Chapter 67 068
Chapter 68
Thalia's POV
The days blurred together after that first week.
Wake up at dawn. Work in the kitchen until every surface was clean and every meal prepared. Eat the leftovers after everyone else had been served. Collapse into bed exhausted. Repeat.
The collar became a constant reminder of my status. Heavy around my neck, impossible to ignore. Sometimes I'd catch myself touching it unconsciously, checking if it was still there.
It was always still there.
My mother handled it better than I did. She'd spent thirty years in this pack. Knew how to keep her head down and follow orders without complaint. She moved through the work with quiet efficiency.
I struggled more. Every order felt like submission. Every task felt like proof that Varian had won.
Sarah, the older woman who supervised the kitchen, noticed.
"You're making this harder than it needs to be," she told me one morning while we prepared breakfast.
"How so?"
"By fighting it mentally. I can see it in your face. Every time someone gives you an instruction, you bristle. That only makes the time go slower."
"I'm doing the work."
"You're doing the work while resenting every second of it. That's exhausting. Learn to separate yourself from the tasks. Do what needs doing without attaching emotion to it."
"That sounds like giving up."
"That sounds like surviving. There's a difference."
I didn't respond but I thought about her words throughout the day. Maybe she was right. Maybe fighting every moment internally was just making this worse.
Two weeks into our probation, Varian summoned us to his office.
We stood in front of his desk while he reviewed reports about our behavior and work performance.
"You've been compliant so far," he observed. "No incidents. No attempts to remove the collars or leave pack territory."
"We agreed to the terms," my mother responded. "We're following them."
"Good. I want to make sure you understand that this probation is an opportunity. Prove yourselves trustworthy and you can eventually regain full pack status."
"And if we don't want full pack status?" I asked before I could stop myself.
My mother shot me a warning look but Varian just studied me calmly.
"Then you serve out your year and leave. Those are your options. Reintegration or departure."
"What if we want to leave before the year is up?"
"Then you become rogues. Subject to pack law regarding wolves who abandon their obligations. I explained this already."
"Just wanted to make sure I understood correctly."
"You understand perfectly. You just don't like your options."
He dismissed us. Outside his office, my mother grabbed my arm.
"Stop antagonizing him. You're only making things harder."
"I was just asking questions."
"You were challenging him. There's a difference. We can't afford challenges right now. We keep our heads down and get through this year. That's all."
"I don't know if I can keep my head down for a year."
"You have to. Because the alternative is worse."
She was right but that didn't make it easier.
That evening, Shelly appeared at the servants' quarters. She'd never come down here before. Her presence immediately put me on guard.
"I wanted to check on how you're adjusting," she announced, though her tone suggested she didn't actually care.
"We're fine," my mother answered carefully.
"Good. Because I've been hearing some concerning things. Whispers that Thalia isn't properly respectful during work hours. That she questions orders."
"I do the work I'm told to do."
"But with attitude. With resistance in your eyes even when you comply physically." Shelly stepped closer. "That's not acceptable for someone on probation. You need to demonstrate complete submission, not grudging obedience."
"I'm following the terms of the probation."
"The letter of them, perhaps. But not the spirit. Varian wants to see genuine change. Evidence that you've learned your place."
"My place," I repeated flatly.
"Yes. Your place as a probationary member who disrespected her Alpha and is now earning back trust. That requires humility you clearly haven't developed yet."
After she left, I paced the small quarters trying to calm down.
"She's baiting you," my mother pointed out. "Trying to get you to react so she can report misbehavior to Varian."
"I know what she's doing."
"Then stop giving her ammunition. When she shows up, be respectful and quiet. Don't engage."
"I was respectful and quiet."
"You were controlled. That's different. She could see you were holding back anger. That's what she's reporting."
I sat down on my bed, defeated. "I don't know how to just accept this. How to pretend I'm fine with being collared and supervised and treated like a criminal."
"You don't have to be fine with it. You just have to survive it."
The third week brought a new challenge. We were assigned to serve at a formal pack dinner. All the senior members would be present including Varian and Shelly.
Sarah gave us specific instructions. "You serve from the left. You clear from the right. You don't speak unless spoken to. You keep your eyes down and move efficiently. Any mistakes reflect poorly on the entire kitchen staff."
"Understood," my mother confirmed.
The dinner was as uncomfortable as I'd anticipated. Standing along the wall waiting to serve. Watching pack members I used to sit among now being served by me. Feeling the weight of their stares and whispered comments.
Shelly made it worse by deliberately making requests. "Thalia, bring me more wine. Thalia, this plate is cold, replace it. Thalia, you missed a spot on the table."
Each request designed to emphasize my subservient position.
I complied with each one without reaction. Kept my face neutral. Did exactly what was asked.
But inside I was screaming.
After the dinner ended and we'd cleaned everything, Sarah pulled me aside.
"You did well tonight. I know it was hard."
"It was humiliating."
"Yes. But you got through it without incident. That's what matters."
"Does it get easier? Accepting this?"
Sarah was quiet for a moment. "No. But you get better at managing the feelings. At separating who you are from what you're required to do. That's the only way to survive situations like this."
That night I lay in bed unable to sleep. My mother was already breathing deeply beside me, exhausted from the long day.
I touched the collar again. Cold metal that marked me as untrustworthy. As someone who needed to be controlled and monitored.
Eleven months left. Forty-seven more weeks. Over three hundred days.
The timeline stretched ahead impossibly long.
I thought about Haven. About the brief time when I'd felt actually free. When independence seemed possible instead of just a fantasy I'd chased.
That life felt impossibly distant now. Like it had happened to someone else.
Maybe it had. Maybe the Thalia who'd stood up to Varian and refused to apologize was gone. Replaced by this version who served dinner and kept her head down and counted days until release.
I didn't know which was worse. Losing myself to compliance or fighting constantly and making everything harder.
Sarah's words echoed in my head. Separate yourself from the tasks. Survive without attaching emotion.
I didn't know if I could do that. Didn't know if I wanted to become someone who could.
But I was starting to understand I might not have a choice.
Because the alternative was breaking completely. And that would mean Varian had won in every way that mattered.
So I'd survive. Day by day. Task by task. Keeping some core part of myself separate and protected even while I did what was required.
It wasn't freedom. It wasn't even close.
But it was all I had.
And somehow, it would have to be enough to get me through the next eleven months.