Chapter 17
Scarlett’s POV
Lucian’s words echoed painfully in my mind, each one like a fresh wound. All this, just because I hadn’t thanked him. I refused to let him see the hurt, to let him feel the satisfaction of seeing me break.
I forced the tears back, holding them in with every ounce of willpower I had. My life had turned into a nightmare, and each day with them felt worse than the last. I’d once dreamed of freedom from my father, but somehow, my life with him seemed like a mercy compared to this.
An invisible tally began forming in my mind, a list of those I’d make pay if I ever got through this. Lucian’s name was at the top. He’d spat his cruelty so easily, so casually, without a single thought about what his words did to me.
I’d wished–prayed–that he’d reject me and let me go, that they’d all do it, so I could finally have peace and be free of this cursed mate bond. But, of course, Clay had stopped him. I’d almost tasted freedom for a moment, and he’d stepped in, thwarting any hope of
escape.
The Omegas brought food, and I ate in silence, determined to nourish myself if only to get through another day. When I was done, I returned to my place by the window, staring out but not really looking at anything. I tried to shut it all out, to escape inside myself, to cling to the quiet places in my mind.
“Come and clear this table,” Lucian’s voice cut through the stillness, sharp and indifferent. He didn’t look at me, but his command was unmistakable.
I stood up, determined, facing them as calmly as I could. “How much will you be paying me to work for you?” I asked, my voice unwavering. Maxwell nearly choked on his water, sputtering, while Lucian just stared, looking as though he couldn’t believe I’d dared to say
ít.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he finally said, his tone dripping with disbelief.
“No, I’m dead serious. Unless you want me going around ‘stealing shit,‘ I demand to be paid for my work. Or stop asking me to do things for you.” I held his gaze for a moment,
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Chapter 17
daring him to argue, then turned away, making it clear I’d said my piece.
“We won’t pay you, Scarlett,” Lucian replied, his words hard and unyielding. I took a steadying breath and decided to sit back down, ignoring them entirely as I stared out the big glass window.
“Then clear your own mess,” I said quietly, fully aware of the boldness of my words. I sensed someone getting up and walking toward me, their footsteps heavy with anger, but I refused to turn around.
“Lucian! Lucian!” I heard both Clay and Maxwell’s voices, but before I could brace myself, Lucian’s hand wrapped around my upper arm in a bruising grip, jerking me up with startling force. The pain was sharp; radiating through my arm, but I bit down on my lip, forcing myself to keep silent, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a scream.
“I’m going to teach that mouth of yours a lesson,” he hissed, his voice low and menacing “You’re just like your father, Scarlett. I’ll treat you like the bitch you are.”
I wanted to laugh, to show him I wasn’t afraid, but his grip was too tight, the pain too intense, and I felt tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. I blinked rapidly, willing them away, refusing to let him see me break, even though every instinct screamed at me to pull away, to shield myself.
But I stood firm, holding onto the last shred of control I had left.
“If I survived my father, I can survive you,” I muttered, biting back the pain as Lucian’s grip tightened even more. Clay rushed over, yanking at Lucian’s arm.
“Leave her alone, Lucian!” he shouted, his voice filled with authority. Maxwell was there a second later, pulling Lucian back, and finally, he released me, leaving the sleeve of my dress torn, though I kept silent, determined not to let him see the full extent of my hurt.
“This has to stop, Lucian!” Maxwell’s voice cut through the tension. “She isn’t just yours;
she’s ours too. I won’t stand by and watch you treat her this way. If you want to reject her, fine. But don’t lay a finger on her again!”
Clay’s eyes were dark with fury as he turned on Lucian.
“Only a coward does this. If you wanted revenge so badly, you should’ve taken it up with Nikolay when he was alive instead of taking it out on his daughter, who’s young and
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Chapter 17
wolfless. This is beneath you, Lucian. It’s shameful.”
Lucian’s face twisted with anger. “Nikolay didn’t care about innocence when he slaughtered my sister’s newborns, when he killed her children in cold blood. He didn’t see them as harmless!” His voice broke, seething with old wounds and resentment. But I couldn’t find sympathy for him. I was past that, past all his melodrama and twisted logic.
“And now you want to be just like him?” Maxwell countered, his voice calm but firm. Lucian lowered his head, the shame finally starting to break through his hardened facade.
“I won’t let this…this bitch talk to me however she likes,” he muttered, his pride clawing for control. “I am Alpha, and she has to obey me.”
I stifled a bitter laugh, meeting his glare without flinching. He’d need every ounce of luck for that wish because I had no intention of ever treating him like my Alpha.
“Scarlett,” Clay spoke to me gently, “try being more respectful,” he pleaded, his tone genuine. I kept silent for a moment, trying not to undermine the one kindness shown to
me here. Finally, I gave a slight nod.
Maxwell spoke next, his voice level but kind. “We can’t pay you, Scarlett, because you’re
not our maid. You’re our mate. From now on, you don’t need to do the chores.”
“We’ll get you a room tomorrow,” Clay added with a reassuring look.
But Lucian’s voice cut through the room, harsh and unyielding. “Never!” he snapped. “She’ll keep sleeping in that living room. Stasia is coming tomorrow, and that extra room
belongs to her until I claim her according to tradition. This Vladislav bitch can’t have-”
“I’m fine sleeping in the living room,” I interrupted him, not wanting to give him the
satisfaction of seeing me fight over something so trivial. Lucian was insufferably childish.
Whoever Stasia was, she would have her work cut out for her with him. Part of me wished
the bond worked differently that I could reject him as easily as he could reject me. But as
a Valkin Alpha, the rejection had to come from him, and only then could I accept it.
“Reject me already, would you?” I said, my voice steady. I met his gaze, waiting for the words that would finally set me free, but instead of answering, he stormed out of the room. I took a shaky breath and returned to the floor, where I sat back, feeling the weight of everything pressing down.
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