Maisie

I was caught in a hellish loop.

It was the Night Shade Pack all over again.

I could tell you about how Corazon woke me up the next morning with sad eyes and told me Master Soren wanted me moved from my bedroom to the outhouse with the rest of the staff.

I could tell about how it felt like the knife in my chest dug deeper when he said without feeling, "We need more hands with the wedding preparations, and you have more than enough experience being a maid. Of course, there’ll be a monthly wage attached in addition to earning your keep."

I could tell you all about how I considered my options carefully. Which was the lesser evils? This shit position or returning to the Night Shade pack and becoming Cole’s breeding mare? Or maybe I could just leave and start over somewhere far away from here.

The last option seemed the most enticing, until I realized leaving the Lycans ’protection’ would put me back at the mercy of the Night Shade pack, as the only reason the Council hadn’t yet summoned me and forced me into the marriage with Cole was because of the strings I knew the Lycans still pulled to buy me immunity until I was completely turned.

Leaving Ashbourne would mean abandoning my scholarship. I had worked too hard to get here and would be damned if I ruined my own life because I couldn’t stand being around them.

It was a difficult thing, swallowing my pride and taking the job. But I told myself it would only be for a little time. Until the transition was over. Until I was safe from death. Until I could stand on my own two feet.

I convinced myself that there was a bright side to this. For one, the wage was way more than anyone would have paid if I’d taken a side job. For two, living in the outhouse meant I didn’t have to see her. And them.

I was dead, fucking wrong.

She made me an active part of the wedding preparations. She made me hold up the fabric the designers brought for hours, while choosing which colors she would look best in.

She made me present for every dress fitting, cake and wine tasting, without ever acknowledging me.

She made me hold up a tray of biscuits during their meetings to discuss to manner of consummation of the wedding night. She never touched the biscuits.

I stood off to the side while they decided where the honeymoon would be.

The Lycans never looked at me. And when they did, it was fleeting and empty.

I could’ve told you I didn’t look at them, either. But that was a lie. I couldn’t not see them. They were everywhere. In the kitchens while I cleaned. On the staircases while I mopped. Making out against the walls, unable to keep their hands off each other. They were in my dreams.

I was dying on the inside.

Grabbing the mop and the bucket, I made my way over to the kitchen when a sobbing girl ran out, clutching her cheek, red and raw with handprints etched into her skin.

I stared after her, wide-eyed, before I heard Corazon behind me, "Mason—"

"Maisie," I corrected.

"The crazy woman wants you tending to her bedroom."

I stiffened, clutching the mopping stick tighter. "But she has enough maids tending her."

She had such exhausting demands, the previously emptied mansion that was run only by Corazon was now fully staffed to cater to her every whim. Which seemed something new every other minute.

Corazon looked at the direction toward which the girl had gone running and shuddered. "That’s the sixteenth one in six days. I doubt that one’s coming back." Her eyes returned to mine. "Just... do as you’re told and it’ll be fine. I think."

My hands grew clammy around the mop stick as I took the stairs and came to a halt in front of the bedroom Tessa shared with Soren. My heart skipped a beat, and some. Regardless of how many times I told myself, I’ll just clean and get out of here, my lungs wouldn’t function properly.

I felt like the other woman, impeding on a couple’s private time.

I rasped my knuckles against the door twice before slipping into the bedroom.

My chest thudded with such force, I thought I might vomit. Soren wasn’t in, but the sheets were in a twist.

The air in the bedroom was heavy with the unmistakable smell of sex and their mingling scents.

I stared at the dark sheets.

Did he kiss her first? Was it soft? Was it rough? Did he wrap his fingers around her delicate neck when he took her? Did he strangle her while he did it? I bet he was gentle. I bet he kissed her slowly afterwards and held her close. I bet he didn’t call her a slut when he was inside her.

"In here," Tessa’s cold voice came from the bathroom.

I shut the door behind me and moved on trembling legs.

She was soaking in the bathtub when I rounded the corner into the bathroom. Her head was propped backward against the edge of the jaccuzi and her slate grey eyes were trained on me.

My eyes lowered.

Her skin was flushed and her lips were kiss swollen. There was a fading bruise on her neck. It looked like fingerprints, forming a necklace on her delicate skin. From where her hands dangled off the edge, I saw more bruises. When her smooth thighs emerged from the water, they were covered in hickeys.

Jealousy burned hot in my veins as I was assaulted with the images of how it must have happened.

I hated her. The twisted creature inside me wanted to launch at her and rip out all of her hair and shriek like a banshee because she smelled like him. She smelled like... mine.

She sat up in the tub, soap slushing over her bare breasts. Her eyes ran over the uniform Tessa insisted the maids wore—an ugly black dress without form, and the little apron tied around my waist.

Her mouth kicked up in a cruel smile. "It suits you."

My beast wanted me to kill her. I ignored it, holding myself steady.

She watched me for a long moment, before jerking her head towards the rack. "The towel." 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

The bathroom smelled like Soren. His aftershave. His scented oils. His bare skin. I sucked in a deep, sharp breath and it filled my lungs with him. Being in here was like torture, and I couldn’t focus as I turned and reached for the rack.

Distracted, I felt the movement a moment too late.

I whirled at the bite of chill brushing my spine, but Tessa grabbed me by the back of my neck and threw me into the tub.

My head slammed into ceramic and shattered it. My vision went temporarily black. I sputtered water, blinding trying to climb out, but Tessa was on me in the next second, pushing my head into the water.

I thrashed, flailing my arms to get a grip on her, but her skin was slippery and I couldn’t get a solid grip. Her knees pressed into my stomach with terrifying strength as she clamped a hand over my mouth, forcing me to drink in water through my nose.

Oh god. I was going to die.

"I should kill you for even looking their way," she groaned, squeezing harder. The sound warped under water. "You think I don’t see what you’re doing? Enticing them with your false innocence. Did you promise them the privilege of popping your sweet cherry? Of course it’d have to be that. You have nothing else to offer that they’d want."

I heard her giggle. "I have done so fucking much, fought tooth and nail for my place, to be displaced by a nobody whore."

I choked on the oily water, blood gathering in my head and eyes. My eyes and lungs burned harshly. My fingers grazed the head of the faucet and I frantically gripped at it, trying to wrench it off.

"I would claim it an accident," she said. "You fell, cracked your head against the tub and drowned. Maybe I’ll do it just to see what their faces look like when they find their little mistress dead."

The world had begun to slip away from me when I successfully wrenched the faucet, gripped it with everything in me, and slammed it into the side of her face.

She let out an awful cry and her grip on me slipped.

I jackknifed out of the water, gasping for air, but Tessa was on me again, lashing out at me. Her fist rammed into my nose and I felt the pain register, but not before I slapped her.

It echoed off the walls and the marble. She scratched my face with her claws and I drove my knee up between her legs.

I was seriously done with this shit.

Everything went red. My vision tunneled, my chest burned with fire and my body just moved.

I couldn’t have explained how I ended up on top her, slamming my fist into her pretty face and rearranging it. The best explanation I could give was that I lost precious seconds of my life, during which we tumbled together, breaking tile and marble and glass.

And when the door slammed open, and I was wrenched off Tessa, she was on the floor, bleeding from different places, and I still wanted to hurt her.

"She came out of nowhere and tried to kill me!" Tessa cried, turning her face into Jericho’s chest. "She’s crazy!"

"I’m crazy?!" I snarled, thrashing against Quinlan’s arm pinning me back to his hard chest. "I’ll show you what crazy looks like!"

"Get her out of here, Chastain," I heard Soren say.

His eyes flicked between me and Tessa, and he seemed to have a moment of uncertainty before he turned his back on me, joined Jericho where he held her, dropping on one knee to cup her cheek softly, whispering something I didn’t quite catch.

And then, Tessa turned her teary eyes to his and hooked her arms around his neck, bringing her lips to his with a soft moan.

It was pathetic, but I began to bawl.

And Cole’s words clanged in my ears.

Good enough to fuck. But never good enough to be chosen.