Chapter 31 Chapter 31
ANNA'S POV
The laughter stopped immediately after I insulted one of the Alpha Kings.
The room went dead silent.
“What did you just say?” the scarred king asked, lowering his cup in shock.
I met his eyes so he knew I wa GTs talking directly to him. “You heard me,” I added, my voice shaking but still clear enough for everyone to hear. “You sit there, drunk and full of yourself, laughing at people you think are beneath you. You call yourself an Alpha King—but all I see is a coward hiding "behind" a crown.”
Gasps filled the hall.
One king choked on his wine. Another stood so fast that his chair scraped loudly across the floor. My stepmother’s face went pale.
“How dare you—” the scarred king began, but I cut him off.
“No,” I snapped. “How dare you! How dare you treat women like they’re nothing but toys you can use and throw away? You think ordering a girl to dance for you makes you powerful? It doesn’t. It just makes you disgusting.”
“Anna!” my stepmother’s sharp voice cut through the silence.
I ignored her.
I turned back to the kings. “You’re all the same,” I said. “You hide behind your crowns and titles, but you’re just weak men pretending to be gods.”
The silence that followed was intense.
My stepmother rushed forward, bowing before the kings. “Your Majesties,” she said quickly, her voice sweet but shaking. “Forgive her! She’s nothing but a foolish girl who doesn’t know her place. I swear she won’t live past tonight if you allow me to handle this.”
I froze. She said it so easily, like she’d been waiting for the moment—to see me gone.
“She speaks for your pack,” the scarred king growled. “We’ll remember this humiliation.”
My stepmother lowered her head again. “Please, my king, give me the honor of punishing her myself. She’s not worth your anger.”
Her words burned through me more than the slap she’d given earlier. She wasn’t begging to save me—she was begging to make me suffer herself.
She turned to me, her eyes filled with anger as she spoke. “Get up and dance for the Alpha Kings now!”
“I won’t!”
Her jaw clenched. “Get up, Anna!”
“I said no!”
“Anna!”
“I’m not your puppet!” I shouted, my voice shaking. “Not anymore!”
Her face twisted into something hateful. “You ungrateful little rat,” she hissed. “You should have died with your mother.”
The words hit me like a knife. The kings murmured in surprise, some even laughing at the drama and my embarrassment. I felt my throat tighten, but I refused to cry, not in front of her.
Then one of the kings—the scarred one I’d insulted—rose from his chair. His boots echoed against the floor as he walked toward me.
I stayed still, staring up at him.
He stopped right in front of me and looked down with a cold smirk. “You’re so bold for a maid,” he said quietly. “Maybe you need a reminder of who’s in charge here.”
He reached out and grabbed my chin, forcing my face up. His hand smelled like smoke and wine.
“Let me go!” I screamed, trying to pull back.
He grinned. “Or what?”
Something snapped inside me, and I shoved his hand away—hard in anger.
The sound echoed across the room.
Gasps followed.
The guards moved instantly—swords drawn, their boots pounding the floor as they surrounded me. One pressed a blade to my neck. My breath stopped, but I didn’t move.
“Touch me,” I dared him quietly, glaring at the king, “and I swear I’ll bite your hand off.”
“Enough!” my stepmother shouted suddenly—but not out of fear for me. Her voice was sharp with irritation. “She’s embarrassing my pack! Your Majesties, please, allow me to punish her myself. I swear I’ll make her scream for forgiveness before the night ends.”
The scarred king turned to her, smiling wickedly. “Then make her dance. If she refuses again, I’ll make her bleed instead.”
My stepmother’s lips curved into a cruel smile. “Gladly.”
Her gaze turned to me. “You heard the kings. Dance.”
I stared at her. “No.”
“Dance, or I’ll drag you myself.”
“Then drag me.”
Her face twisted with anger. She raised her hand to slap me again, but one of the guards stepped between us, waiting for the order to strike.
The room buzzed with tension. Some of the kings whispered to each other, amused by the scene. Others looked ready to order my death just to end the noise.
“Such a shame,” one of them muttered. “She’s got a pretty face. Shame to waste it.”
“Kill her then,” another said lazily. “We didn’t come here to argue with a servant.”
My stepmother smirked faintly. “If that’s your command, I’ll handle it now.”
Her voice sounded too eager. Like she’d been waiting years to hear someone give her permission.
I took a slow breath and stood up, refusing to let her see fear on my face. “You can try,” I said quietly. “But if you want me dead, you’ll have to do it yourself.”
The hall went still again.
My stepmother’s lips trembled slightly—not from fear, but from rage. “You think I won’t?” she hissed.
She took one step toward me.
And then—
The heavy doors creaked open.
Every head turned.
The guards straightened immediately. The kings’ voices fell silent.
For a second—just one—I thought it was Elijah. My chest tightened painfully. Maybe he had come. Maybe he’d finally do something.
I turned fast, hope flaring in my chest—
And then it shattered.
It wasn’t Elijah.
It wasn’t Damon.
It was Amanda.
She walked in like she owned the room. Her long silver gown sparkled under the light, hugging her body perfectly. Her golden hair was pinned high, her lips painted the same cold red as blood.
My heart dropped to my stomach.
Of course it was her.
Amanda was my best friend—at least, she used to be. The girl who used to share her food with me when we were little. The girl who promised we’d always protect each other.
Now she was Luna, arrogant, powerful, and cruel. Her eyes found mine immediately, and her smile vanished.
“What’s going on here?” she asked, her voice calm but sharp enough to silence everyone.
The kings began to speak at once, their words overlapping in anger. They complained about my behavior—how I had disrespected them, insulted their crowns, and refused to dance.
Amanda listened quietly, her face unreadable.
When they finished, she turned slowly to me.
Her expression didn’t change—but her eyes were colder than I’d ever seen them.
“Is that true?” she asked softly.
I didn’t answer.
She looked at my stepmother, then back at me. “Then I’ll make this simple.”
She stepped closer, her heels clicking against the marble floor. “Anna,” she said, her voice low and cruel. “Dance for the kings right now.”
I shook my head slowly.
"I win"
Amanda smiled faintly—an empty, chilling smile.
“Then you’ll die where you stand.”
My heart skipped a beat.