I sat back on my bed as soon as Damon left, staring at the closed door. My chest was still heaving. I pressed a hand over my heart, hating the way it was beating so fast.
"Stupid," I muttered to myself. "You’re so stupid, Lisa."
Why was I reacting ? After everything? After knowing that Damon and his brothers were the reason my father was dead?
They didn’t kill him with their hands, no, but they might as well have. They’d refused to let me care for him when he got sick. Refused me permission to come home and care for him. And now... now he was gone.
And here I was... letting my heart race because Damon kissed me.
I clenched my fists. "You disgust me," I whispered to myself.
I turned my face into my pillow, trying to block out the bitter, ugly thoughts. But they were already too loud, mixing with memories of my father’s face and the sting of Damon’s lips on mine. I hated myself for it.
Hot tears slid down my cheeks. I curled up, hugging my knees, and cried until my chest hurt. At some point, the heaviness in my head pulled me under, and I didn’t wake up until the next morning.
The sound of knocking pulled me out of sleep. I groaned, still bleary-eyed, and sat up slowly. My head throbbed.
The knocking came again, sharper this time.
I frowned, already feeling a flare of anger in my chest. Damon. It had to be him.
"I swear, I cannot deal with you right now," I muttered as I dragged myself out of bed.
I yanked the door open, ready to tell him exactly that. But instead of Damon, I found myself staring at a man in a guard’s uniform, and next to him, a woman I recognized instantly.
I blinked. "Wait... I know you."
The woman smirked. "Of course you do. We worked together in the palace, remember?"
And then it hit me. Damon’s words from yesterday. He’d said he would send someone to care for me until I was ready to come back to the palace. I had thought he was bluffing. I had laughed inside at the idea, yelled at him that I didn’t want anyone.
But he’d actually done it.
My lips parted in surprise. "You’ve got to be kidding me..."
The maid, whose name was Bella, gave a little scoff as her eyes scanned me from head to toe, slow and deliberate, as though she was appraising a piece of clothing she didn’t like. Her lip curled ever so slightly, and she let out a low, mocking hum.
"So it’s true," she said, her tone a mixture of disbelief and mild amusement. "He really did send us."
She turned to the tall, broad-shouldered guard beside her and rolled her eyes in an exaggerated way, like a teenager forced to attend a boring family gathering. "Can you believe this?" she asked him, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
The guard’s expression didn’t give much away. His mouth twitched, the kind of twitch that could be a suppressed laugh or a warning to keep his temper, but he didn’t say a single word. His eyes stayed fixed somewhere over my shoulder, his posture stiff and professional.
I folded my arms across my chest, narrowing my eyes. "Why are you here?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.
Bella turned back to me, stepping forward without hesitation, her boots clicking against the wooden floor as though she owned the place. "We told you," she said, her chin tilting up. "Alpha Damon sent us to care for you." Her gaze wandered around the room, pausing on every chipped edge, every worn-out corner. She looked at my small house as though she’d just stepped into a place that hadn’t been cleaned in a decade.
Her nose wrinkled. "This is..." she paused, searching for the right word, then gave a small, pitying laugh. "Worse than I imagined."
The guard shifted his weight and followed her in, his heavy boots thudding on the floor. He was carrying a large box, the cardboard slightly creased from its weight. The box was sealed with thick tape and had no markings, but I could smell faint traces of something floral mixed with leather, clothes, maybe? Or bedding?
"Don’t touch anything," I said sharply, my voice cutting through the stale air between us.
Bella ignored me completely, her movements brisk and deliberate as she began unpacking the contents of the basket they had brought. She placed each item on the small table near the bed, ripe fruits arranged in a neat pile, bottles of supplements lined up like soldiers, a loaf of bread wrapped in white paper, and even a small jar of fresh flowers whose scent was far too cheerful for the tension in the room. She didn’t look at me once, moving with the air of someone doing a task they didn’t want but felt forced to complete.
When she was done, she brushed past me again, her shoulder deliberately pressing into mine, just enough to make me take a step back. "Move," she muttered sharply, not even bothering to hide the disdain in her voice.
My hands curled into fists at my sides, heat prickling along my skin. "You don’t have to be here..."
"Oh, I don’t want to," she interrupted, her lips stretching into a mockingly sweet smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "Taking care of a human? Please. It’s beneath me. Honestly, it’s insulting." She tossed her head like the words tasted bitter.
The guard dropped the second box on the floor, his expression neutral. Bella gave him a quick nod before turning back to me.
"I remember you," she said slowly, her smile curling into something uglier. "The quiet one. Always keeping to yourself. I should’ve guessed there was more to you."
I narrowed my eyes. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
She sauntered closer, her voice dropping as if we were sharing some secret. "Tell me, Lisa... how did you win Damon’s heart? What did you do to get him sending his own people to serve you?"
I stared at her in disbelief. "Are you serious right now?"
She leaned back slightly, pretending to think. "Hmm... let me guess. You slept with him again, didn’t you?"
My stomach turned. "You..."
She smirked wider. "Oh, or maybe you promised to be his little sex slave. Is that it? Did you get down on your knees and..."
The sound of my palm striking her cheek cut her off.
Her head snapped to the side from the force, and for a moment, the room went silent except for my sharp breathing.