Once Torture Her, Twice Fear Her

Accused of killing her parents, Celestine's life took a devastating turn. Despite her fervent denials, no one believed her. Convinced of her guilt, they punished her for crimes she did not commit. Her own younger brother condemned her, reduced her to the lowest rank in the pack, and made her a slave. Her existence became a waking nightmare. Now twenty-two, she felt trapped in a relentless cycle of misery, with every glimmer of hope seemingly extinguished.

But one pack gathering changed everything. When Celestine met the ruthless and cold-blooded Alpha Gideon Ironhart, her fate took an unexpected twist. It wasn't in Gideon's plan to take her in exchange for an alliance, but something about the dynamic between the siblings intrigued him. An Alpha and a maid—there was more to their story than meets the eye.

Little did Alpha Gideon know, this encounter would force him to confront his own painful past, mirroring the torment he had tried so hard to forget.

***

Celestine's POV

Cooking had always been my favorite hobby. There was something deeply comforting about the process-measuring, mixing, and creating something with my own hands that would bring joy to those I loved. At seventeen, I felt a surge of pride as I prepared a special meal for my family.

It was a chilly evening at the Ironclaw Pack. I had just finished cooking a rich, savory pasta, my mother's favorite. My heart raced with anticipation as I heard the sound of the front door creaking open. My father, Alpha Sebastian, and my mother, Luna Cyra, had just returned home. I could barely contain my excitement.

"Mom, Dad!" I called out, setting the pasta on the dining table. "I made dinner for us. Please, try it!"

They exchanged warm smiles and took their seats at the table. My father, always so dignified, picked up his fork with a nod of approval. My mother's eyes sparkled with affection as she took her first bite. I watched them with bated breath, eager for their praise.

"This is wonderful, Celestine," my mother said.

Then, my father added, "It's perfect."

I turned to my brother, Soren, who had been watching from a distance. "Soren, try some. I'd love to know what you think."

He shrugged and shook his head. "I'm not really into pasta. I'll pass." As expected, he treated me coldly, yet again.

A twinge of disappointment flickered through me, but I brushed it aside. "Okay, if you say so."

Just as I was about to join my parents at the table, I noticed a change in their expressions. They began to convulse violently, their faces contorted in pain. Blood began to seep from their eyes, ears, and mouth. My heart stopped as I watched in horror.

"Mom! Dad!" I screamed, rushing to their sides. The room was filled with chaos and my own frantic cries. "W-What's happening? Why?"

Their entire bodies arched and twisted unnaturally as if some invisible force was trying to tear them apart from within. My father's chair was upended as he writhed, his face contorted into a grotesque mask of suffering. My mother clutched at her throat, her hands clawing at the air in a desperate, futile attempt to stop the onslaught of pain.

Soren's voice cut through the confusion, sharp and accusing. "What did you do? Was it the pasta? Did you poison them?"

I shook my head desperately, tears streaming down my face. "No! No! It wasn't me! I didn't do anything! Please, believe me!"

The sound of their gasps and choked cries filled the room, mingling with my own frantic sobs. Their bodies slumped, their convulsions fading into an eerie stillness...

--

Suddenly, I jolted awake, gasping for breath as cold water drenched my face. The nightmare had come again, vivid and cruel, leaving me drenched and shivering. I rubbed my eyes, trying to make sense of my surroundings. The familiar, damp scent of the basement where I now slept clung to me. The harsh reality of my new life was a contrast to the warmth I once knew.

Another splash of cold water hit me, accompanied by a sharp, irritable voice. "Why are you still standing there? Are you still not awake?"

I blinked up at the maid, her expression a mix of irritation and indifference. She was one of many who now treated me with disdain, a harsh reminder of my fallen status. I had gone from being a cherished daughter of the Ironclaw Pack to nothing more than a slave, my former life stripped away after that fateful day.

My heart ached as I thought about the drastic change. The warmth and love of my past had been replaced by cold, unfeeling hands. I used to be a princess in my family's eyes, but now, I was a mere shadow of that person. My nights were plagued by nightmares, and my days were filled with the relentless drudgery of my new existence.

I forced myself to stand, my movements sluggish and weary. The maid watched me with a critical eye, her patience clearly wearing thin.

As I worked, my mind wandered back to that night, to the terrible accusations and the bewildering death of my parents. Was it truly my fault? Had I somehow poisoned them? The guilt gnawed at me, a constant, unrelenting presence that I could never escape.

But no... I know I didn't.