The doors opened with a soft creak.
First came the perfume. A delicate aroma of flowers and clean wood. Then, the footsteps: stealthy, perfectly synchronized. A row of young girls, uniformed in gray dresses and white aprons, filled the room like a silent wave. Six of them, maybe seven. All with downcast eyes, all avoiding mine.
The scene must have seemed familiar to them.
To me, it tasted of humiliation.
"Miss Eliza," murmured one of them, the tallest, with a dark braid hanging over her shoulder. "We've come to fix the room. The Alpha gave the order."
Her eyes rose for a second, just one second. And in that instant, I saw the reflection of what I now was: a woman with a beaten face, naked on an unmade bed, surrounded by sheets stained by someone else's fury and my own pride. An Alpha Luna marked by fire... and by blood.
I didn't respond. I couldn't.
I covered myself with the sheets, but it was useless. Shame had already stripped me completely bare.
