Chapter 3

The next day, I left the estate alone.

Passing the West Market tavern, raucous laughter spilled into the street. A drunk's voice carried through the open door.

"Five years that Luna's been warming his bed—nothing! Then some stray bitch waltzes in with a pup, and suddenly the Alpha's got an heir. Heard the Luna's face went white as a sheet when she saw the pup!"

Another voice chimed in: "Right? If I were her, I'd hang myself. How's she got the nerve to be still breathing?"

The filth hit me like barbs, my face going pale.

Five years of this. I'd heard it countless times. But right now, something inside my chest felt carved out, my fingers going numb.

I quickened my pace, turning onto West Street. The apothecary was just ahead.

But before I got close, I spotted Killian and Bella standing outside the cosmetics shop across the street.

Bella held up a box of rouge, leaning close to show him. Killian bent his head, their postures intimate.

I immediately turned around.

"Maeve?" But Killian had already seen me.

He crossed the street with Bella, blocking my path. "What are you doing out here alone?"

Bella's soft voice followed. "Luna, did you follow us? The Alpha's just helping me adjust to the Pack—please don't misunderstand."

She pressed closer to Killian's side.

I didn't bother responding. I turned to leave.

Suddenly, a horse's scream split the air.

A slop cart spooked it—it charged straight toward us.

People scattered, screaming.

Killian's instinct kicked in—he yanked Bella hard into his arms, shielding her as they stumbled backward.

His elbow slammed into my shoulder. I staggered back, falling.

The cart flew past, missing me by inches.

The next second, an entire barrel of rancid slop dumped over my head.

The street went silent. Everyone stared.

Someone covered their nose. Others looked disgusted. Then laughter exploded.

"Oh my Goddess, isn't that the Luna?"

"Look at her—pathetic..."

I sat frozen, slop dripping down my hair.

Rotten vegetables, moldy bread crusts tangled in my hair and on my face. My vision blurred.

A few steps away, Killian steadied a shaken Bella, his eyes full of worry and tenderness.

When he finally registered my condition, he instinctively moved toward me—then seemed repulsed by the filth covering me, stepping back, frowning.

"I told you not to go out. Now look at you. Get up."

Bella coughed delicately. Killian immediately looked down at her. "Are you scared? Let's get you home."

He glanced back at me, his expression uncomfortable, impatient. "Clean yourself up and come back to the estate. Bella's not feeling well. We're taking the carriage."

Without another look, he helped Bella turn and walk away.

The carriage disappeared in a cloud of dust.

I slowly stood, and with the entire street watching, walked home step by step, covered in stinking refuse.

From West Street to the estate—half an hour on foot.

Even back at the estate, servants avoided me wherever I went, whispering and stifling laughter.

Lily saw me and screamed, rushing over. "Luna, what happened?!"

I waved her off. "Draw a bath."

Lily nodded, eyes red, and ran to make arrangements.

But the hot water that usually took fifteen minutes never came.

After a long wait, two servants finally appeared with a single bucket of lukewarm water.

"Luna, the kitchens said the Alpha ordered household expenses reviewed. Hot water's rationed. This is all they could spare..."

I looked at the pathetic bucket, barely steaming, then down at the filth coating my body. I smiled bitterly.

"Fine. This'll do."

Lily's tears spilled over. "How can the Alpha treat you like this? Even if he didn't protect you, to deny you hot water..."

"It's deliberate." My voice cut through the quiet.