Chapter 29 Life Before The Storm
MEIRA
I kept cleaning the garden even after my arms began to ache, even after the sun shifted slightly and the only thing I could think of were those blue eyes, the warmth I felt on my cheek, and the last stare before he disappeared.
The rake dragged against the soil with a dull, scraping sound that settled into my skull. Every movement felt heavier than the last, but stopping wasn’t an option. It never was.
You’ve got this, Meira, Roxy said gently, her voice threading through my thoughts like a thin ribbon of comfort.
I exhaled through my nose, lips pressed tight. “Yeah,” I muttered. “Maybe.”
I couldn’t do much, all I could do was breathe and just let the universe take control. The Moon Goddess had been doing that for years now, and my life had been like this. I was ready for whatever—or so I thought.
The garden looked perfect when I was done. Too perfect. Neat rows, smooth soil, not a leaf out of place. And yet, standing there, staring at it, I felt nothing resembling accomplishment. Only a familiar hollowness, the kind that told me my effort would be erased soon enough.
I turned back toward the servants’ quarters, my steps slow, shoulders stiff. By the time I pushed the door open, my body felt like it belonged to someone else.
Jacinthe sprang up the moment she saw me.
“Meira?” Her brows pulled together. “What happened? I’ve been waiting forever. Why did it take you so long just to clean the garden?”
I shut the door behind me, resting my forehead against the wood for a brief second before turning around. “Emily,” I said simply. “And her owl-looking minions.”
That was all it took.
Jacinthe scoffed. “Of course.”
I crossed the room and sat on the edge of my bed, my hands trembling slightly as I rested them on my knees. “They waited until I was done,” I continued quietly. “Then poured dirt all over it. Every single part. Just stood there watching while I cleaned it again.”
My throat tightened. I swallowed hard. “I don’t know what I did to her to make her want my life to be this… unbearable.”
Jacinthe studied my face for a moment, then sighed. “You know why.”
I glanced up. “Do I?”
She shrugged. “Because you’re prettier. And—” she waved a hand vaguely, “—you’re attractive. That’s enough reason for girls like her.”
I let out a short, humorless chuckle, shaking my head. “Attractive?”
“Yes,” Jacinthe said firmly. “Why else would she pick on you? You’re competition.”
This time I laughed. Not softly. Not kindly. The sound burst out of me, sharp and mocking, almost ugly. “Competition?” I repeated. “The last time I checked, I wasn’t just the wolf accused of killing her aunt’s husband—I’m also a cursed hybrid. A mistake that shouldn’t exist. And now I’m competition?”
Jacinthe opened her mouth, clearly ready to argue, but I lifted a hand. “Please. Don’t try to back it up. Maybe she just hates that I’m not afraid of her.”
Jacinthe hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yeah… maybe. You didn’t give her the reaction she wanted.”
I stood and went to bathe, scrubbing my skin until it stung, until the water turned cold and my fingers wrinkled. When I dressed, it was the same dull grey gown as always. Nothing special. Nothing worth noticing. But it was clean. Dry. That had to count for something.
I had barely sat back on the bed when Jacinthe spoke again. “We need to head to the kitchen.”
I arched a brow. “Why?”
“We’ll be given the last orders. The ceremony is about to start.”
The word ceremony slid straight into my chest, pressing against something already too sensitive. Blue eyes flashed uninvited through my mind. Calm. Sharp. Unreadable. I shoved the thought away so fast it made my head ache.
I hope he finds his mate tonight, I thought stubbornly. I hope he chooses her quickly. Maybe then this pull—this thing I don’t understand—will finally disappear.
“MEIRA.”
Jacinthe’s voice snapped me back.
“What?” I said, a little too sharply.
She narrowed her eyes. “What were you thinking about?”
“Nothing,” I replied, rolling my eyes.
“Hm.” She tilted her head. “Are you sure?”
I gave her a look. “What else would it be?”
Her lips curved, mischievous despite everything. “Maybe you were thinking what I was thinking.”
Confusion flickered through me. “And what exactly were you thinking?”
She leaned closer, glancing around as if the walls themselves might be listening. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I was thinking… we steal some spice from the kitchen.” Another glance. “And put it in their underwear drawers. So they feel the sting.”
I stared at her for half a second before laughter spilled out of me—real laughter, loud and unrestrained. “Are you serious, Jacinthe? That’s ridiculous.”
“She thinks she’s untouchable,” Jacinthe said stubbornly. “We need to frustrate her too, since she’s so obsessed with frustrating you.”
I shook my head, still smiling faintly. “First of all, that’s not what I was thinking about. Second, I would be banished without a second thought if anyone found out. And third… I can’t do that.”
She sighed dramatically. “Then you’re not ready to defeat her.”
“I don’t care about defeating her,” I said quietly. “I just want her out of my way.”
Jacinthe studied me, then nodded. “If you say so. Come on. We should go.”
We walked toward the kitchen together, our footsteps echoing faintly down the corridor. Each step felt heavier than the last, my stomach tightening with every breath. Tonight meant Claribel. Anastasia. Eyes that never missed a weakness.
But nothing prepared me for what happened the moment I crossed the kitchen threshold.
A hand struck my face.
The sound was sharp, loud, final.
Pain exploded across my cheek, white-hot and blinding. My head snapped to the side as I stumbled back, barely catching myself before I fell. My ears rang, my vision swimming as I lifted my gaze.
Lady Rose stood before me, chest heaving, eyes blazing with fury.
For a second, the entire room went silent.