Sophia Pov

I’m on the floor, my breath a choked sob. The Lycan King stands over me, a sneer twisting on his lips. His golden eyes burn with a cold, hateful gaze. My hand instinctively clutches my belly, the sole source of warmth in this cold world. I close my eyes, bracing for the inevitable. He delights in violence; I’ve seen him tear servants apart. The burns of the whip marks on my back are a constant reminder of my helplessness.

“On your feet,” he commands, his voice a predator’s growl.

I scramble up, clumsy and awkward. The dull ache in my knees and the sting on my back feel magnified under his gaze. He watches my every trembling movement, a cruel expression on his face.

“Undress,” he says, his tone serious.

The command freezes me. My eyes widen in a silent, desperate plea. The thought of exposing myself to this monster is a humiliation greater than any physical pain. My thin clothes are my last shred of dignity.

“I won’t tell you again,” he says, his voice losing all civility. “Do you think I’m playing with you? Undress, or I will remove them myself, and you will not like it.”

My pleas die in my throat. My body shakes uncontrollably, a shiver of fear and shame. I wipe away the tears. With shaky, fumbling hands, I pull at the rough fabric of my dress. Each garment that falls to the floor feels like a piece of my soul being ripped away.

When I am naked, I stand hunched, my arms crossed over my chest as if I could hide the bump. My cheeks burn with shame. I feel the weight of his stare on my skin. He looks at my belly, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

“How utterly pathetic,” he mutters. “So weak. This… filth… is a testament to your impurity.”

I bite my lip until I taste blood.

“I heard you like to clean,” he says. “So you will clean my floor. Every inch of this marble. With your bare hands.”

Tears of pain and humiliation stream down my face. “But… my back… I can’t…” The words are a broken whisper.

He takes a slow step closer. “Little whore, you forget who you are. A slave. You don’t have a say. You will do as I say, or I will show you what a true punishment is.”

I am so exposed, so helpless, a mere animal to be used. I turned my gaze away from him, accepting the cruel fate.

He gestures to a bloodied stain on the floor. “That stain,” he says. “It came from an impudent servant who thought she could disobey me. Now, you will clean it.”

I slowly lower myself to my knees, the cold floor sending a shock through my body. The shivering starts again. I hate him. He is a monster who delights in others’ suffering. I can feel his golden eyes on my back as I try to wipe the stain away.

My hands are raw and bruised. I rub harder, the friction making the raw skin sting. The humiliation of being naked and utterly broken is a heavy weight. Hours pass, or maybe minutes. I lose all sense of time. My body is numb, my hands are red, and the stain is barely fading. He is restless, but his eyes never leave me.

“I wonder what my brother saw in a filth like you, I won't lie you have a nice body, something fit for a slut like you” I looked up, his gaze was fixed on my body with the look of disgust.

“Still here?” he says, his voice laced with venom. He walks closer. “I thought a woman of your… reputation would have given up. But I see you're as stubborn as you are filthy. Just a stain on this room, no better than the blood you’re trying to wipe away.”

My jaw clenches, and I feel a fresh wave of tears fall. He throws a book across the room.

“Clean it up,” he commands, his voice cracking with rage. “Now.”

I scramble to my feet, my muscles screaming in protest. The exhaustion is a heavy weight. I feel a wave of dizziness and stumble, my foot catching on a rug. I lose my balance. My swollen belly hits the corner of the heavy wooden desk with a sharp, sickening thud.

A gasp rips from my throat, a cry of pure, agonizing pain. I clutch my belly, my body shaking with silent sobs. And then I see it. A dark, sticky liquid on my legs. It’s warm, and it’s a lot. My eyes widen in horror as I realize it’s blood.

“No…” I whimper. “No, no, no.”

Leonidas, who had been watching, freezes. His golden eyes, filled with hatred, now hold a flicker of shock. The pain is a white-hot fire in my lower abdomen. My baby. My only hope.

I look at him, tears streaming down my face. “What did you do?” I whisper. “You… you did this.”

He takes a step back, his face pale. And as he moves, the light from the chandelier catches a unique mark on the side of his neck. A small, jagged birthmark, half-hidden by his golden hair. My breath hitches. I know that mark. I’ve seen that mark.

The world spins. The pain gives way to a strange numbness, and a lost memory flickers behind my eyes. I'm in a dark room wearing a black mask. My friend’s voice echoes, “He’s impotent. You’ll be fine. Just a night.” I remember the man. A stranger with a musky, primal scent. The room was illuminated with a single candle. He was kind, gentle even. And I remember the way he moved, his posture as strong as a Lycan’s, his golden eyes shone brightly and that unique, jagged mark on his neck.

My heart stops. It was him. I had my guesses on him being the stranger but I was in doubt, what would he be looking for there and in such a situation, but now I can piece everything together, Leonidas is the father of my child. He called my child a bastard, but my child is his. I was sold to the father of my baby, by his own brother.

The pain returns, a million times stronger. It’s not physical; it’s the pain of a life filled with lies. My hatred for him bursts into a roaring volcano. I will not die a victim. I will die as the woman who sees his true face.

My hands, slick with blood, push against the cold marble floor. I look up at him, at his shocked expression, and a cruel, vengeful smile tips my lips. My throat is on fire, but the words pour from my soul.

“You… monster,” I gasp, blood bubbling at the corner of my lips. “You took my light. You took my home … you’ve taken my child.”

His eyes widen. He takes another step back.

“But this isn’t the end,” I say, my voice a ragged whisper. “I will not forget. I will not rest. I will haunt you. You will never know peace. You will never have happiness. I swear it. I will make sure you suffer… just like me.”

I can hear him calling for someone, his voice a frantic command, but the sound is muffled. My body convulses, a final tremor. The fire in my belly consumes me. My eyes are locked on his, filled with a hatred so raw it could burn the world. I am fading, the last thing I see is blood, the blood of my own child, on my hands.