and bond. As I saw him for the first time, I can feel there’s a string between us that is binding us. Or maybe, it’s just me? That’s for sure.

When I finally reached our home, I collapsed onto my bed and closed my eyes. But sleep was elusive, and my thoughts kept drifting back to Dante. I knew that I needed to move on, but I didn't know how. Luckily, after hours, darkness finally envelops me.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of my father's voice bellowing through the house. I knew that he was already drunk, and my heart sank as I realized that I would have to face him again.

As I made my way to the kitchen, I saw him standing there, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. "Where's your salary from last night?" he demanded, his eyes glinting with malice.

I tried to reason with him, telling him that I needed the money to pay my bills and take care of myself. But he wasn't interested in hearing my excuses. "You owe me. We had a deal. I didn’t even tell your mother about this," he snarled, his breath reeking of alcohol. "You owe me everything, you ungrateful bitch."

I felt my anger rising, but I knew that I couldn't argue with him. My father was a mean and devilish man, and I had learned a long time ago that it was best to keep my head down and stay out of his way.

Reluctantly, I handed over 70% of my salary, watching as my father smirked and tapped me on the head. "You're a good girl," he said, his voice dripping with false praise. "Don't forget it."

As he stumbled out of the kitchen, I felt a lump rising in my throat. My life was a mess, and I didn't know how to fix it. I was trapped in a cycle of poverty and abuse, and I felt like there was no way out.

I made my way back to my small room, feeling the weight of my situation crushing down on me. I sat on my bed and let the tears flow, feeling sorry for myself and for the life that I had been dealt.

But then, something inside me snapped. I realized that I couldn't keep living like this. I couldn't let my parent’s abuse and my own self-pity define my life. I had to take control of my situation and make a change.

With a newfound determination, I wiped away my tears and got dressed. I knew that I had to find a way to make more money and break free from my parent’s hold on me.

I hid my salary in a small wooden box under my bed. It was the only way I could keep it safe from my parents. They would never understand the value of hard work and the need to save money.

I started my day as usual, doing the household chores. My parents never did anything around the house, so it was up to me to keep everything clean and tidy.

I started by dusting the furniture and cleaning the windows. The sun was shining brightly outside, but inside our small house, it was dark and musty.

As I moved on to the kitchen, I realized that I hadn't seen my mother yet. She was usually up by now, asking me to do stuff for her. But there was no sign of her.

I shrugged it off and started cooking lunch, chopping vegetables and stirring the pot on the stove. I knew that my father would be home soon, and he wanted to have everything ready for him.

But as the hours passed, there was still no sign of my mother. I started to get worried, wondering where she could be. Even though my mother never cares about me, I still worry that something might happen to her.

My father finally stumbled in, reeking of alcohol and drugs. He barely acknowledged me, stumbling into his bedroom and closing the door.

I knew that I had to take care of myself and do things for my family. I went into their room and collected their dirty clothes, making my way to the laundry room.

For hours, I was busy cleaning and washing the clothes. The sound of the washing machine and dryer filled the small room, drowning out the sound of my own thoughts.

As I folded the last shirt and placed it in the basket, I realized how tired I was. Tired of the constant struggle to keep my family afloat. Tired of the never-ending cycle of addiction, poverty and slavery.

But I couldn't give up. I had to keep going, for my own sake and for the sake of myself. I knew that I had to be strong, even when everything else around me was falling apart.

As I made my way back to my room, I heard scratching sounds. I hesitated, wondering who it could be. I saw my mother Estella walking through my bedroom door, and a lump formed in my throat. But then I saw the box in her hand, and I knew that it was my salary. Dread washed over me, and I felt my eyes begin to sting with tears.

"Hi, Mom," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's so good to see you."

Estella looked at me, her eyes cold and unfeeling. She didn't say anything, just held out the box with my salary. I took it from her, my hands shaking with nervousness.

"Why are you holding my box, Mom?" I asked, my voice cracking with emotion.

Estella just grinned devilishly at me, and I knew that something was wrong. She took out my money and said, "Thanks," in a sarcastic tone.

“Mom, please, no! It’s mine! I worked hard for it, mom. I am giving you all my salary. Why do you have to get that too?” My voice almost begs her.

I tried to stop her, to tell her that I needed the money to save and buy something for myself, but she just ignored me. She slapped me hard across the face, and then grabbed my hair, yanking me down to the ground.

"You have no debt of gratitude to me!" she hissed, her face twisted in anger. "I have full rights to your salary, and you will give it to me without question! You have to bear that in your small brain, Anna!”

I sobbed, tears streaming down my face as Estella walked out of the house, leaving me alone and broken. Until now, I still couldn't believe that my own mother would treat me this way. I had always thought that she loved me, but now I realized that she only cared about herself. Oh, I’m wrong. I thought she could learn to love me someday, but I think that will never happen.

As I lay there on the floor, crying and shaking, I wondered why I was so unfortunate. Why did I have to be born into a family like this, where love and kindness were so hard to come by? I wished that I could just run away and never look back, but I knew that I had nowhere to go.

Eventually, I managed to pull myself together and get up off the floor. I know even if I cry a river or a blood, nothing will change. My parents won’t pity me. They’re remorseless. 

As I lay on my bed, and stared at the ceiling, I can’t help but ask myself. “When will these hardships end?”