Chapter 6 Knees in the Mud
Isabella’s POV
BAM!
The door swings open without a knock, I flinch so hard the chain rattles. The first thought that rushes through me is Landon coming back for more.
But then—
A woman walks in—tall, dark hair swinging like a curtain of midnight silk. She has the same cheekbones and jawline as Landon, but softer, prettier in a way that makes her dangerous rather than comforting.
Could it be possible that this was Landon’s sister, Clara? I’ve heard the name whispered in corners of the pack house before my world collapsed.
“Well, well,” she drawls, she stops at the edge of the bed, her arms folded tightly across her chest as she looks over me like I’m some disgusting piece of trash. “The rogue whore is finally conscious. Did my brother ride you hard enough to break you yet?”
Heat floods my cheeks instantly—anger, humiliation, the sick image of last night. I draw my knees tighter to my chest, trying to shield what the lace nightgown won't, but it’s useless. The fabric is transparent and she can see everything.
“Oh don’t bother covering up,” a mocking laughter escapes from her, “Trust me, we’ve all seen worse. And honestly? You don’t have much worth hiding.” She steps closer, her boots echoing on the stone floor.
“Get up.”
I don’t move.
The smile on her face vanishes now. “I said get up, bitch!”
The chain clinks as I force myself to stand up. My legs shake when I stand, and fresh pain shoots through my core. I finally rise from the bed, clutching the bed frame for balance.
“Pathetic.” She grabs the chain where it attaches to my collar and yanks hard. The metal digs into my throat, forcing a choked gasp out of me.
“Get on your fucking knees,” she orders.
I hesitate.
She yanks again—much harder this time. My knees hit the cold floor with a force that cracks and jars my teeth.
“Better for you,” she circles me slowly now, like a predator deciding where to attack first. “Look at you covered in my brother’s scent, bruised like a cheap whore. Did you beg for it? Or did you just lie there and take it like the spineless rogue you are?”
My throat burns with so much I wanted to say, but no words came. What could I say?
“Answer me when I ask you a question!”She barks suddenly, her fingers fists into my hair and she forces my head back so I’m forced to meet her gaze.
“I… didn’t beg,” I rasp. My voice comes out barely above a whisper.
“Of course you didn’t. Rogues never do, they just spread their legs and hope it ends quickly.” She releases me with a shove that sends me sprawling forward onto my palms. “Crawl.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” She tugs the chain like a leash. “Crawl to the door…because we’re going to take a little walk.”
My stomach drops.
A walk outside? Like this?
“Please—”
“Move,” she tugs the chain harder again, and pain flares in my neck. “Or I’ll drag you by the hair.”
Without hesitation, I drop to all fours. The lace rides up, exposing everything as I begin to crawl—slow, humiliating inches across the rug, then onto the hard corridor stone.
Servants pass as we make our way out, some stare. Some just smirk and look away but no one helps. Clara walks ahead, the chain loose in her hand like she’s leading a dog.
The moment we step outside, rain greets us—cold, steady, turning the courtyard to mud. Clara leads me past the main gates to the training yard’s edge, and mud sucks at my palms and knees instantly. It’s thick, cold, reeking of disgusting horse shit.
After what feels like eternity she finally stops beside a row of filthy stone and wooden buckets. “Start scrubbing,” she says, dropping the chain. “Everything must be sparkling clean after you’re done. On your hands and knees…now!”
I stare at the buckets, the brushes are worn out. How the hell was I supposed to use an old brush to scrub off this disgusting stable?
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” she snaps.
My hands shake as I reach for the nearest brush. It's heavy, the wooden handle splintered. I dip it in the bucket of water and I start scrubbing the nearest stable.
The stone is rough. Bristles scrape my already raw palms, mud splashes up my arms, my chest, my face. Meanwhile, Clara leans against a post, her arms firmly crossed across her chest, watching.
“Faster!” Her voice shatters through my thoughts. “My brother doesn’t like lazy whores.”
I scrub harder as my knees sink deeper into mud, it seeps through the lace nightgown. Rain drips from my hair into my eyes, mixing with tears I can’t stop—
Before I can recover from the pain, Clara kicks a bucket over. Freezing water cascades over my back, and I gasp, arching.
“Oops,” she says sweetly, “You were looking a little too clean so I needed to remind you of your place.” She grabs another bucket of water and dumps it over my head. Water floods my mouth, my nose.
“Say thank you,” she grabs my chin, forcing my face up to meet her gaze head-on.
My lips tremble. “What?”
“Thank me for making you clean, filthy rogue whore.”
“Thank… you, Clara,” I whisper.
“Louder.”
“Thank you, Clara,” I choke out, “for making this worthless dirty rogue clean.”
A victorious smile curves at her lips, then she grabs my hair and shoves my face down into the mud. Cold muck fills my mouth, my nose. I struggle, but her grip is too strong against my weak strength.
“Say it again.”
I can’t breathe. Panic claws my chest.
“Didn’t you hear me? Fuckin say I—“
“Clara. Enough!”
An unfamiliar voice cuts through the rain—calm, lethal. Clara freezes instantly, her hand tightens in my hair for one heartbeat, then releases.
I lift my head, gasping for air to see a strange woman standing at the edge of the yard. Tall, dark brown hair pulled back severely from her face. Her expression is gentle—almost kind but the look in her eyes is sharp enough to cut through the downpour.
“Sarah,” Clara hisses, her mocking smile widening like she’s just been handed a gift. “This doesn’t concern you…so leave.”
“Doesn’t it?” She steps forward. Her boots sink into the mud without a sound, deliberate and unhurried. “She’s collared to your brother, and that makes her his property, not yours to break for entertainment.”
A bitter laughter tears out of Clara—short, laced with venom. “I see you want to take turns with the rogue whore? Huh?”