Chapter 30 Another Trial
Meira’s POV
I was stunned.
I hadn’t expected that—not the sharp crack, not the sudden burn that bloomed across my cheek like fire licking skin. For a few seconds after she removed her hand, I stood there frozen, my body refusing to catch up with what had just happened. The sting lingered, pulsing, a cruel reminder that I was very much awake and very much humiliated.
She looked at me with pure rage in her eyes, the kind that didn’t come from misunderstanding but from long-nurtured resentment.
“Who do you think you are?” she yelled, her voice slicing through the room like a blade. It sounded as though I had committed some unforgivable crime, as though my very existence was an insult.
I opened my mouth, confusion swirling inside me, about to ask what I had done—what I had done wrong this time—but she shut me down almost immediately.
“You think you can fool me by acting calm?” she continued, stepping closer. “I know how rebellious you are. Everyone here knows you. How you killed your aunt's husband without a second thought—everyone knows what kind of creature you are.”
Whispers rippled through the room.
Some people gasped. Others leaned closer, hungry for spectacle. I stood there like I was facing trial, my heart pounding wildly against my ribs. My face felt pale, my hands cold, my legs weak. I could almost hear the verdict forming in their minds before I was even allowed to speak.
“Your aunt was so kind to you,” she went on, her voice dripping with so much disappointment, “and that was how you repay her? That was what you did behind her back? I’m not going to be lenient with you as she was.”
I swallowed hard, my throat tight.
I looked around without lifting my head too much. Jacinthe stood nearby, her expression calm—too calm. Her face was unreadable, it was calm like she purposely was hiding emotions, but she didn't look pleased as well.
Then I turned slightly and saw Emily.
Of course.
Emily and her minions stood together, barely hiding their excitement. Their lips curved into smug smiles, their shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. One of them even covered her mouth, pretending to be shocked while her eyes sparkled with delight. Emily herself wasn’t even trying to hide it. She was enjoying every second of this.
“Get away from here,” Lady Rose snapped suddenly, pointing toward the exit. “And go clean the garden. Every inch of it.”
My breath hitched.
I stared at her, shock rooting me to the spot. For a moment, I was almost afraid to speak, afraid that if I did, things would somehow get worse.
“I… I already cleaned the g-garden,” I said softly.
As the words left my mouth, my peripheral vision caught Emily’s face. The way her lips curled told me everything. She knew. She had known all along. This was planned.
Lady Rose’s anger flared instantly.
“Are you calling me a liar?” she demanded. “Or do you think I’m just trying to create drama?”
“No,” I said quickly, panic creeping into my voice. “I’m just surprised because I cleaned every corner. I really did.”
“So what happened then?” she snapped.
I looked around, refusing to let the tears gather in my eyes. I wouldn’t give Emily or her minions the satisfaction of seeing me cry—not here, not now. My silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable.
“I’m asking you a question, cursed girl,” Lady Rose barked. “What happened?”
The words cursed girl hit harder than the slap.
I bowed my head, my chest aching. “I don’t know,” I whispered. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll go clean it now.”
I tried—gods, I really tried—to keep my voice steady, but it faltered anyway. It betrayed me, trembling despite my efforts. Shame washed over me, familiar and suffocating, dragging me back into memories of a life I had always known since I was little.
Of course no one believed me.
Who would?
Who would ever choose the word of a cursed hybrid over that of “normal” wolves?
I turned and left before anyone could say anything else, before my resolve shattered completely. I went to get my equipment, my movements mechanical, my mind numb. When I reached the garden, my heart sank.
Everything I had cleaned—every path, every bed, every carefully arranged plant—had been ruined. Footprints crisscrossed the soil. Flowers were crushed. Dirt had been deliberately scattered, like someone had gone out of their way to destroy my work.
I didn’t need proof.
I was certain this was Emily and her crew.
Without a word, I sprang into action. I cleaned relentlessly, pushing my aching body past exhaustion. I raked, swept, and gathered dirt with trembling hands. Sweat dripped down my temples, my muscles screaming in protest, but I didn’t stop.
From inside the mansion, faint sounds drifted out.
Poised, fake laughter.
The clinking of glasses.
The scent of overly strong fragrance carried by the breeze, sweet and suffocating. Somewhere, warm instrumental music played—cool, calm, elegant. Everything I wasn’t.
I paused for a moment, leaning on the rake, my chest rising and falling rapidly. I wished I was inside. Just once. Just to be among them. Just to feel normal—to feel like I belonged somewhere.
My hands shook as I finally lowered myself onto a nearby bench, exhaustion claiming me. The rake slipped from my grip, clattering softly against the stone path.
That was when I heard it.
A deep voice behind me.
Calm. Familiar.
“Guess we meet again.”
My heart skipped, and I slowly turned, dread and curiosity tangling together in my chest.