Fake Heiress True Luna (Irina) novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Paying Back

Irina’s POV

The voice was like a whip crack in the silent darkness, cold and laced with contempt. It sliced through my despair, freezing the tears on my cheeks. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know

who it was.

I would have recognized that voice anywhere.

I didn’t want him to see me like this-all bruised and broken. I wanted to have one day to at least get ready for his rejection. I’m not sure what I did in a past life, but in this one, I’m paying for all my past sins.

I kept my eyes closed for a second longer, desperately trying to school my features into something neutral, something empty. I would not let him see my pain. I would not let him see my tears. He had already taken enough.

Slowly, I opened my eyes.

Aiden Keaton stood a few feet away, silhouetted against the distant lights of the mansion. He was a tower of shadow and imposing strength, his arms crossed over his chest. The moonlight caught the sharp angles of his face, highlighting the unforgiving line of his jaw and the frost in his grey eyes. He looked down at me as if I were a stray dog that had dared to soil his pristine lawn.

This is it, I thought, my heart hammering against my bruised ribs. He’s going to do it. He’s going to reject me right here.

At least this time it wouldn’t be public, like it happened with Lancer.

Theia let out a silent keen of agony, bracing for the blow. I braced with her. I locked every muscle, forced my breathing to remain even, and met his gaze. There was no defiance in my look, only a weary, hollow acceptance. I would take my second rejection with whatever dignity I had left, which wasn’t much.

I waited for the words. The formal, brutal severing of a bond I never asked for. I, Aiden Keaton, Alpha of Shadow Pack, reject you, Irina Johnson, Omega of Blue Lake Pack, as my mate and

Luna.

The silence stretched. The night air grew colder. He just stood there, studying me, his expression unreadable. His eyes did a slow, meticulous sweep of me, from my tangled hair to my torn and dirty uniform to how I was curled protectively against the tree trunk, trying to make myself small.

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His gaze lingered on the tear tracks I knew were still visible on my cheeks. I saw his jaw tighten almost imperceptibly.

But he didn’t speak. The rejection didn’t come.

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Instead, his nostrils flared slightly, as if scenting the air. His eyes narrowed, and the ice in them seemed to sharpen, focusing on me with a new, terrifying intensity. Could he smell the blood? The fear? The lingering scent of the she-wolves who had attacked me?

kept wondering what he was going to do. I hadn’t bowed to him and didn’t follow protocol because I thought the blow would arrive any time. I still can’t recognize him as my mate, most likely because Theia is still healing from our previous rejection.

I would still accept it, even if it killed me. I didn’t want to be bonded to someone who didn’t

want me.

At least if I died, I would be reborn.

Aiden’s own expression remained a mask of cold disdain, but a muscle in his cheek twitched. He was fighting his wolf. Hard.

That was the worst part, when a wolf wants you, but their humans don’t.

Should I say something? Should I reject him first?

Finally, he spoke, but the words were not the ones I expected.

“Get up,” he commanded, his voice a low growl that vibrated through the ground beneath me. “You’re trespassing. Omegas do not loiter at the edge of the Alpha’s woods without permission.”

It wasn’t a rejection. It was an order. A petty, cruel dismissal that deliberately ignored the obvious-that I was hurt, that I was clearly in distress.

A strange, hysterical laugh bubbled in my throat, but I choked it down. He wasn’t going to reject me. Not yet. The realization was somehow more terrifying. It meant this torture wasn’t over. It meant he had something else in mind.

Summoning every ounce of strength I had left, I pushed myself to my feet. The world swam for a moment, and I had to press a hand against the rough bark of the tree to steady myself. I kept my eyes down, avoiding his gaze.

“My apologies, Alpha,” I murmured, my voice barely a whisper. “I was just taking a moment. I will return to my quarters.”

I made to move past him, my body screaming with every step, but his voice stopped me.

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“Look at me.”

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The command was absolute, brooking no argument. I lifted my head slowly and painfully and met his stormy grey eyes.

He searched my face for a long, agonizing moment, his gaze like a physical weight. He was looking for something-weakness, defiance, a crack in my armor. I gave him nothing. I let my eyes go blank, the way I’d learned to do under Julie’s torment.

I should be thankful that I still can’t feel the bond, because once I do, I’m sure this will be harder.

I once heard my father say that indifference was worse than hatred, and I would give that to every single one of them.

I stayed in the pack and swallowed my pride because I felt I owed them. I need to get a pen and some paper. Once I do, I’ll count everything I do until my debt is paid. After that, I’ll be free.

“See that you do,” he said finally, his tone dismissive. “And don’t let me find you out here again.”

He turned and walked away without another word, his broad back disappearing into the shadows toward the mansion.

I stood there, trembling, until he was gone. Then, my legs gave out, and I sank back against the tree, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

I hate Alphas, I hate my pack, but I’m still indebted to them.

The cold from the tree bark seeped through the thin fabric of my uniform, a dull echo of the

ice in Aiden’s voice.

He didn’t want me, but it was clear he wouldn’t let go of me that easily, just like the people on Blue Moon Pack.

I owed them for the clothes, the food, the education. For eighteen years of a life that was never mine. I would pay back every thread, every bite, every lesson. I would work until the debt was settled, until the scales were balanced. And then… then I would be free. The thought was a tiny, fragile ember in the vast darkness of my despair. It was the only thing I had to

hold onto.

Pushing myself upright again, I wrapped my arms around my aching middle and began the slow, painful trek back to the staff quarters. Every step was a reminder of my place. Omega. Maid. Indebted. The words were a mantra of survival.

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The main hall was mostly empty, save for a few warriors on late-night patrol who glanced at me with blank indifference before looking away. I was part of the scenery now. Invisible.

I finally reached the small, stark building and slipped inside, the door closing with a soft click that sounded like a prison cell locking. The hallway was silent. As I passed the mess hall, I saw the lights were off, the doors closed. Dinner was long over. My stomach clenched painfully, a hollow ache joining the symphony of bruises.

It didn’t matter. Hunger was a familiar companion now.

I reached my door and pushed it open, stepping into the tiny, dark room. I fumbled for the small lamp on the rickety chair, the weak bulb casting a dim, yellowish light that did nothing to warm the space.

And then I froze.

Sitting on the edge of my narrow cot was a small, covered basket. It hadn’t been there before.

My first paranoid thought was of Julie. Was this another trick? A trap? Had she left some poisoned offering for me to find?

Cautiously, I approached. There was no note. I lifted the cloth cover.

The scent hit me first-rich, savory, and warm. Inside, nestled in a clean cloth, was a small loaf of dark bread, a wedge of cheese, a handful of dried apples, and a strip of smoked meat -simple, hearty food-the kind the warriors ate. Next to it sat a small jar of a pungent herbal

salve, the kind used for healing bruises and muscle aches.

My throat tightened. At least there was someone good in this place.

Cindy, I thought suddenly. The maid with the kind eyes. She must have seen me being summoned, guessed I would miss dinner, and taken pity on me. The salve was probably from her own supplies.

A wave of emotion-so foreign and overwhelming after weeks of numbness-threatened to choke me. It was a simple act of kindness, but in this cold, hostile place, it felt like a lifeline. It was a reminder that not everyone in this world saw me as a fraud or a slave-that someone, however briefly, had seen a person in need.

I sank onto the cot, the food basket in my lap. I ate slowly, each bite a deliberate act of gratitude. The bread was slightly stale, the cheese sharp, but it was the most nourishing thing I’d tasted in days. The simple meal felt like a feast.

When I was done, I uncorked the jar of salve. The sharp, medicinal smell filled the small room. I dipped my fingers in and gently rubbed the cooling balm into the bruises on my arms,

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ribs, and stomach. The pain began to recede almost immediately, replaced by a soothing numbness.

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As I tended to my wounds, the ember of an idea, fanned by this unexpected kindness, glowed a little brighter. I needed a plan. A goal. Aiden wasn’t going to reject me yet. Julie would continue her torments. I couldn’t just survive. I had to fight back.

I needed a pen. I needed paper. I’m sure Cindy will help me with that.

I finished applying the salve and put the jar away. I placed the empty basket neatly by the door to return to Lila in the morning. Then I lay down on the thin mattress, pulling the scratchy blanket over me.

For the first time since I’d arrived at Shadow Pack, I didn’t feel entirely alone. And for the first time, I had a purpose beyond mere endurance.

I would count every single thing until my debt was paid.

And then I would be free.

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