Isabella's POV

My head pounded as I blinked, struggling to adjust to the faint light. “What happened?” I whispered to myself.

Cold stone pressed against my cheek, and a metallic taste lingered on my tongue. When I tried to move, I discovered that my hands were bound tightly behind my back. I glanced around, finding no windows.

My stomach tightened into knots. I was completely alone now.

“Where am I?”

A low creak echoed, followed by the steady rhythm of approaching footsteps. At the far end of the basement, a heavy door groaned open. Then a shadowy figure stepped inside.

“So, you’re awake,” a woman’s voice said.

I cleared my throat. “W-where am I?”

The woman moved closer, her heels clicking softly against the floor. Slowly, she emerged fully into the dim light. She was a stern-faced elder clad in a long black dress. She said nothing at first, only studied me silently.

My jaw tightened. “W-what do you want?” I asked again, louder this time.

“We’ll get to that,” the woman said, kneeling before me. “It’s actually quite direct, and very simple.” She paused, her gaze locked on my face. “Who sent you? What were you looking for? Who?”

My mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

The woman’s lips curved into a slight smile. “You see, no one comes here. Not by chance, not without a reason. So, I suggest you start talking... before our Master arrives and decides to kill you himself.”

I swallowed hard. “I-I wasn’t—”

Before I could finish, the old woman pressed the cold barrel of a revolver firmly against my temple. “Don’t lie to me,” she warned. “I won’t think twice about pulling this trigger. Speak now, before my patience runs out. Who sent you?”

Tears welled up in my eyes. I had no idea what to say or do. All I wanted was to escape this nightmare.

“Just…” I whispered hoarsely, “just kill me instead.”

I thought back to what my Aunt Eva had promised. I had believed I would be safe. But now? How had it all gone so wrong? How had I ended up here? And how was I even still alive?

“You’re wasting my time,” the woman said sharply, her eyes boring into my soul. “If you’re hoping for a rescue, forget it. No one’s coming. Do you even realize where you are? This is hell. And those who live here?”

I could only bite my lip.

“They’re monsters. You’d be better off dead than left to them. So tell me... should I do you the favor?”

I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to die. Not yet. I still wanted to see my Aunt Eva again, to hold Timmy and Lily in my arms. I shifted instinctively, but the rope only tightened around my wrists.

Suddenly, something flashed through my mind, and my eyes fluttered open. My voice shook, but I forced the words out. “Eva... Eva Sinclair.”

The woman’s grip on the revolver loosened. Her features softened, and she stepped back, lowering the weapon. “Eva Sinclair?” she echoed.

“Yes,” I stammered. “She’s my aunt. She... she’s the one who told me to come here.”

The woman repeated the name under her breath, then slipped the revolver into the pocket of her dress.

“So, it really is you,” she murmured. For the first time, something lit her eyes. “You’re very lucky. And I must admit... I envy you.”

The old woman knelt and carefully untied the ropes binding my wrists. I finally let out a shaky breath. Glancing down, I noticed I was dressed in a new gown. Confused, I looked up at the woman, who was now staring blankly at me. “So... what happens now?”

The woman’s lips curved into a smile. “Now, you ask...” she whispered. “Well, you’ll listen closely to everything I say.” She paused for a moment. “You’ll serve as a maid here, under my watch. If you follow my orders without question, you’ll be safe. Do you understand? Nod and say, ‘Yes, Miss Kenton.’”

I obeyed at once. “Y-yes, Miss Kenton,” I stammered, biting my lip as my voice quivered. “I’ll do whatever you ask. I swear.”

“You must,” Miss Kenton said firmly. “I’m only the head housekeeper here. There’s only so much I can do to protect you, sweetheart. So, you’ll need to be very careful. Stay out of trouble, keep to your duties, and above all, avoid the others in this household—especially our Master. If you really value your life, you’ll heed that warning.”

She helped me to my feet and offered me a hand. “Remember,” she said calmly, “as long as you obey the rules, you’ll have nothing to be afraid of.”

“Yes, Miss Kenton,” I answered, nodding slowly.

Without another word, Miss Kenton led me toward a narrow staircase. As we climbed, the air grew thicker until we finally emerged into the grand hallway of the house.

“Stay close,” Miss Kenton instructed. “I’ll introduce you to the other maids, and afterward, we’ll go over your responsibilities—as well as the things you must never do. We’ll also see to those injuries of yours.”

We moved silently through endless corridors, passing portraits and ancient furnishings. Finally, we reached the servants’ quarters, where several maids hurried about their tasks. The maids paused, glancing up as Miss Kenton entered. She addressed them briskly, “Ladies, this is our newest maid. Her name is—”

“Isabella,” I interrupted, my voice steady despite the knot of nerves in my chest. “My name is Isabella.”

The maids exchanged a few curious looks before offering me welcoming smiles. A tall woman with striking features stepped forward. “Welcome, Isabella. I’m Clara. If you ever need anything or have questions, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you, Clara,” I said shyly.

Miss Kenton wasted no time taking command. “As some of you may already know, Mr. Hawthorne Wolfhart has recently passed,” she announced. “The heir to the estate is expected any moment today. Please ensure that every room is in perfect order, especially the main hall and the dining room where he’ll be received.”

Her sharp gaze then shifted to me. “Once you’ve settled in, you’ll assist in preparing the guest quarters. Everything must be ready for our Master. There is no room for error.”

I nodded swiftly. “Understood, Miss Kenton.”

“Welcome to Crescent Manor, Isabella.” Miss Kenton’s lips curved into a small smile. “Home of the Wolfhart Family—and the new Alpha of the Sylvan Pack.”

***

Under Clara’s careful guidance, I quickly learned the basics of my new duties. The Crescent Manor now bustled with maids rushing up and down the corridors.

Later, I retreated to a quiet corner to catch my breath. I closed my eyes, gathering my strength, then continued down the corridors to ensure everything was in its proper place.

I couldn’t help but remember Miss Kenton’s warning. ‘Stay out of trouble, keep to your duties, and above all, avoid the others in this household—especially our Master…’

My steps eventually brought me to a dimly lit hallway. At the far end, I saw a door left slightly ajar. As I drew closer, a distant rumble echoed, followed by the sound of glass shattering and a hoarse groan.

“What the—?”

My heart pounded as I pushed the door open and stepped cautiously inside. It appeared to be a private study or office. In the adjacent bathroom, fresh blood stained the white tiles, and shards of glass from a shattered vase lay scattered across the floor.

I clasped my hand over my mouth. “Oh my God...”

Before I could turn and alert Miss Kenton, something suddenly filled the doorway. I spun around, my breath catching as I found myself face-to-face with a towering figure.

His dark eyes pierced through me, sending chills through my veins. Before I could process what was happening, he gripped my shoulders and slammed me back against the wall.

I gasped as his strength crushed against me. “Who are you?” he growled.

I groaned at the sudden impact, struggling to breathe, when the door burst inward with a thud. Several figures stormed inside. Their muscular frames were covered in tribal tattoos, and they swiftly aimed their guns directly at me.

Miss Kenton appeared in the doorway. She took in the scene quickly, her gaze flicking over the guards before locking onto me. Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped.

“Alpha Alaric!” one of the men shouted, snapping his eyes to me. He studied me coldly. “Who is she?”

“T-the new maid, Beta Ryder,” Miss Kenton stammered. She took a step back, lowering her gaze, falling silent.

The others kept their guns trained on me, but the moment the man they called Alpha spoke, their muscles stiffened.

“No…” The Alpha’s breath smelled of mint and alcohol against my nose.

It was only then that I had a moment to truly study him. The chiseled lines of his face were marred with fresh wounds, and blood dripped slowly from his forehead.

His flickering eyes seemed to see right through me, as if they could read my very soul. He blinked once, and when he did, his gaze sharpened.

“She’s not a maid,” he said softly. He ran his tongue across his lips, a small smile curling at the corners. “She’s my wife…”