Mated to the Alpha: Sold to the King novel Chapter 4

Chapter 4: 0004

Lorelei POV

It wasn’t always like this.

I mean, I was the cursed daughter from birth, but it was never this bad.

My father always hated me. He believed in the prophecy more than anyone, especially since his own mother died the day I was born. To him, that was proof enough.

But my mother still had the smallest soft spot for me. After carrying a child for nine months, it isn’t easy to turn that kind of connection into pure hatred.

Callista was always treated better, even when we were little. Nicer dresses. Sweeter words. Softer touches. But I was still treated like a daughter back then. I had private tutors. I ate well. I slept in a proper bed. I wasn’t even a maid.

Everything changed when we were eight.

A boy Callista liked had written me a love letter.

I never even answered it. I barely understood what it meant. But she found out.

We fought. Screamed at each other. And in the middle of it, I pushed her.

It was an accident. I didn’t even push that hard. But she fell, hit her head against the edge of a stone bench, and went unconscious for two days.

For two days, I wasn’t allowed to leave my room. For two days, I heard whispers through the walls about how the shadow had tried to kill the light.

When she woke up, everything shifted.

I was scolded more. Watched more. Touched less.

And Callista realized something.

She realized she was untouchable.

The moment she understood she could twist the story and everyone would believe her, she started doing it on purpose. Hurting herself just enough. Crying at the perfect moment. Trembling when she pointed at me.

It started small.

A ribbon she claimed I stole, which she had actually buried in the garden herself.

Then one day, she sliced her own wrist with a shard of glass while our parents were in the next room, only to stumble out sobbing and accuse me.

The punishments grew worse each time.

By ten, my tutors were dismissed.

By twelve, I was moved into the servant’s quarters "for my own safety," according to my mother. Though everyone knew it was to keep my supposed curse from contaminating Callista’s perfect light.

By fourteen, I was scrubbing the same marble floors I used to run across as a child.

And now, here I am.

Curled in the corner of a pack cell.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trembling as cold air seeped into my exposed skin.

I had been locked in here for five days now, surviving on one meal a day, if you could even call it that. A stale hunk of bread and a cup of water.

With my wolf suppressed, it took longer for my wounds to heal. Which meant I was still severely bruised, cuts still oozing, my back crisscrossed with half-scabbed lash marks that pulled and burned every time I moved.

The ropes had left raw burns around my wrists and ankles. My lip was split and swollen from Harlan’s fist.

Every breath hurt. Every shift on the damp stone floor sent pain shooting up my spine.

The night before I was supposed to be released, I heard approaching footsteps. The door slid open, and this time it wasn’t a tray.

It was Jaxen, standing before me with an unreadable expression.

"Leave us," he ordered the guard, who bowed and stepped out.

The second we were alone, I forced myself to my feet.

"Jaxen," I breathed, stepping forward, already lifting my arms, ready to fall into him, but he took a step back.

My heart broke all over again.

Hurt flashed across my face so fast I couldn’t hide it. My arms dropped like dead weight, and the air between us thickened.

He didn’t speak right away. He just stared, those blue eyes raking over me before he finally looked away.

"Why did you do it?" he asked quietly, and my chest tightened.

"I told you I would get you out of this life," he continued, clenching his jaw. "We had one month left. One month. Why couldn’t you wait? Why did you betray me?"

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