Chapter 8 I’m Not Your Toy
Isabella’s POV
I woke to the sound of the metal door unlocking.
My body tensed before my mind was fully awake. Life in the Redmoon Palace had already trained me to react first, think later.
The guard didn’t speak. He only jerked his chin, ordering me to follow.
I walked through the empty corridors, still smelling the disinfectant I’d used last night. My arms ached from hours of scrubbing. My knees too.
It was so obvious Leon liked assigning work that forced me to the ground. It wasn’t an accident.
When the guards finally pushed me into his private chamber, the Lycan King stood with his back to me, shirtless, scars running across his shoulders.
He didn’t look at me when he spoke.
“You’re late.”
I swallowed. “The guards opened the door late.”
He turned then. Slowly. His golden eyes locked onto mine, and it felt like the air left the room.
“Excuses,” he said.
Every word from him felt like a test. I didn’t know which answers kept me alive.
“I’m here now,” I said simply.
He stepped toward me. I forced myself not to step back. Showing fear only fed him.
Leon circled me once, silent, like he was deciding whether to snap my neck or give me another chore. His presence was overwhelming, like heat rolling off fire.
“You still haven’t broken,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “Most would have begged by now.”
“I’m not most.”
He stopped in front of me.
His thumb lifted my chin, forcing my gaze up.
“No,” he murmured, “you’re not.”
My heart thudded too loudly. I hated that he could hear it, smell it, taste every emotion running through me.
“Today,” he said, dropping his hand, “you’ll clean the training hall. Alone.”
I kept my face blank, but inside, fear stabbed me. The training hall was where the warriors—his monsters—spent their days. The floor was stained with old blood. And the men there?
They would look at me like I was a breakable toy.
Leon watched my reaction carefully.
“Scared?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said honestly.
It surprised him. His brow twitched.
“I’m not here to lie to you,” I added. “But I’ll do the work.”
He stepped even closer. I felt his breath warm on my cheek.
“You obey well, little maid.”
“I’m not your little anything,” I whispered.
His eyes darkened—not in anger, but in something worse. Interest.
“You will be,” he said softly. “One way or another.”
My stomach twisted. I needed to stay calm. I needed to survive. I needed to remember my son’s face. My parents’ final screams. The ruins of Evergreen.
I lived for revenge. Not fear.
Leon walked to the door and opened it slightly, signaling the guards.
Before I left, he spoke again.
“Isabella.”
My whole body went cold.
He rarely said my name. It felt too intimate on his tongue.
I turned back slowly.
His gaze held mine, steady and unreadable.
“I don’t break my toys quickly,” he said. “I enjoy watching them fight first.”
I clenched my fists. “I’m not a toy.”
He smiled. A slow, dangerous smile that made the hair on my arms rise.
“Good,” he whispered. “Fight harder.”
The door shut behind me before I could breathe.
The training hall was worse than I expected.
I tried to ignore the warriors’ stares as I swept the floor, but their whispers echoed.
“That’s the King’s new favorite.”
“She won’t last a week.”
“Look at her knees. He’s making her crawl already.”
I kept my head down and cleaned.
Every muscle in my body burned.
Every insult was another reminder to endure.
For my family.
For my... son.
The mocking turned to silence when heavy footsteps entered the hall.
I didn’t need to look up.
Leon.
He watched me from the doorway, his presence instantly quieting the room. The warriors straightened, tense and alert.
I froze, broom in hand. Sweat clung to my neck. My heart hammered again—too loud for him not to notice.
He walked toward me, slow and deliberate.
“Stand.”
I did.
He studied me, his gaze sweeping over the dirt on my skirt, the bruises on my arms, the exhaustion written across my face.
“Why didn’t you stop?” he asked.
“I wasn’t done.”
“You could barely breathe.”
“I’m still standing.”
Something flickered in his eyes. Not pity.
Something more dangerous.
He reached out and wiped dirt from my cheek with his thumb. I stiffened.
“You fight in every breath,” he said quietly. “Even when you serve.”
“I’m not serving,” I whispered. “I’m surviving.”
“Same thing.”
“No,” I said, meeting his gaze, “it’s not.”
His lips tilted. “You talk back more and more.”
“Maybe I stopped being scared.”
“Lies,” he said, stepping closer. “I can feel your fear.”
I swallowed. He was right. Fear was the one scent I couldn’t hide.
But I wasn’t afraid of him killing me.
I was afraid of him seeing me.
“Get cleaned up,” he said finally. “I have another task for you tonight.”
Another task? Tonight?
It was nother trap!
I bowed my head because it was safer.
“Yes, my King.”
He paused, then leaned close, his voice a whisper only I could hear.
“I don’t know what you’re hiding,” he said. “But I’ll find it. Every piece.”
My blood went cold.
Then he walked away… leaving every warrior watching me like they knew something was coming.
Something worse.
Something inevitable.