Lyla's POV

And just like that, I was shipped off like the disposable lump of clay that I was.

“Lyla Grace!?” I whipped my head to find someone ceremoniously dressed calling my name from the front of the palace gates where other girls, who if I guessed correctly were also maids.

I raised my hand and her eagle eyes centered on me instantly. Seconds later I was harshly dragged out of the crowd towards a new location.

“Late? On your first royal duty? What are you, stupid or just suicidal?” She immediately questioned and I was shocked.

She pushed me towards a door where I could hear feet scrambling, a commotion of pots and spoons and people of both genders screaming at each other.

“Get to work! You useless omega,” she shouted and turned around without a second glance.

Anger swirled in my veins.

I had done something nobody in this pack had done and yet somehow, people above me had made sure it was all going to be for nothing.

Not for me though.

I walked into the room and realized it was a kitchen. Immediately, trays of used plates landed on my hands and I didn’t need anybody to tell me what to do.

As I scrubbed pots and spoons clean of grime and disgusting food particles, I forced my thoughts to stay sharp, to not drown in defeat.

There was no way I was going to be staying here under Clara’s whim. After this forsaken overly decorated crowning ceremony, I was going to escape to a neighboring pack and send my mother money for the house upkeep.

I was too smart for this.

More plates descended into the sink and I sighed in annoyance but I couldn’t stop myself from scrubbing.

“Where is she!?” An angry voice called out, I had just finished my share of the plates when the same woman walked up to me and dragged me by the hair away from my post.

A groan left my lips as she tugged and finally let go.

“Here!” She instructed, gesturing to the tray of food close to me.

“You’ll be serving king Ares’ table,” she commanded and was about to walk away but a venomous scowl had formed on my face.

King Ares? Clara’s betrothed and king of the meadow pack? The ruthless Alpha. My sister’s killer?

“No” I said in a firm and strong voice. The whole kitchen went still.

The lady stopped. Her heels making a silent pause as she turned around, her head cocked to the side with shock.

“What did you say? Omega?” Stressing the word omega as though I didn’t already know my place.

And I did. And goddess knew that my parents could kiss King Ares ass and forget what happened but I could never.

I silently turned towards her, my back straight and my scowl even more venomous, she flinched a little as I took two steps towards her to show her I was not afraid of her.

“You heard me. I said, No,” I deadpanned and I could see her eyes turn to slits.

“You will do as I ask, omega —“

“Lyla Grace,” I interrupted.

“My name is Lyla Grace and I will not be serving King Ares table,” I finished and whispers decorated the room. The woman knew she was losing control and fast.

“We’ll see about that.” She countered “Back to work! Everybody! Or it’s ten lashes before bed.” She commanded and like an army, everyone went about their business leaving me in the middle of the room.

The woman walked away and I heaved a sigh of relief, my heart hammering behind my chest as I suddenly heard my father’s voice echo in my mind scolding me, yelling at me, my mother’s pleading with me to endure but I knew that I could do almost anything than pretend that a murderer was my king.

I walked back to my post as though nothing just happened. The people in the kitchen held their tongues and avoided me.

I didn’t mind because by the end of today, they would not be seeing me again.

I was on my fifth hefty wash when a sudden and urgent click of heels erupted in the room. I didn’t bother to turn back because I already knew it was that Woman again.

Internally, I sighed. I didn’t mind yelling my opinion if that was what it took for her to get over her own order but slowly I started to realize that those heels had a deathly strike to it and it was marching towards me. The room had gone deathly still.

I made the mistake of turning back to catch a glimpse of what was going on before someone’s fist grabbed my head and face and pushed me into the murky dish water.

My body jolted, lungs screaming for air as I thrashed around but the person’s grip was firm.

When I was finally released, I was thrown across the floor, slamming into a cabinet, the crack echoing through my ribs and a yowl escaping from my throat.

Strong hands forced me to kneel and tipped my head up, the soap had entered my eyes, causing a continuous sting to resonate and my vision was a bit blurry as I struggled to breathe at the same time tried to fight against the hand that was firmly placed at the top of my head.

Suddenly, everything became clear and steel fingers grabbed me by the face, her stiletto nails dug into the sides of my face as she brought her face close to mine.

“A little birdie told me, you refused an order that I gave,” she sneered, the same cold blue eyes that had bullied and hunted me throughout healing school.

“Is that true?” She asked and straightened her spine.

My eyes held rage as she kissed her teeth.

“You know what?” She asked and released me harshly, drawing blood from my face. I winced instinctively.

“Let me give you a choice,” she said sweetly, her eyes never leaving mine.

“Either, you do what I say or I trample and destroy your father’s house,” she finished.

She wouldn’t.

“Oh but I can,” she said, giving a small chuckle as though she read my mind.

The hands that had been firmly placed on my head released me and I fell on all fours.

“Aww, you don’t have to beg Lyla,” she said but my eyes were flooding with tears.

That house was the only thing we had left. The only thing King Ares allowed us to keep.

“I mean, you already stole valedictorian from me, this is the least you can do to make it up to me,” she added and I looked up at her, my eyes dripping tears as rage filled up my belly.

If we lost that house, we would be homeless. We would have nothing left and Clara would make sure I suffer for the rest of my life.

I stood up, tall and firm even though my legs were shaking.

“That’s it. Good girl,” she said while clapping her hands.

I couldn’t let her strip everything away. This was for my family. Everything I did was for my family.

My lips trembled at the heartbreaking decision I had to make.

Today marked the day I served my sister’s murder as a slave. A disgrace to her memory. A betrayer to her name.

But was it still terrible if it was to save our parents?

I blinked back my tears as my body shrouded in guilt. My eyes quickly dancing away the worn out wristband my sister had made for me before she was taken from me.

I was no hero. I just wanted to survive and for that I was a disgrace.

I balanced the tray on my hands and she gave a satisfactory sigh.

“Was that hard?” She asked and turned to everyone in the room but nobody dared raise their head to look at her.

She gave a slight chuckle. Already a dictator before getting her Luna crown. A perfect fit for a ruthless king.

“Now,” she said, her voice more serious as she walked closer to me. Her eyes subtly scanned me till they landed on my wrist where the wristband lay.

Her eyes flickered to me in disgust as she scoffed and just before I could stop her, she let out a claw and cut the band from my wrist in one swift motion.

“No!!” I screamed, shoving the tray back to its place while attempting to catch the wristband before it crumbled to the floor but Clara intercepted me, pinning me to the ground with her hand on my face like before.

A snarl left her lips, dragging my attention to her “Defy me again and trampling your father’s miserable house wouldn’t be the only thing I’d do,” she threatened and walked away. A smile plastered on her lips as she greeted some well dressed men right outside the room.

I didn’t pick up the tray.

Not right away.

First, I picked up the pieces of myself, whatever was left after Clara spit on my sister’s memory and crushed the only thing I had to remember her by.

My hands trembled as I folded the broken band into my chest. It still smelled like home.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to fight. But what would be left of us if I did?

Clara wouldn’t mind crushing us. So I stood, my soul crushed as I tied my hair back with the band like it still meant something. Like I still meant something.

The woman from before suddenly appeared like a ghost before me.

Her eyes gleaming in triumph at my obvious display of pain.

“You’d better hurry up,” she sneered.

I looked over at the tray and balanced it on my hands again. My body smelled like grime, sweat, tears, pain and dirty dish water.

A maid but I didn’t have a choice.

I tried to straighten my back while the woman led the way.

My eyes stung with unshed tears and my back straightened with every step.

What had I done to deserve this?