Clara.
I spent the morning on my hands and knees, scrubbing the floor of the Great Hall. It was mindless work, which was a blessing. It gave me time to try and process the impossible. A goddess in my head. Instant healing. Super hearing that I was slowly learning to tune out, like background noise.
*You know, if you asked me nicely, I could probably make that floor clean itself. Think of the time we’d save. We could use it for brooding. Or plotting. I’m a big fan of plotting.*
“And how would I explain that?” I thought back, my lips pressed into a thin line as I worked the brush over a stubborn stain.
*You wouldn’t. You’d just walk away like a boss. We really need to work on your dramatic flair.*
“Just let me work. The less attention I draw, the better.”
*Boring. But fine.*
Two of Boran’s senior warriors, Garrick and Fen, were standing near the hearth, arguing in low voices. With my new hearing, I could pick up every word.
“He’s getting worse,” Garrick muttered. “The paranoia. He thinks everyone is plotting against him.”
“He’s not wrong,” Fen replied, his voice a low growl. “If he keeps this up, someone will challenge him. And they’ll have my support.”
“Careful. He hears everything.”
My blood ran cold. If they knew about my hearing, they’d think I was a spy. I scrubbed harder, trying to look completely absorbed in my task.
Fen gestured angrily, his hand knocking against a small wooden pedestal near the wall. On it sat a delicate, ornate vase, decorated with silver filigree. It was said to have belonged to Boran’s mother.
It wobbled.
“Watch it, you clumsy ox!” Garrick hissed.
The vase tipped over the edge. It hung in the air for a fraction of a second, a perfect, horrifying prelude to disaster.
My heart stopped. Boran would kill me. He would say I left my bucket too close. He’d say I distracted them. He would find a reason, and he would drag me back to the cellar and this time, he would finish the job.
“No,” I breathed, a desperate plea to the universe. “Stop.”
And everything did.
The vase froze, suspended an inch from the stone floor. Garrick’s mouth was open in a silent shout. Fen’s arm was still outstretched. A dust mote dancing in a sunbeam stopped its lazy drift. The crackle of the fire went silent.
My mind reeled. I could think. I could move. But the world was a statue.
*Well now. That’s a new trick.*
Selene’s voice sounded… surprised. Genuinely surprised.
“What is this?” I thought, my panic reaching a fever pitch.
*It seems you have more control than I anticipated. You wanted it to stop, and it stopped. You bent time, little one. Just for a moment.*
I stared at the frozen scene. My mind couldn’t comprehend it.
*Quickly now. Fix it. You can’t hold this forever.*
My body moved on instinct. I scrambled forward, my knees scraping on the stone. My hands were trembling as I reached out and caught the vase. It felt solid, real, in a world that had become a photograph.
I carefully placed it back on the pedestal, nudging it to the center.
“Okay,” I whispered. “Okay, it’s fixed. Let it go.”
*That’s not how it works. You have to… release it. Let the river flow again.*
I didn’t know what that meant. I just closed my good eye, focused on the memory of the world in motion, and wished for it to be normal again.
The sound crashed back in. The fire crackled. Fen and Garrick blinked.
“I almost knocked it over,” Fen said, pulling his hand back as if burned. “Gods, Boran would have had my hide.”
“You got lucky,” Garrick grunted, glancing at the vase, which was now perfectly safe. “It must have just wobbled.”
They moved on, their argument forgotten. They didn’t even look at me.
But I was not okay. The moment time restarted, a wave of exhaustion hit me so hard my vision went black at the edges. A profound, bone deep weariness that felt like I hadn’t slept in a year. The strength fled my limbs, and I collapsed back onto my heels, gasping.
My head spun violently. I felt nauseous. I had to get out of sight.
I grabbed my bucket and stumbled out of the Great Hall, finding refuge in a small, dusty alcove where cleaning supplies were stored. I leaned my head against the cool stone wall, my body trembling.
“What was that?” I asked Selene, my thoughts sluggish.
*That was power, little one. Real power. It takes a toll. You’re a battery, remember? You just used a massive amount of juice to perform a tiny miracle.*
“It felt like it was killing me.”
*It almost did. You’re not ready for that kind of expenditure. It’s like trying to run a lightning storm off a candle flame. You’re lucky you didn’t just pass out.*
“I never want to do that again.”
*You will. When you need to. But for now, yes, let’s stick to instant healing and eavesdropping. The temporal manipulation can wait until you’ve had a decent meal and a bit more practice.*
I took a few deep breaths, forcing the world to stop spinning. The exhaustion was still there, a heavy cloak on my shoulders, but the nausea was fading. I had to get back to work before I was missed.
I pushed myself off the wall, my legs unsteady, and walked back toward the kitchens. As I rounded a corner, I almost ran directly into a solid wall of muscle.
Alpha Boran.
I froze, my head immediately bowing. “Alpha,” I mumbled, my voice barely a whisper.
He didn’t move. He just stood there, blocking my path. Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy with menace.
“Look at me,” he commanded. His voice was low, but it held the sharp crack of a whip.
Slowly, fearfully, I lifted my head. I focused on his chin, unable to meet his eyes.
His fingers suddenly clamped under my jaw, forcing my head up. His touch was rough, possessive. I flinched, but he held me fast. His gaze wasn’t just cruel this time. It was different. It was appraising, searching. And beneath the contempt, there was a flicker of something else. A dark, ugly hunger that made my skin crawl.
“There is something different about you,” he said, his thumb brushing over my cheek. It felt like being touched by a snake.
“I… I don’t know what you mean, Alpha.”
*Tell him to get his filthy hands off you before you break his wrist.*
The goddess’s fury was a hot spike in my mind, but I couldn’t act on it. I was frozen by years of ingrained terror.
“Don’t lie to me,” he growled. “I beat you to within an inch of your life. I felt your bones break. I left you bleeding out on the cellar floor. Yet here you are, scrubbing my floors without so much as a limp.”
“The Goddess was merciful,” I whispered. It was the only excuse an Omega could offer.
He laughed, a short, humorless sound. “The Goddess doesn’t waste her time on runts like you.” His eyes narrowed, focusing on my eyepatch. “And that. What are you hiding?”
“I fell, Alpha,” I lied, my heart hammering. “My eye is swollen shut. It’s ugly.”
“Is it?” he mused. He leaned closer, his scent, pine and stale rage, overwhelming me. “Perhaps I should be the judge of that.”
His other hand came up, reaching for the leather strap.
*Don’t let him, Clara. Not him. Not ever.*
For the first time, I found a spark of defiance. I twisted my head away, breaking his grip on my chin. “Please, Alpha. Don’t.”
The surprise on his face was immediate. He was not used to being denied anything, especially by me. His eyes darkened, the flicker of lust replaced by the familiar storm of his anger.
But then, a slow, cruel smile spread across his lips. It was more terrifying than the anger.
“So, the little mouse has grown claws,” he purred. “Interesting.”
He didn’t try to touch the patch again. He just looked at me, a long, lingering look that stripped me bare. He was no longer looking at a nuisance to be kicked. He was looking at a puzzle to be solved. A toy to be broken in new and fascinating ways.
“Get out of my sight,” he said finally, stepping aside.
I didn’t need to be told twice. I practically ran down the corridor, not stopping until I was safely in the chaos of the kitchens.
My back was pressed against the door, my entire body shaking. I was more scared now than I had been in the cellar.
“He knows,” I sent the thought to Selene, my mind screaming. “He suspects something. That look in his eyes…”
*I saw it. Disgusting pig. He’s noticed you’re not a broken little bird anymore.*
“This is worse. This is so much worse.”
*Only for now. Stop worrying about him. He is a dying ember, Clara. He just doesn’t know it yet.*
Her voice was calm, a steady rock in my sea of terror.
*He is your past. But your future is coming. I can feel it. A storm is gathering on the horizon, and it is heading right for this pathetic little packhouse.*
I slid down the door to sit on the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees.
*And you, little one, are standing right in the center of it.*
