Chapter 1
The scent of burned toast clung to my hair long after the smoke had been scrubbed from the kitchen.
It didn't matter that I had gotten up before dawn, that I'd ironed the uniforms, polished the silver, and even handwashed the china my stepmother only used when her bridge club came over
One corner of the bread had charred, and that was enough.
Her slap came so fast my head jerked sideways. The sting bloomed hot across my cheek, my vision blurring for a second before she spoke.
"You're useless," she hissed, her voice like syrup poured over glass shards. "No wonder your own mother died and left you behind."
The words cut deeper than her hand.
They always did.The constant reminder that not even my own mother loved me enough to fight for her life and be here with me.
She knew how much it hurt, and that's why she constantly used it.Constantly rubbing salt to an already deep cut wound.
I swallowed, lowering my head so she wouldn't see my eyes water. If she saw, she'd only smile.Like the wicked witch she is.Like the monster that kids fear underneath their beds.
My stepbrother, Liam, lounged at the doorway, smirking like he was watching a dog get kicked. "She likes it," he drawled. "She probably gets off on it."
Heat flared in my face—not from shame, but from the rage, I couldn't show.
If I spoke back, I'd pay for it later. If I looked away too quickly, I'd pay for that, too.
So I stood there, silent, fingers curling around the dishcloth like it could anchor me.
As if it was the only the only thing that could protect them from the anger and resentment that burns deep inside me towards them.
"Clean this mess," my stepmother ordered, gesturing to the single crumb on the counter. "And scrub the floor. On your knees. When you're done, the bathrooms."
"Yes, ma'am." My voice was steady, though my chest felt tight.
As soon as she turned away, Liam leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear. "You'll never get out," he whispered. "We'll make sure of it."
I flinched despite myself, and his smirk widened before he sauntered off.
---
Hours later, when the house was silent and my knees ached from scrubbing, I crawled into my narrow bed. The springs dug into my back through the thin mattress. The blanket was threadbare, but I clutched it around me like armor.
I closed my eyes.
And the world changed.
The walls melted away into a black sky strung with silver stars. Heat licked over my skin, not the harsh burn of the stove or the sting of a slap, but something… softer. Like a fire that wanted to warm, not destroy.
He was there again.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. His hair blacker than the sky itself, his eyes an impossible shade of molten gold.
Every time I saw him, he looked at me like I was something precious, something worth holding.
Something worth keeping.
"Selene." My name on his lips was smoke and silk, curling into me, loosening knots I didn't know I had.
I tried to speak, but the air caught in my throat.
He stepped closer, and the ground beneath us shifted, no longer earth but something like onyx, glossy and warm beneath my bare feet. His hand lifted—large, strong—and brushed the side of my face where my stepmother had struck me.
The pain vanished under his touch, replaced by a heat that spread down my neck, over my chest, coiling low in my belly.
"They hurt you again." It wasn't a question. His voice rumbled through me, deep and dangerous.
I should have been afraid. I should have stepped back. But instead, I leaned into him, into that heat, into the way his presence swallowed everything else.
"I can make it stop," he murmured. "All of it. One word, and you will never feel their hands on you again. You will never hear their voices."
His thumb traced my lower lip, and I shivered. The promise in his voice wasn't just escape—it was something darker, sweeter.
But before I could answer, the dream shifted. The heat flickered, and the stars above wavered.
And I woke to the sound of footsteps in the hall.
Back in my room. Back in the cold.
Back to the life , I couldn't escape.No matter how hard I tried ,wished, or prayed for.I was trapped in this life.This hell hole.