Chapter 103: The fool.

July 17 2026, 12:05pm.

The sun was scorching and relentless, beating down on Berlin’s open back as she scrubbed the pale lilac rug for the fifty-seventh time today. Her fingers were red and sore and her thumb bled from an open cut, one she had gotten from scrubbing too hard because Lady Elara had forced her to do so.

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes as she continued to beat down on the thick woollen material. And due to her pouring tears, she could barely see a thing besides her nose covered in very tiny... almost unnoticeable blackheads.

Her body ached tremendously, protesting with every movement she made. Her nose bled, not from an injury... it bled almost all the time.

Suddenly, her vision began to grow weak and she swayed slightly. However, just as she was about to fall, firm hands suddenly circled her, holding her in place.

Her heart kicked wildly in her chest. Her body reacted almost instantly. She jerked away before she had enough time to process her actions but just as she moved, a burst of laughter broke out not so far from where she was crouched on the floor, jolting her to her jarring reality.

Her eyes shot up to find Charles, one of Tristans’s sleazy friends, looming above her. He was the one who had grabbed her and behind him, Elara and a group of girls stood chuckling into their hands.

Elara was still frail, she had been sick recently, but that illness was not enough to curb the devil raging inside of her. Her eyes shone with malicious glee as she pointed a manicured finger at her and snarled; "Are you still scrubbing that rug? Do you want to use the whole day to do just that?!"

Her tone carried a hint of mockery plus something so dark, it made Berlin’s stomach churn. Her fingers buried into her dress, squeezing tight and her head remained bowed as she took a subconscious step back.

All her life, she always avoided Elara even though she liked—loved— her sister, Nyx’ara, to a fault. The two girls were completely different entities, and now that she thought about it, she could not help but wonder how.

However, somewhere along the line, the feeling she had towards Elara had changed, morphing into fear especially after what she had witnessed that night at the rooftop.

She was there.

No one knows this, but she was there.

She had seen (more like overheard) what had happened while hiding in the shadows, buried deep between stashes of books. And for this reason, she could never bring herself to forgive Alpha Flynn, Elara, and Tristan for forcing her into testifying against Nyx’ara, hence branding her a two-timed criminal for two separate crimes she never committed.

"Cat got your tongue?!" Charles yelled so loudly that spittle fell from his lips on her face.

His voice jolted her out of her reverie and she instinctively stepped back, mostly because he stank. But Charles, thinking that she had moved because she was scared of him, beamed a smile at her that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He stepped forward, circling her with predatory strides and then stopped to hook his index finger underneath her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

He sneered; "Do you think that spending the entire day here would save you from cleaning the toilets and washing the dishes?"

"N-no!" She stuttered.

"Do you think we will let you go easily if you don’t do your entire chores? The ones allocated to you for the day?!"

"N-no!"

He raised his hand to strike her but before it would land, she squeezed her eyes shut and shrank into herself. She didn’t open her eyes until moments later when another mocking round of laughter burst through the air, wrapping around her like a fucking cashmere sweater.

She wrapped her arms around her body and lowered her head, her eyes brimming with hot tears as she shook her head.

"I’ll quickly finish now and move on to other things!" She rasped, her entire body shaking. "You don’t have to worry about me not getting my job done. I will do it. I always do."

Elara frowned. She hated everything about the girl, from her guts to how smooth her face was. She knew she was filthy poor, making skincare unaffordable and inaccessible to someone like her, but for some reason, her skin still looked good.

Very good.

She turned to Savannah and sneered; "Slap her, my hands hurt."

Savannah asked no questions. If anything, she seemed thrilled as she walked up to Berlin and slapped her so hard, the latter’s head lolled to the side with a crack. A spot on her cheek cracked open and thick blood oozed out, pouring down her cheek and the corner of her lips.

Elara turned to the next girl, a brunette, Eliora, and barked; "You too. Slap her!"

But Elioara was a bit hesitant. She knew what it meant to be bullied and in fact, had been bullied into becoming friends with Elara in the first place. She walked over slowly, her limbs shaking as she lifted her hand and—

"If you dare do it, I’ll make sure your head rolls!" A deep dark voice suddenly bellowed, snapping through the air and forcing Eliora’s hands to drop to her sides. ℴ

She spun around quickly to see a strikingly handsome man walking over with the strides of a predator. He was tall, standing over six feet with broad shoulders and an even broader chest. His face was chiseled and well-toned, making him appear like a Greek god, but his eyes, deep blue and fierce were only on one thing— Berlin.

Her heart jumped in her chest, and in that moment, Eliora knew that she had fallen in love.

Or lust.

Or whatever.

She was snapped out of that bubble when someone shoved her to the side, causing her to stumble and fall against Elara. Elara, who had not expected that to happen, stumbled and fell to the floor, taking both Eliora and Savannah with her.

Their shrieks filled the air as they fell but Rowan did not stop to look. He didn’t even care.

His eyes fell on Berlin and held, and then they slowly shifted to the cracked skin on her cheek and the small stream of blood pouring out. He could not, in that moment, stop himself from tracing his eyes over her body... from her drab dress to her shoddy hair... then down to her raw and bleeding fingers.

His chest tightened.

"You have been summoned." He said to her, his voice emotionless, "...and you were asked to come with me immediately."

It wasn’t until then that Elara helped herself to her feet. She slapped her hand over her dress to brush off the dust and dirt particles. She then puffed out her chest and snarled; "Young man, I do not know who you are, but I am the waiting Luna of this pack and I have every right to stop her from going with—"

"Yes, that is what you are, a Luna in waiting, and for that reason, you have no right to stop me from taking Ms Berlin along with me and no right to obstruct the instructions of an already established Luna..."

"I... I don’t understand. What do you mean?" She blinked, her face colouring a bright shade of red. "Who is the already established Luna who seeks Berlin’s presence?"

Rowan tilted his head to the side and smiled— more like smirked. "Luna Nyx’ara Stormborn, wife of the Sovereign Alphas. I am sure you are well acquainted with her."

Embarrassment and anger surged high within Elara’s chest. Her face burned bright but her chest burned the hottest. Enraged, she opened her mouth but before the words could come out, Rowan had picked up Berlin in bridal style and was already walking away.

He did not acknowledge her. He didn’t even act as if she existed... and goddess, no one’s ever treated her like that before.

It made her mad.

He had completely walked away before some of her anger cleared enough for common sense to come in, and then she realized that Berlin had just been taken away by someone from Stormborn pack.

They were delivering her straight to Nyx’ara.

—Meaning that the leverage she— they— had over Nyx’ara was gone.

"Who the fuck gave him the permission to take her away?!" She barked, only for a scrunchy shabby bodyguard who had appeared out of nowhere to bow his head and respond.

He said; "Alpha Flynn did! He permitted him,"

Elara paused, rolled her eyes, and sneered. The fool!