Aria's POV
His boot connected with my bucket, spilling dirty water across the floor I'd just cleaned.
"Watch where you put that, omega," Daemon said coldly, not even looking at me. His friends laughed as they walked past, heading to breakfast.
I stared at his back, my heart shattering into smaller pieces. Last night, his hands had been gentle on my face. His lips had promised me everything. Now, in the morning light, I was invisible again.
The mate bond twisted painfully in my chest, confused. It didn't understand why our mate treated us like garbage when just hours ago he'd held us like we mattered.
"Clean that up before someone slips," Beta Marcus barked, stepping over the spreading puddle without a second glance.
I dropped to my knees and started mopping. My eyes burned with unshed tears, but I refused to let them fall. Not here. Not where everyone could see.
Through the dining hall doors, I heard Daemon's laugh. Rich and carefree, like he didn't have a mate crying on the floor because of him.
Maybe last night was a dream. Maybe I'd imagined the whole thing—the kiss, his touch, the way he'd made the bond sing between us.
But no. The mark was still there on my neck, hidden under my collar. Small and faint since he hadn't claimed me properly, but real. So painfully real.
The morning dragged on forever. I scrubbed floors, served breakfast, washed dishes until my hands cracked and bled. Every time I caught a glimpse of Daemon, he was surrounded by she-wolves. Laughing. Flirting. Touching their arms like it meant nothing.
And worst of all was Celeste. Beautiful, perfect Celeste who hung on his every word, her hand possessively on his shoulder.
"Isn't he amazing?" she gushed to her friends right in front of me as I refilled their water glasses. "When he's Alpha, I'll be the most powerful Luna in the territory."
The bond flared with jealous agony. My wolf whimpered, wanting to challenge her, to fight for our mate.
But what could I fight with? I was nothing. Nobody. Just like Daemon said.
"Aria." Celeste's voice cut through my thoughts. "This water is warm. Bring me cold water. And don't mess it up this time."
"Yes, Beta Celeste," I whispered, taking the glass.
Her amber eyes glittered with something mean. "You know, you look especially pathetic today. Rough night?"
Did she know? Could she somehow sense what happened between Daemon and me?
"I'm fine," I muttered, hurrying away before she could say more.
The day finally ended. I dragged myself to my tiny room, every muscle screaming. My mattress was thin and lumpy, my blanket threadbare. But it was mine. The only space in the entire packhouse that belonged to me.
I curled up on the bed, pulling the blanket over my head, and finally let myself cry.
This was my life now. Years of this stretching ahead—watching him with other females, being invisible, pretending my heart wasn't being ripped apart every single day.
Maybe I should have said no last night. Maybe I should have chosen dignity over this torture.
A soft knock on my door made me freeze.
Three taps. Pause. Two more taps.
My heart stopped. Then started racing.
The door opened slowly, and Daemon slipped inside, closing it quickly behind him. In the darkness, his eyes glowed faintly—his wolf present and hungry.
"Did you lock it?" he asked quietly.
I shook my head, unable to speak. He locked it, then crossed the tiny room in two strides.
"I know today was hard," he said, sitting on the edge of my bed. "But you understand why, right? I can't acknowledge you in public. Not yet."
"Not yet," I repeated numbly. The words felt hollow.
His hand cupped my face, thumb wiping away my tears. "Hey. Look at me."
I forced myself to meet his eyes. In the dim moonlight from my small window, he looked different. Softer. Almost like the male from last night instead of the cruel stranger from this morning.
"I know what you're thinking," he said. "That I don't care. That yesterday meant nothing. But you're wrong."
"Then why?" My voice cracked. "Why did you kick my bucket? Why did you laugh with them while I—"
"Because they were watching." His jaw clenched. "Dad was right there. If I'd shown you any kindness, any attention, they would have questioned it. They would have started looking too close."
He pulled me toward him, and I hated how my body immediately melted into his touch. The bond sang with relief, drowning out my hurt and anger.
"Three years," he whispered against my hair. "Just give me three years. When I'm Alpha, I'll have real power. I can make my own choices then. I can change things."
"Change things how?"
"I can claim you properly." His lips brushed my temple. "I can make you my Luna, and no one will be able to question it. But right now, I'm still under Dad's authority. If he found out about us, he'd force a rejection. He'd rather see me weak than mated to an omega."
I wanted to believe him. Desperately wanted his words to be true.
"Trust me," Daemon said, tilting my chin up. "Can you do that? Can you trust me for three years?"
The bond pulled at me, making every cell in my body scream YES. Making me forget how he'd hurt me today. Making me believe in his promises even though a small voice in my head whispered warnings.
"I trust you," I heard myself say.
His smile was relieved and victorious all at once. "That's my girl."
Then he kissed me, and the world disappeared. His hands tangled in my hair, his body pressing mine into the thin mattress. The bond exploded between us, pleasure and pain mixing until I couldn't tell the difference.
"You're mine," he breathed between kisses. "Say it."
"I'm yours," I gasped.
"Only mine. Forever."
"Forever."
He claimed me thoroughly, whispering promises into my skin. Promises of a future together. Promises that things would be different. Promises that made me forget—at least for a few hours—that come morning, he'd treat me like trash again.
When he finally left, slipping out of my room like a thief in the night, I lay in the darkness feeling the ache of the bond and the ache between my legs.
Three years. I could survive three years of this. I could endure the public humiliation if it meant having these secret nights.
I had to believe it was enough. Because without this hope, I had nothing.
My hand drifted to my stomach, and I sent up a silent prayer to the Moon Goddess: Please let his promises be true. Please let him choose me in the end.
But as I drifted off to sleep, that small warning voice whispered again:
What if three years wasn't the beginning of your happiness?
What if it was just the beginning of your destruction?