Chapter 2

The weight of Damian's Alpha command buckled my knees, but I gritted my teeth and stood firm.

For the first time, impatience flashed across his face. "Don't force me to call the guards," he said.

Scarlett tore the crown from her head and hurled it at my chest.

Its silver leaves sliced open my existing wound, my blood soaking into the carvings my mother had made.

"Take it. I want nothing tainted by a fake Luna," she snorted.

I pressed the crown to my chest and stepped backward.

Every trace of warmth from Damian vanished from our mind-link before he shut the connection entirely.

My mind went blank.

He turned his back to me. "Report to the Omega servant quarters. Learn your new place starting tonight."

"Get down and scrub the floors," the head servant ordered, tossing a rag at my feet without a glance. "The future Luna will not tolerate water marks."

The door to Damian's chamber was wide open.

This used to be our shared room. The lunar embroidered canopy I'd stitched hung torn on the floor, and Scarlett's red battle robe occupied my old closet.

I bent down and picked up the rag. "I'm not supposed to clean this chamber. Pack rules say the guards handle the Alpha's private quarters."

The servant head dropped her voice. "Rules changed. Ms. Hayes figured you know every corner of this place, so it's yours now."

The bathroom door swung open. Scarlett stepped out wearing only Damian's black shirt, fresh bonding marks darkening her neck.

The dull ache from the mate bond made my palms sweat.

Scarlett must have caught the shift in my scent, because her smile spread. "You smell that?"

I dipped the rag into the basin. "Smell what?"

She walked right up to me and shoved her sleeve toward my face. "The Alpha's scent on me. Damian slept peacefully last night, free of the burden of a wolfless Omega."

I pressed the rag into the water, sending ripples across the surface. "Move."

"How dare you talk to me like that." She kicked the basin over, soaking my skirt. "I live in his suite now. I soothe his Alpha instincts with my wolf. What do you have left? Not even a mind-link."

I stood up, and then said, "I'm not your servant."

Scarlett clapped her hands, and two young she-wolves walked in carrying a bowl of soup.

"Prove you're still useful," she said coldly. "Take this soup to the training grounds, lower yourself before me to hand it over, and admit to all warriors that you were never fit to be Luna."

I started to walk away, but Damian's command hit me from the doorway. "Do what she says," he said firmly.

He stood outside with his training jacket on and his hair still damp.

I looked at him. "You heard her. She wants me to lower myself before her."

"She's helping you adapt to the new situation," he said.

"Adapting to being humiliated?"

"Adapting to not having privileges anymore."

Scarlett leaned into his side, feigning hurt. "Alpha, I only want the pack to accept the new order. Sierra always plays the victim, as if I've wronged her."

Damian rubbed his brow. "Sierra, don't make this difficult for her."

I gave a dry laugh and picked up the bowl of soup.

The heat traveled through the bowl and hit the wounds on my hand, pain shooting up my arm.

"Make it difficult for her?" I sneered.

Damian's face went dark. "Don't push me."

*****

I carried the soup to the training grounds. Every warrior halted to watch me.

Scarlett stood by the platform and motioned for me to come closer. "Get lower. A future Luna doesn't bend for others."

I stood frozen, refusing to budge.

"Sierra." Damian's command came from behind.

I slowly lowered myself to the ground.

As my knees hit the stone floor, some looked away, while others snickered.

Scarlett reached for the bowl, then deliberately let go the moment her fingers touched it.

The burning hot soup poured over my arm. My skin instantly flushed red.

She stumbled back, feigning shock as she covered her mouth.

"Oh no, I slipped. You don't blame me, do you, Sierra?" she said.

Damian hurried over.

My first thought wasn't to tend to my burn. I looked to see if he would reach for me, but he didn't.

He went straight to Scarlett and steadied her by the shoulder. "Did you get burned?"

Scarlett held out her hand to him. "No, but she scared me. She just glared at me. I was afraid she'd throw the soup back."

I looked down at my arm, the burning pain digging deeper and deeper into my skin.

Damian finally turned to look at me. "I'll get you to see the healer," he said.

"I'll go myself," I replied.

"Sierra, don't give me that attitude."

I turned and walked off, his footsteps following close behind.

He grabbed my wrist, avoiding my burn but keeping a firm grip. "Your foster mother Martha has lived in the Healer Hall for years. The pack provides all her herbs, lodging and meals."

My shoulders tensed. "What are you trying to say?" I asked.

Damian looked down at me, his voice lower. "Don't push me, or I'll have to rethink whether your foster mom gets to stay."

I looked up at him. "Are you threatening me with Martha?"

"I'm just reminding you that the pack doesn't keep anyone useless."

Scarlett stood behind him, taking her time blowing on her soup.

"Sierra, it's not that hard to swallow your pride," she said. "You used to tend to Damian's medicine and humble yourself all the time."

I yanked my wrist free, turning to Damian. "I'll do my servant duties. Leave Martha out of this."

Damian let go of my wrist. "Then learn to know your place."