CHAPTER 6
Emma's POV
I barely slept a wink last night. How could I? Every time I closed my eyes, their angry faces flashed in my head. Those cold, hateful glares—like they wanted to burn me alive for killing their Luna.
The memory stuck in my mind like spilled wine that wouldn't wipe clean. My heart still bled from what they did to me, and my skin was still sore from all the torture I went through at the hands of Alpha Damon.
How can someone I loved be this cruel? I don't recall loving someone being a crime. So why am I paying so dearly for it?
All I wanted was for him to love me back. I'd always dreamt about being his mate. I worshipped the very ground he walked on. I would've given my life for Alpha Damon. That's how badly I wanted him in my life—but not at the expense of Camila's life.
Yeah, I was jealous and angry when Damon introduced her as his Luna to the pack. It felt like I didn't even exist to the Moon Goddess. After years of praying to her, begging her to make Damon my mate, she had other plans for me—terrible ones.
Camila just had to die, and they pinned her death on me.
I never thought my life would end up like this. I knew it wasn't perfect. Not even close. I was just a slave—cleaning, cooking, running errands. But I always kept my head down and lived as best I could. Never hurt anyone. Never even wished bad on anyone.
And what did I get for it? Betrayal.
Alpha Damon didn't even think twice. He saw Camila dead, saw her blood on my hands, and threw me into the dungeon without a second thought. No investigation, no questions. Just decided it was my fault. I always thought he was the smartest man I knew. Turns out, he's just a cruel idiot.
Think about it—if I killed her, why would I hang around? Why wouldn't I run? But no, logic doesn't matter when you're blinded by grief. So he tortured me. Days without food, without water. Stuck in that disgusting hole, stabbed and beaten until I couldn't cry anymore. I prayed for death every single day. But it never came.
Even my best friend Andrea, the one person I thought would stand by me, turned her back on me. She looked me in the eyes and called me a murderer. I didn't know her that well, but I thought we were friends. And friends don't do that. I'll never forgive her.
I'll never forgive him—or the Full Moon Pack—for what they did to me. They'll pay. Every last one of them. I'll make sure of it, even if it's the last thing I do.
"Nice room," a voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
Leo.
I didn't even sense him coming. I'm a werewolf—we're supposed to be able to sense people. But I didn't. Maybe it's because my body's broken.
You know what they say—out of the frying pan and into the fire. That's my life right now. I never thought I'd see a hybrid before I died. I'd only heard stories about them—their super strength, their speed. But I'd never believed they were real.
At the Full Moon Pack, we didn't believe in hybrids. We thought they were just myths.
I mean, how do you explain a creature with the abilities of both a vampire and a werewolf? I didn't blame anyone for doubting their existence. I felt the same way until I saw Leo with my own eyes yesterday. Honestly, it still feels like a dream even now.
But why would Leo bring me here? To a place full of vampires?
I wish I could just forget how they looked at me when Leo brought me in—so much anger. They were pissed off and definitely didn't want a werewolf anywhere near their precious vampire domain.
But honestly, can you blame them? Vampires and werewolves have hated each other since forever. To us, they're just creepy walking corpses that should've stayed dead instead of parading around drinking blood. And to them? We're just savage dogs with bad manners.
They think they're better than us—faster, stronger, more elegant or whatever. But deep down, they can't stand that we don't fear them. Let's be real, though—we hate each other equally. So yeah, we had this unspoken agreement: stay out of each other's way. It worked fine... until yesterday.
Then Leo, the hybrid psycho, decided to screw everything up—and dragged me into his mess while he was at it. His smirk was enough to make my blood boil.
"How's your new home?" he asked, jolting me from my thoughts again.
I didn't answer. I couldn't even look at him. This "home" was nothing like my old one back at the Full Moon Pack—not that it was great, but at least it wasn't crawling with vampires who looked like they wanted to rip me apart.
Leo just shrugged like he didn't care. "Not in the mood to talk? Fine. But get up. Breakfast is at seven, and I don't wait."
Before I could react, he yanked me off the bed. Pain shot through my body, and I winced, trying to hold back a cry. Every muscle felt like it was on fire.
I'd almost forgotten why I was even here. The last thing I wanted was to serve another "master" after everything Damon put me through. But here I was. And Leo? He wasn't any better. Cold, demanding, heartless.
Dragging my feet toward the kitchen, I could feel his eyes on me the entire way, like he was waiting for me to mess up. His expression was blank, but his presence was suffocating.
When he said I'd start working as his "slave" immediately, I thought he was joking. I mean, who expects someone barely out of a dungeon to start cooking and cleaning? But nope, Leo wasn't joking. Turns out, assholes are assholes—wolf or vampire.
When I finally made it to the kitchen, I was greeted by Leo's cook. She was an older vampire, probably in her sixties, but looked like she could crush bricks with her bare hands.
The glare she gave me was soul-crushing.
Before I could even say hi, she shoved a pot into my arms, ignoring the bruises that were still fresh. "King Leo wants frozen chicken white pepper soup for breakfast," she snapped. "You've got 30 minutes. Don't screw it up." Then she stormed off like she had more important things to do than babysit me.
Frozen chicken white pepper soup? What even is that? I've cooked for Damon's family my whole life, and not once had I heard of it. I just stood there, clutching the pot like it might whisper the recipe to me.
"Excuse me," I managed to say, grabbing the cook's arm before she left. Big mistake. She yanked her arm back so hard, I stumbled into the counter, slamming my hand against the edge.
"Five minutes gone," she said, glancing at her watch. "Twenty-five left." Then she was gone.
I wanted to scream. Vampires already hated werewolves, but this wasn't just hate. She hated me because Leo had given me her job—like I wanted it. Like I could've just said no to the almighty hybrid.
Shaking, I started rummaging through the kitchen. I didn't even know what I was looking for. My brain was fried, and my hands wouldn't stop shaking.
"Need some help?"
The soft voice startled me. I turned to see a vampire girl about my age. She was tall and pale, with this weirdly calm energy that felt... nice.
"I'm Cynthia," she said, smiling as she walked over.
"Uh... I'm Em—"
"Emma," she cut me off, like she already knew. "Have you made this before?"
I shook my head. "Not even close."
Without saying another word, she started pulling ingredients out of the fridge like she'd done this a hundred times. Meanwhile, I just stood there like an idiot, watching her.
Cynthia didn't just help—she saved me. She walked me through every step of the recipe, even though she couldn't taste the food herself. Vampires can't eat, only drink blood.
When she was done, she handed me a spoonful to taste. It was incredible, way better than anything I'd ever made.
"Thank you," I whispered.
She just smiled and disappeared as quickly as she'd appeared.
As I was about to take the soup to Leo, the old cook stormed back in. She eyed the dish suspiciously.
"You made this?" she asked, her voice full of doubt.
"Yes," I said, meeting her gaze.
Her face twisted like she'd just bitten into a lemon. Without a word, she snatched the tray and marched off.
I let out a shaky breath. But as I stood there, one thought kept repeating in my mind: Is this my life now?
And honestly? The thought scared the hell out of me.
……..