34 Inner Depth

**Annabel's POV**

Morning arrived, and with it came the same hollow realization as the day before—Darius wasn't in my bed. 

The cold emptiness of his absence spread through the room like an unwelcome visitor. Sitting up, the events of the previous night surged into my mind, a kaleidoscope of emotions washing over me. 

A faint flutter of butterflies danced in my stomach at the memory of his touch, his voice, his presence. Yet, that same memory brought with it a gnawing unease. What did it all mean? Where did it leave us? The questions loomed over me like storm clouds, heavy with uncertainty.

I shook the thoughts away, unwilling to dwell on assumptions. With a sigh, I got out of bed, determined to ready myself for the day. 

Darius's orders from the night before still held weight; no one dared to barge into my room that morning to humiliate me. It was a small mercy, but one I clung to. 

My preparations were swift, mechanical, as my mind lingered elsewhere. When I finally stepped out, Michelle was already waiting by Darius’ door.

She stood there, her posture sharp with scorn, a look of disdain flickering in her eyes. But when her gaze landed on me, she masked it with a smile.

"Back to work, I see," she remarked, her voice carrying a false cheeriness that grated against my ears.

I met her gaze but said nothing. There was no point in engaging. Michelle seemed content to play pretend, ignoring the harsh truth of our situation. 

Perhaps she thought it easier to forget that we were slaves in Blackwood, mere possessions in the eyes of its ruler. I wasn’t going to remind her—reality had a way of sinking in eventually, no matter how hard one tried to escape it.

As we waited for the doors to open, Michelle’s mask slipped, and the sharpness returned to her tone. "I honestly thought you'd be in his bed," she said with a sneer. 

"But I guess you weren’t worth that to him. Just a pretty face to take to an event and show off." Her words dripped with malice, each syllable designed to cut.

I turned to her, my chest tightening. Anger simmered beneath the surface, but I held it back. Michelle wasn’t worth it—not her bitterness, not her attempts to provoke me. Still, I couldn’t let her words go unanswered.

"Michelle," I began, my voice calm but firm, "we’re all in the same shoes here. None of us are free. We’re branded, owned, and bound to his majesty. You’d do well to come to terms with that reality instead of antagonizing me for your frustrations." 

I stepped closer, my gaze steady, unwavering. "At least you have your mate. At least you have your mother-in-law. Have you even checked on them since you’ve been here? Or are you too busy focusing on me to see what you still have left?"

Her face twisted with anger, and a low growl escaped her lips. But I didn’t flinch. I had said my piece, and whether or not she chose to face the truth was up to her.

"Don't speak to me about that weak asshole and his good-for-nothing mother," Michelle hissed, her words cutting through the air like a whip. Her eyes glinted with unfiltered bitterness. "The bitch wouldn't even let me assume Luna's duties. 

I was practically her shadow, running behind her like some servant. Good riddance to both of them. I have no business with them. If you care so much, they’re your in-laws too—why don’t you check on them?"

Her venomous words struck a nerve, and I couldn’t hide my surprise. All this time in Ironbridge, I’d thought she was content—happy even. 

She had spent so much energy bullying me, tormenting me, making my life a living hell. Who would’ve guessed she had her own resentments boiling beneath the surface?

"It says, 'till death do us part,' and Maxwell is gone now," I said, my voice steady but with an edge of defiance. 

"They aren’t my family anymore. Besides, his precious mother kicked me out long before the Black Gate men came for us. So forgive me if I don’t feel inclined to play caretaker to someone who threw me aside."

Before Michelle could respond, the heavy doors creaked open, interrupting our tense exchange. My heart jolted as Darius stepped through the threshold. 

His imposing figure filled the doorway, dressed impeccably as always, but his expression was far from welcoming. 

His eyes burned with an undercurrent of anger, though I couldn’t tell if it was directed at me, Michelle, or someone—or something—else entirely.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," I greeted quickly, lowering my head in a respectful bow. 

Darius was unpredictable at the best of times, a volatile mix of fire and ice. One wrong word could turn his mood sour, and I wasn’t about to test his patience this morning.

He said nothing, only stepped aside, motioning for us to enter. Michelle and I exchanged a brief glance before moving past him into the room.

The sight that greeted me made my chest tighten. A lavish breakfast spread adorned the table, every dish meticulously prepared and plated. But it wasn’t the food that caught my attention—it was the two young women standing by the table, their presence impossible to ignore. 

I recognised them immediately. They were new captives, ones I’d been assigned to assist when they first arrived. Their fresh, wide-eyed appearances had once been a stark contrast to the weariness that clung to the rest of us. And now, here they were, serving Darius.

Replaced.

The realization hit me with a force I hadn’t anticipated. The pang in my chest was sharp, painful, but I swallowed it down, refusing to let it show. Was last night a farewell? A final performance before I was discarded, no longer useful? 

My gaze flicked around the room, noting Leah’s absence. She, too, had been dismissed. What would happen to us now? What was our place?