“Elliana?”
Gideon’s voice cut through the air, laced with a mix of uncertainty and surprise. I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. Of course, he recognized me—how could he not? Even in this state, filthy and broken, he would know me. But the question lingered in his tone, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
I nodded silently, my eyes darting away, unable to meet his gaze. My wolf stirred within me, a faint whimper echoing in the back of my mind. She wanted me to stand tall, to show him I wasn’t weak, but I couldn’t. Not anymore.
“What happened to you?” Gideon’s voice sharpened, his frown deepening. There was no concern in his tone, only blame. “Don’t you have any shame?”
Shame. The word burned through me like fire. For the past ten years, that’s all he’s ever shown me—disappointment, disdain, and now, shame. But something inside me had shifted. I felt no sadness, no anger, not even the familiar sting of his words. Just emptiness.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. Sorry for appearing before him like this. Sorry for the filth that clung to my skin, the reek of the landfill still fresh on my clothes. Sorry for the bruises, the scabs, the scars that told a story I could never erase.
Gideon smirked, a cruel twist of his lips that made my stomach churn. “Looks like her method really worked. You’re much more compliant than before.”
I didn’t understand what he meant, but I knew I couldn’t stay here. I had to turn away, had to leave him behind. I no longer had to face him, no longer had to endure his disdain.
But Gideon wasn’t done with me. “Come back with me,” he said, his voice cold and commanding. “Stop pretending at school. It’s absurd.”
I ignored him, taking a shaky step forward. My legs trembled, threatening to give out at any moment, but I pressed on.
“I said come back with me!” Gideon’s voice rose, sharp and demanding. He reached out, grabbing my arm, but quickly let go, as if I were something repulsive. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his fingers with a look of disgust. “Elliana, you’re absolutely filthy!”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered again, my voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to dirty you. Please don’t hit me.”
Instinctively, I hugged my head and dropped to my knees, curling into a ball. The memory of hands pulling my hair, forcing my mouth open, flashed through my mind. My knees pressed into the ground, sending sharp pain through my battered body. They were covered in bruises and scabs, reminders of the days I’d spent kneeling, begging for scraps of mercy.
Gideon’s frown deepened, his voice hardening. “What are you doing? Stand up!”
I trembled, my hands pressing into the ground as I tried to rise. But I had no strength left, and I collapsed back onto the ground, my legs giving out beneath me.
Laughter echoed around me, sharp and mocking.
“Pathetic!” someone called out, their voice dripping with scorn.
Gideon reached out again, his hand hovering in mid-air, but he didn’t touch me. He couldn’t. I was too filthy, too broken, too far gone.
Yes, I really was filthy.
Using the last bit of my strength, I finally managed to stand. My legs shook uncontrollably, ready to collapse at any second. But I stood, refusing to let him see me fall again.
“Alright, come back with me,” Gideon said, his voice softer now, though still laced with irritation. “Where else can you go?”
Where else could I go? The question echoed in my mind, and I knew the answer. Nowhere. I had no choice but to follow him.
